Page 121 of On the Power Play

Jack hastily spread toothpaste on his brush, wet it, and shoved it in his mouth. He didn’t come close to the recommended brush time since he was standing there leaning against the sink before Delia was even half done.

“That’s not helping,” she said around the whir of her electric toothbrush.

“What?”

“You. Watching me.” She lifted a finger to swipe away a drip of white foam, and Jack laughed. He turned his back, and Delia exhaled. She looked ridiculous, and the last thing she wanted to do was kill whatever energy they’d had a few moments before.

When her toothbrush beeped for the final time, she spit and rinsed, then set it on the counter and found a washcloth to dry her lips.

Blood rushed in her ears as she stared at Jack’s backside. She was done, but she had no idea how to reenter the situation. Jack must’ve noticed the lack of movement or sound behind him because he turned. “Done?”

She nodded.

“Then why are you still standing over there?”

Delia’s hands shook as she stepped forward. Jack had a good reason for taking a dating hiatus, but she didn’t. Her relationship desert had come purely because of her inability to match well with someone. So even though she could feel the electricity pulsing between them, her thoughts started to get away from her.

What if you can’t get there? What if he thinks that means you’re not into it? What if he just lost a game and then has to walk away disappointed from this, too?

Jack reached out and tilted her chin up. He turned her head side to side. “Just checking.”

“For what?”

“Pupil size.”

Delia couldn’t help her confused look. “What?”

“You looked like you were about to have a stroke or something?—”

Delia smacked her hand against his chest and, just like it always did around Jack, the truth came tumbling out. “I’m nervous, okay? Haven’t you ever been nervous?”

Jack laughed and grabbed onto her wrist, pulling her out of the washroom. “All the time. I threw up before the game.”

“And you kissed me with that mouth?”

“I brushed in the dressing room! They actually had supplies in there this time.”

Delia squealed as Jack pulled her onto the bed and caged her beneath him. “I chose the wrong profession.”

She sank into the mattress as Jack pressed his leg between hers and lowered himself against her body. He held his weight on his forearm as he lifted a hand to her cheek. “Based on your pond skating, I think it’s wise you didn’t choose hockey.”

Delia groaned. “My tailbone is still bruised, by the way.”

Jack reached his hand under her hip. “Yeah? Where does it hurt?”

“Stop.” She laughed.

“Here?” He ran his hand along the waistband of her joggers.

Delia shook her head, suddenly sober and breathless. She looked up at him through her lashes. “A little lower, I think.”

Jack’s jaw tightened as his eyes snapped into focus. He slipped his fingers under the cotton fabric, feeling along the top of the lace thong she might have worn purely because it matched a very specific bra she’d put on in Jack’s washroom.

Jack’s breathing changed, sending a thrill from the crown of her head to her toes. “There?” His fingers played with the scalloped edges.

“Getting closer.”

Jack dropped his mouth to hers, his hand growing more frantic as he explored her skin, pulling the waistband of her pants tight. She reached down and tugged her joggers over her hips, then let Jack do the rest. His fingers brushed against her legs as he pulled them off, and she’d never been more grateful she’d shaved the night before.

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