My gaze shifts to Amelia’s back, and I go hard everywhere. It’s been a long nine days on the road. We FaceTimed every night, and I am really enjoying getting to know her again. We’ve talked about all the trivial stuff like favorite foods—she’s a pizza girl, and I sure as hell don’t say no to pizza. She only drinks water and wine, which I find very healthy, but she says it’s because she doesn’t like anything else. I told her that Dr. Pepper was life, but she disagreed. I thought she would be one of those girlie-movie girls, but she actually is a huge fan of Lord of the Rings. I belong in the Shire, so it was fun to find we both enjoy the same thing. I told her we needed a movie night, and she didn’t disagree. She was eager, which excited me. Then, I really don’t know why, we decided to play Words with Friends. She sucks, and I’m a winner. But if you ask her, it’s the other way around. So hopefully no one asks her.
I love talking to her. We talked more than I did with my parents on our trip, but damn it, I’m yearning for something deeper. That stuff will need to be discussed in person. I feel she’s holding back. I get it, I do, but I want more. I was really excited she wanted me to come over tonight, but then I found out her cousin is in town. So while here I thought I was getting somewhere, come to find out, I’m not.
But I won’t quit.
I rap my knuckles against the door as Nico says, “The cousin better be hot so I can at least stare at her.”
I glance back at him. “Okay, weirdo.”
He snorts in response as the door opens. There she is. Good Lord. FaceTime does not do this girl justice. She’s wearing a short halter top that cuts down low on her breasts and shows a thin line of skin along her stomach. Luckily for her athletic career, she doesn’t have large breasts, but I’m sure there is enough for me. Her pants are high cut, wrapping around her waist and almost like a second skin on her bottom half. She has makeup on, dark over her eyelids, making her eyes pop with color. Her hair is down over her shoulders, bone-straight and dark.
“Hey,” she says, her lips curving up.
I move in closer, and when she doesn’t pull away, I lose my train of thought. I wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her in as she wraps her arms around me, hugging me tightly. Not what I want, but I’ll take it. I move my mouth to her ear, and hell, she smells like roses.
“You leave me absolutely breathless,” I whisper, and I feel her body go still.
She pulls back, her eyes hesitant but sweet. “Thanks.”
I hand her the bottle of wine and the flowers, and her grin grows. “Well, aren’t you bringing all the goodies.”
“All for you.”
She draws in a deep breath, her cheeks rosy with color. “Come on in.”
She turns, and I take in that sweet ass of hers as she walks toward the counter that separates the kitchen from the living room.
Nico leans in, looking up at me. “Dressed like that, it’s easy to say she wants you.” He then passes by me and says, “The party is here!”
I’m going to kill him.
I shut the door behind me and turn just as Shelli comes out of her bedroom. “Hey, Chandler.”
“Hey, Shelli,” I say with a wave. I’ve met her a few times, usually at Ryan’s house. “How’s New York?”
“Great. Living my best life.”
“Awesome,” I say with a grin. Nico smacks my hip, and I look over at him with an annoyed expression. He nods toward Shelli, and I roll my eyes. “Shelli, this is my buddy Nico.”
He holds out his hand, and she takes it as she says, “Nico Merryweather, goalie for the IceCats, save percentage .939 right now. Pretty damn impressive. My dad would be so jealous I got to meet you before him.”
Nico looks as if he just creamed his pants. “Wow, and you are? And who’s your dad?”
“Shelli Adler, daughter of Shea Adler.”
Nico’s mouth drops open. “Marry me?”
“Nope, sorry,” she says with a wink and then walks off like it’s nothing.
“Nico, what the hell?”
“What? Adler is the greatest player of all time!”
From the bar in the kitchen, Amelia laughs. “That happens a lot.”
I grin back at her. “What, the proposal?”
“Yup. All players want Shelli because of my uncle—”
“Except one,” Shelli complains.
“I’ll be him,” Nico says, and we all laugh. Well, not Nico. He’s serious.
I really shouldn’t have brought him.
I lean on the bar, held up by my elbows as I watch Amelia make a salad. “Need some help?”
She raises a brow. “Thought you couldn’t cook?”