He grunts, and I manage a “Sorry,” but all he does is laugh.
“Yet you’re still on top of me.”
“Can’t. Move.”
“I take it you liked your first time dicking someone out?”
“Understatement. When can we do it again?”
Lennon laughs, and it’s the best sound in the world. Either that or I’m cum drunk.
Yeah, probably that.
I slowly roll off him and onto my back. “So.” I breathe heavily. “Neil Patrick Harris in a harness?”
“Sweet Neil Patrick Harris in a harness.”
“Care to explain?”
He faces me, his blue eyes shining in the dark. “Sometimes fuck doesn’t cover it.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
LENNON
It’s been a long time since I’ve woken up wrapped around someone, and if it weren’t for Ollie’s mom calling out “Breakfast is ready,” I’d happily stay here.
Ollie’s body is warm and large, and his arms encase me tightly as if he’s scared to let me go.
I’ve had boyfriends in the past, and even if they never lasted long, this is probably what I miss the most. Waking up next to someone who makes me all disgustingly mushy inside.
My body’s all floaty, my mind empty—a state only a night of great orgasms can achieve.
That all turns to shit when one of Ollie’s brothers knocks on the bedroom door.
“Hurry up. Some of us need coffee thanks to being awake half the night listening to your fuck session.”
My eyes widen, and I nudge Ollie. All he does is mumble something I can’t understand and rolls over to face the other way.
“Your brothers are here?” I ask.
“Mmm, they were all drinking and stayed the night.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me that? They heard everything.”
“We weren’t that loud,” he says through a yawn.
Only, when we drag our asses out of bed and head downstairs, it’s pretty damn clear we were that loud.
All four of Ollie’s brothers clap and cheer, and his mom refuses to look either of us in the eye as she flits around the kitchen.
“Really, Ollie,” Nic says, “you should’ve known why the oldest was always put in the attic. The noise from up there travels. It was Ma and Dad’s way of making sure we didn’t bring a girl home and impregnate her.”
I’m sure the pink tinge on Ollie’s face matches mine.
Note to self: never, ever, have sex with Ollie in his parents’ house ever again.
“Well, it worked, didn’t it? No teen pregnancies in this house,” their mom says and starts putting plates on the table. “But at least you two know for next time.”
“Although to be fair, in your own words, Ma, I won’t be getting anyone pregnant up there.” Ollie’s able to laugh off his embarrassment, but I’m not as easy.
“Well, I’d love to stay for breakfast, but I’m going to go drown myself,” I say and try to run away.
Only, I run straight into Ollie’s dad. “Pfft. No need to run off. There’s really no secrets between us now.”
Ollie’s brothers snicker.
“I’m so sorry,” Ollie whispers to me.
Either they’ve all had their fun or they’ve taken pity on me, but they drop it after that.
Everyone seems looser this morning than the tension-filled disaster I missed out on while I was asleep all afternoon.
Even Ollie appears more relaxed. He smiles at me in a way I’ve only ever wished to be smiled at. Like, we’re actually a couple.
When we’re not. I mean, not really. I have no idea what’s going on in Ollie’s head.
He basically passed out last night as soon as we’d cleaned ourselves up, and it’s not like we’ve had a chance to talk this morning.
After breakfast, Ollie turns to me. “I was gonna go see Tommy today before the game if you wanna come? Or do you have to get back to the city?”
“I’ve got everything I need for tonight’s game, so I’m easy.” I wince when everyone laughs. “Walked right into that one, didn’t I?”
“You’re gonna be so much fun to have around, Clarky,” Max says.
Even if I’m mortified, the mockery is different to the type I suffered through in high school, and I know they accept me, which is something I wasn’t so sure would happen. Especially from Max, who I thought would never be okay with me being with his brother instead of Ash.
“I could’ve gone back to my hotel room,” I say as we pull into the driveway of a cute house somewhere in suburbialand outside the city.
“I wanted you to come. And Tommy knows about us anyway.”
It’s slow going on my behalf as we get out of Ollie’s parents’ car he’s borrowed and make our way up the stone path toward the house, which has a giant wraparound porch filled with kids’ toys.
“This house isn’t exactly what I was expecting for a hockey legend with ten seasons under his belt,” I say.
Ollie smiles. “This is their everyday home—the one they live in most. There’s also the apartment in the city for game nights and the holiday house on the Cape.”