Page 146 of Never You

“Fuck it,” he says again.

My eyes dart to his lips, and I lick mine, desperate to kiss him.

“What about Della?” My hands move up his arms, a comforting feeling settling inside of me when I enjoy his body under my palms.

“She’s gonna move in with me. I’m going to be paying for her tuition.”

“Really?” I huff, swooning that he wants to take care of his sister like that.

“Fuck it,” he repeats.

“You can’t just say fuck it, and think that’s it.” That’s not how this fucking works. “We still need to talk. You hurt me, Jensen.”

“I know, baby. And I’ll regret that for the rest of my life. But I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. I’ll tell you everything.”

“No more secrets?”

“No more secrets. Just you and me. Fuck the rest.” The warmth of his breath fogs my mind, desperate for his kiss.

“Fuck it,” I whisper against his lips.

“Can I kiss you now without you biting my head off?” His hand cups my cheek, and I close my eyes, leaning into his touch.

I nod, smiling, and he gently places his lips over mine, exploring with a bucketload of affection. Around us, the crowd breaks out in cheers, and sooner than I want, he breaks our connection.

“I guess they approve, huh?” He presses his forehead against mine.

“I guess so.” A giggle comes from my lips.

“I’m sorry I hurt you, baby. I had to fix it first. I didn’t want to give you promises before I knew what was going to happen. When I’d come back to you.”

I bite my lip, butterflies flying through my stomach. “Are you herenow, Jensen?”

“Until you kick me to the curb, Rae Stafford.”

“Then, fuck it.”

45

That was my best game ever. It’s a weird statement since I just won the Stanley Cup, but playing this charity game, knowing Rae would be there waiting for me… well, it upped my game. I was flying on the ice, and I haven’t left that rush now that I’m freshening up in the locker room. Walking out of the shower with a towel wrapped around my hips, Hunter enters with a big grin on his face.

“Well, she didn’t hit you. That’s good, right?”

I open my locker to get dressed. “She still might. She’s too smart to have eighteen thousand witnesses around.”

“No, I saw the look on her face. She’s hooked, man. You’re good.”

“I hope so.” I put on my boxers, then grab my jeans.

Hunter takes a seat on the bench, a leg on both sides. “I see you got some more ink this week?” He points at my chest where a big compass was etched into my skin four days ago. “It’s for her, isn’t it?” He smirks.

“Itisher,” I explain before he nods, understanding exactly what I mean.

“You looked good out there. And not just in a red jersey. You were on fire.”

“It’s the blonde.” I snicker, putting my shirt over my head. “I’m telling you.”

“Can’t blame you. I was always better with Charls around too. I want that Holy Grail in North Carolina next year, so keep her around, man!”

---