Below the Belt(46)

“Die.”

The word came out like gravel run through a coffee grinder. He couldn’t help but laugh. “Sorry, no can do. I’m pretty sure even your stellar training skills can’t bring a guy back from the dead. Just chat with me a bit.”

Eyes still glued shut, she slapped at his hands, which were pulling the sheet away. “Die,” she said more firmly. “It’s not even light out, and it’s our day off. What the hell is the matter with you?”

“How can you tell it’s not light out when you won’t open your eyes?”

“There’s no light bleeding through my eyelids. I need more sleep.”

Smoothing down one side of her messy hair, he dodged another elbow. “We can talk and go right back to bed.”

“How about we skip the talk and you take a long walk off a short bridge?” She kicked at him and tried to lie back down, but he caught her and kept her upright.

“Nope, not happening, Naps McGee. Come here.” He made space for her in the crook of his arm, and she snuggled there like a contented kitten.

“You’re an ass,” she said on a sigh.

“Probably. But give the ass a minute before you kick him out, would you? I want to talk about how we’re handling things outside of the bedroom.”

“I thought we made my couch very proud.” A tiny smile kicked up the corner of her lips. He kissed the corner. She’d yet to open her eyes.

“No doubt there. But I meant more generally, how we’re handling this in public. As in, what are we disclosing to people?”

She tensed up, and he hated to lose that loose, warm, snuggling Marianne. But in an instant, the no-nonsense athletic trainer Marianne took her place. She eased out of his hold and rubbed at her eyes with the heels of her hands before blinking them open. It was sort of like watching a mole emerge from being underground for three weeks or something.

“Okay.” She blinked rapidly, then focused on the clock. “You’re a dead man when this is over.”

“Understood.”

She ran her fingers through her hair, looking disgusted when they caught on the snarls. “Oh, that’s lovely,” she muttered, but kept thinking. “Okay. I guess the real question is, what is there to disclose?”

She said it in a businesslike tone, as if she were asking him for expense reports from last quarter. He knew that wasn’t how she viewed them and their situation, but it was still a tad unnerving how she was able to shift back and forth between the lover and the trainer so quickly. “Well, we’re having sex.”

“We are.” She looked at the two dented pillows behind them. “Good sex.”

“No arguments here. But,” he said firmly, and took hold of one of her hands, kissing the palm, “I’d like more than that.”

She watched her hand as her fingers curled slowly over the area he’d kissed. “So would I.”

“Two for two there. Sounds like we’ve got something to disclose. I’m not sure who your supervisor is, but I would assume you have one.”

“I do. Several, in fact.”

“Sounds familiar.” He thought back to his chain of command at his home base and smiled. “There’s never a lack of leadership in the military, is there?”

“Brad, it . . .” She sighed and rubbed her hands over her arms. “It worries me. I’ve got plans for after this. I’m really trying to lead into a career with a professional team. How’s it going to look that I’m known for sleeping with the athletes I’m working with?”

“You’re not sleeping with me, you’re dating me. We’re a thing. And unless there are others—which you said there weren’t—”

“There aren’t,” she agreed quickly.

“Then I’m a one-off. I’m your special snowflake.” He grinned when she groaned, grabbed her pillow and hit him with it. “And besides, if we’re dating, then that means you’re not exactly available to be hanging all over pro athletes, doesn’t it?”

“Women cheat.”

“Not my woman,” he said firmly, and she groaned all over again. “Sorry. Had to.”

“You can just ‘had to’ right out of here.”

“No way. You said we could sleep in.”

“And you woke me up. You broke the Day Off rules. On purpose. To talk about serious stuff, no less. You don’t break the Day Off rules unless someone’s life is at stake.”

“Day Off rules . . .” he said slowly, a question in his voice.

She held up a fist, started ticking off numbers with her fingers. “One, you don’t set an alarm or get out of bed until your body has caught up on as much sleep as it can stomach. Two, you spend as much time being as slothful as you physically can be. Three, you don’t cook elaborate meals. PB and J are your best buddies on your day off. There are more, but you get the idea. You woke me up. You broke the rule.”

“I’ll make it up to you.” He eased her back, and her eyes drifted closed again, as if she were a doll whose eyelids were designed to close when flat on its back. “Just lie down, and dream of admitting to others you are sleeping with a god.”

She pinched his stomach, and he yelped. But then she settled back against him and sighed with contentment.