Page 142 of Well Played

“What invitation? You can’t rescind it because you never extended it.” I snap back.

“What the hell do you think I was doing? I was inviting you to come stay in my guest room.”

“You were?” How did I get this so wrong?

“Yes. But now I’m asking myself why.” He slides his hands through his hair and rests them on the back of his neck.

“You can’t rescind your invitation; I want to stay.” I raise my voice. “If you came out and asked, I would’ve said yes.” Admitting it makes me feel weak. Maybe it’s the shingles? Doesn’t matter. My chest heaves as if this is the most difficult thing I’ve ever done, and it very well may be. “As long as you’re not dating Kaitlyn.”

“Fine. You’re staying.” Niko says, standing at my bedside with his arms crossed over his chest. “And for the record, I never had an interest in Kaitlyn or anyone else in the league. Until you came along.”

I smile, finally understanding that he likes me. I mean,likes me,likes me.

“Even though I look like something that should be hidden away in a tower?”

“Why? Because half your face is swollen beyond recognition?”

Arrow through the heart, and it’s not one of Cupid’s. I nod.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re still adorable and sexy as hell. Normally,” his voice takes on a thickness. “This would be the part where I take you in my arms and kiss you. It’s driving me crazy that I have to wait until you’re not contagious.” His hand glides over the back of my head where I have no pain, but I feel a very pleasant and alarming sensation down below.

“Do you mean that?” My heart races. I’ve never felt so bad and so good at the same time.

“Every freaking word.”

“What about league and the rules?” I remind him so he can’t use it as an excuse later on.

“I’m the commissioner, aren’t I?”

“Yes,” I answer, uncertain of where he’s going.

He shrugs. “I’ll Take Timmy’s suggestion and change the rule.”

“I know we can’t kiss, but would a hug be okay?” I hate feeling this desperate.

He nods and sits on the edge of the bed with open arms. I toss the blanket aside, lean into him, and close my eyes, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. A heart I hope to touch and fill.

I can’t wait to leave this cold, sterile room and move on to Nico’s home. And life. Even if it means he moves his furniture around for us to practice my serves.

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