“That’s not true. You had great stats that year.”
He blinked. “You memorized my stats?”
“Of course I did. I love football.” She reached out and touched his cheek. “Tonight has been…surreal. Thank you for dancing with me, and teaching me yoga, and…”
Kissing her? Was that what she’d been about to say? He hoped not. If she thanked him for that, he might just have to do it again. “I agree. But it’s not over yet.” Unless she wanted it to be. Was that what she hinted at? “Or is that your polite way of kicking me out of your bed?”
“No, of course not.” She bit her lip. He’d learned that she did that when she was thinking, or stressed about something. “You can stay all night if you want. I don’t mind.”
“Don’t have to be in early for work?”
She smiled. “Nine. But that’s not exactly early. You?”
“Practice at ten. Not early, either.”
She tapped her fingers on the bed between them. “Are you nervous for this weekend?”
“Not really.” He shrugged. “I don’t really get nervous…like, ever.”
She pressed her lips together. “Ever?”
“Correct,” he said. “I’ve got to be the calm one out there. If I’m losing my shit and scared to lose, my team will sense it, and it messes up the whole vibe.”
She locked eyes with him, her lips parted slightly. “But that’s on the field. What about, like, real life? Dates? Interviews? Sex?”
“Sex doesn’t make me nervous.” He scooted closer to her, but then stopped himself. Bad. Fucking. Idea. “I know what I’m doing in bed, and as I said, it’s like dancing. One partner takes the lead, and the other enjoys the ride, so to speak.”
Her cheeks pinked even more, and her breath quickened. “Do you like to be in control, or do you like to enjoy the ride?”
Shit. He shouldn’t answer that. But, in his defense, he hadn’t started this topic. She had…and she deserved an answer, right? “I like to be in control. What about you?”
His voice sounded deeper than usual.
Fuuuuck.
“I…” She licked her lips, shifting slightly. “I guess I…I guess I’d like to enjoy the ride.”
“You guess?” He frowned. “Are you…have you never…?”
“I have,” she said quickly, passing pink and going straight to red at this point. “Just, only with one man, and not in five years.”
“Jesus.” He rolled onto his side so he could see her. Her mouth. Her eyes. Her slim, curvy body. Everything about her screamed perfection, and yet she’d kept herself locked away for five years because of an asshole who hadn’t treated her right? That made him sad. “You need to get out there. I meant what I said earlier. You’re the whole package. Some guy would be lucky to call you his.”
She took a breath, her eyes glassing over with what might have been tears, but they disappeared when she blinked. “I’m going to. I’m going to live again.”
“Good.” Although, for some reason, the idea of her living through other men didn’t sit well with him. In fact, he was pretty sure he was about to hurl. “You deserve happiness.”
She bit her tongue. “So do you.”
“I’m happy,” he said, perhaps a little defensively.
He wasn’t sure why, though.
“I’m going to remember this night, this conversation, fondly,” she admitted. “I’ll never forget that, for one night, I had a guy like you in my bed.”
Unable to resist, despite the warning bells going off in his head, he pressed his mouth to her forehead, kissing her sweetly. Somehow, someway, it was even more personal than the kiss he had given her earlier in her living room. “Even when there’s another man next to you?”
“I guess it depends on the guy, doesn’t it?”