Pompous Player (Cocky Hero Club)

“There goes your theory,” Harry says two hours later as I climb off his lap and curl against his side in the king-size bed in the master bedroom.

“I actually thought the second time was…even better,” I admit. “And then the third time was—”

“Better yet,” he finishes.

“It was.”

We both look up at the ceiling in the darkened room for a minute, lost in our thoughts.

“Be with me,” Harry says, cutting through the quiet.

“I’m about as close as I can possibly get.”

“I mean when we get home. All the time. Be with me. A real couple.”

I lean up on my elbow and look down at the outline of his face in the dark.

“Don’t you think we’d drive each other crazy?”

He smiles, stroking his thumb over the bare skin of my hip. “I’ll happily fight with you every day for the rest of my life if we get to have make-up sex like that.”

“It’s not just about sex, though. It’s more complicated than that.”

“Only if we make it that way. We’re both single, we both love Avery…it feels like we’re already a family.”

I sit up, bringing my knees to my chest. “You make it sound like we should be together because it’s convenient.”

Harry’s single note of laughter isn’t amused. “You’re the least convenient woman I’ve ever known, Winter.”

I sigh softly, my emotions jumbled.

“I’m questioning whether I still hate you. That’s progress.”

This time, Harry’s laugh is genuine. “Okay, I’ll take it. And I have this whole weekend alone with you to try to convince you to be more than my roommate who doesn’t hate me.”

I grin over at him in the darkness. “Has a nice ring to it, though, right? You could introduce me to your friends that way. ‘This is Winter, my roommate who doesn’t hate me.’”

“That’s not gonna work for me, smart-ass.”

“Better than when I hated you. I won’t swap out your coffee for decaf anymore.”

“I knew you did that!” Harry reaches over and hooks an arm around my waist, pulling me down on the bed. “I knew you did something to my coffee; I could barely keep my eyes open during my work meetings.”

“It was a long time ago.” I try not to laugh, but fail.

“Not that long ago. What kind of animal switches out the coffee of a man while he has a newborn baby at home?”

“A vicious one,” I say, trying to wiggle away as he tickles my side.

“I’ll show you vicious,” he teases, tickling me until I can hardly breathe.

“Stop,” I finally manage to say. “Kiss me instead.”

He stops, and I’m still breathing hard when he leans down, stopping when his lips are an inch from mine.

“Say you’ll be with me,” he says, a note of pleading in his tone.

“I’ll think about it,” I say. “Now kiss me, Harry.”

Chapter Twenty

Winter

“I knew it!” Aubrey cries into the phone. “I knew you guys would end up getting together.”

“Don’t get too excited, there. Don’t want you to hurt yourself or anything.”

My sister laughs. “I had a baby, Winter. I’m fine. The vag is still intact and everything.”

I can’t help myself when I burst out laughing. “Oh my God, Aubrey! Only you would say that. And you’re supposed to be recuperating, you know.”

“It’s all good, promise.”

“How is my super handsome baby nephew, by the way?”

Aubrey sighs contentedly. “Absolutely perfect. I’m so in love with him.”

“How was your labor?”

“Ugh, about as expected,” she says groaning, and I know it was probably incredibly painful, “but so worth it.”

“And is Big Chance helping with the baby?”

She snorts. “Big Chance is a little too helpful. He’s trying so hard; he’s like a helicopter mom, except it’s helicopter husband. But I love him so much.”

“I’m so happy for you.”

“Thank you. Now tell me all about you and Dirty Harry.”

“Uhhh…” I laugh, glad she can’t see me blushing. “Turns out the nickname is very, let’s say, well deserved.”

“I’ll just bet it is. I’m glad you finally stopped being so stubborn.”

I shift Avery in my arms so she can look out the windows at the city skyline. Harry and I have been back from our trip for a couple days now. Viv left yesterday, promising to return next month, and Harry is back at work. It’s just Avery and me at the apartment today and I can’t stop thinking about the weekend.

“It doesn’t mean we’re together,” I clarify.

“Right,” my sister draws out the word, sounding unconvinced.

“It doesn’t.”

“What do you think it means?”

I smooth back Avery’s dark hair. It’s growing out and starting to show a hint of curl. She’s drooling, so I grab the cloth draped over her tummy and gently wipe her chin, balancing the phone on my shoulder.

“Why does it have to mean anything?” I ask. “Can’t it just be two single, consenting adults having a fun weekend together?”

“Yeah, it can be. But I can tell by your voice it was more than that.”