Kiss and Don't Tell(103)

“No need to make sense of it,” I say. “Just accept it. You are a queen. You’re my fucking queen.” No woman has ever made me feel this way, either. I’ve never said those words to anyone before. Never wanted to. But Winnie? I’m enraptured. I’m lost in her. I’m hers. And only hers. I bring her lips to mine and I allow myself to get lost as she sits on top of me.





“Are you nervous about tomorrow?” Winnie asks.

Her back is to my chest, she’s wearing one of my shirts and I’m wearing boxer briefs, and I’m spooning the hell out of this girl.

“A little,” I answer honestly.

“What are you nervous about?”

I snuggle her in closer, finding comfort from the simplicity of having her in my arms.

“General nerves. If they find something, what would that mean?”

She’s silent for a second and then says, “Would you tell me about it? About the day you were injured? Or is it too much of a sensitive topic for you? I understand if you don’t want to talk about it.”

I sigh and kiss her head. “I don’t mind talking about it with you.” She turns in my arms and faces me. Cutely, she tucks her hands under her pillow and waits for me to start talking. But I can’t help but notice just how breathtaking she is. “You’re beautiful,” I say.

“Thank you,” she answers.

Sighing, I think back to the day. “We were playing Oakland. It was a preseason game and I was feeling a little off. I couldn’t tell you why, but for some reason, my head wasn’t fully in the game. Oakland broke out and when defense was catching up, I blinked and lost sight of the puck. Next thing I know, I glance to my right and that was it. I was out cold after that. Next thing I remember, I’m in the training room with our doctor hovering over me, checking me out. When I was finally able to process what was happening, and realize I was in the hospital, they told me I had a severe concussion and that I would be out for a few weeks.”

“Did someone stay with you that night?” she asks, her voice incredibly concerned.

“Taters did. He woke me up every hour to make sure I was okay. He can be a dick, but he’s also one of the best guys I know.”

“I can see that.” Her finger glides over my chest. “How long did it take for the migraines to kick in?”

“Immediately,” I answer. “But I didn’t say anything.”

“What?” she asks. “Why wouldn’t you say anything?”

“I was at home, fucking pissed, sitting back and watching my team do all the work. I wanted to be back on the ice and I wasn’t about to prolong that.”

“Pacey, when did they find out about the migraines?”

“Two months in, after I didn’t show up for a warm-up. I couldn’t get out of my car after driving to the stadium. I still don’t know how I made it there, how I drove through traffic while my head was hurting that bad.”

“Did they do tests then?”

I shake my head. “No. I downplayed it a bit, said it’s something I’ve experienced before but always tried to work through it. After my sixth missed game, they caught on. I told them I would take care of it after the season, but I wanted to make it through the playoff run. I saw Doc before we left for Banff, told him even though I had some migraines, I was fine and feeling good.”

“But you weren’t, were you?”

“At the time, yeah, I was fine. But the boys know me better and called me out. Hence why we’re here and not in Banff, where I want to be.”

“I’m glad they called you out.”

“I’m glad you’re here with me,” I say, pressing a kiss to her lips.

“I think you’re lucky you have brothers that care that much about you. You’re an elite sportsman and have to be at peak condition. You’re paid to be, so you have to put your health first. But you’re also their friend and someone they obviously care about. Not everyone has that.” She’s right. And I ought to be more grateful.

“Yeah, you’re right. Thank you for saying that . . . much more gently than said brothers.” She laughs.

“I was thinking—while you’re getting checked out tomorrow, I’d make you dinner,” she says while her fingers dance across my chest.

“Yeah? What were you thinking about making?”

“Any requests?”

I think about it. “Besides your pussy for dessert?”

“Oh my God, Pacey.” I chuckle as she pushes at me. “Are you always such a horny man?”

“Never. You’ve done this to me.”

She shakes her head and asks, “Seriously, anything you don’t like? Anything you’re allergic to?”

“I like pretty much anything and I’m sure I’ll like whatever you make me.” I press a kiss to her nose.

“Do you need me to drop you off?” she asks. “How do you plan on getting to your appointment since your car is in Banff?”

“Got a driver coming to get me tomorrow. No worries there.”

“Oh, you’re fancy,” she playfully says and then asks, “It’s not going to be weird, you know, me staying at your place for a few days, cooking you dinner? That doesn’t freak you out?”