Page 71 of The Check Down

So what did I do? I suggested we implement the three-date rule. A moratorium on sex until I’ve taken her on three dates.

God, I’m a fucking idiot.

To her credit, Brynn did try to convince me this waiting period was unnecessary. But I’ve held my ground.

The result? Last night, after an Italian dinner and hot-and-heavy couch make-out session, I googled whether it was possible for a man to die of blue balls.

Brynn’s response? “At least they’ll match your uniform.”

So far, we’ve gone out twice. Monday night’s foray into the best of Memphis barbeque, complete with a sausage and cheese plate starter, of course. And last night’s romantic Italian dinner. My practice schedule has been different this week due to our bye, so we’ve moved our Memphis Magic outing to today—Thursday. And we’re counting it as our third date, so that means…

Tonight, I’m fucking finally getting my hands on the woman I’ve developed a bit of an obsession with.

At the sound of footsteps on the stairs, I brace my hands on the cool granite, willing my heart rate to remain steady. She pauses at the bottom, her perfect lips lifting into a playful smile, those dark eyes alight. She’s dressed for class—professor chic—in high-waisted black-and-tan plaid pants and a fitted black turtleneck, the soft material molded to every curve I’m putting my mouth on tonight.

Every time she walks in the goddamn room, another piece of my heart becomes hers.

I slide the steaming bowl of oatmeal across the bar, along with a mug of coffee prepared the way she likes it.

Her eyes narrow as she slides onto the stool across from me. “Starting a new puzzle, huh?”

The grin I give her is as cheeky as I can make it. “Thought the occasion called for one, so yeah.”

Blushing, she lowers her head and focuses on her breakfast. “Hmm.” She spoons a scoop of oatmeal into her mouth, and that tiny peek of her tongue heats my blood. “Someone is giddy.”

“Damn right I am.” When her smile sinks into a slow fade, my insides twist.

“You’re not, uh…you’re not rethinking tonight, are you?”

She sets her spoon inside the bowl and regards me, her lips pressed together and her expression unreadable.

My heart ticks faster the longer she’s silent.

“Griffin,” she murmurs. “I want tonight to happen. So much.”

I release a breath of relief, but it’s cut off when she continues.

“But I’m just…” Her brows draw together. “Well, you’re…you.” She waves a hand between us. “And I—I don’t want to disappoint you.”

Before her last word is released, I’m at her side, framing her beautiful face. “Baby.” I kiss her sweet lips. “Please hear this: there is no possible way you could disappoint me.”

She opens her mouth to protest, but I don’t allow it.

“Evenif you told me you wanted to wait and spend the evening doing crossword puzzles instead.”

This time when she opens her mouth to argue, I sweep in with a kiss, a deep, languid one that I hope will cast her doubts aside. I taste notes of the maple-cinnamon flavor of her breakfast, but that’s not all.

She tastes like forever.

I place her hand over the bulge growing in my thin joggers. The move causes her to suck in a breath, and those brown irises I love so much darken.

“This, professor. This is what you do to me with one kiss.” I bring my mouth to her ear and rumble, “There’s not a chance in hell I’ll be disappointed.” A quick kiss to the tip of her nose, and I pull away. “Now, finish your breakfast and get to class. I’ll see you at lunchtime.”

My painful erection and I make it to the shower, but I refuse to jerk off. I turn the dial and let the tepid water sluice over my tense muscles and overheated skin.

A good, cold twenty minutes later, I get dressed, my stomach fizzy and my body light. I do my best to pass thetime until Brynn gets home: studying film on my iPad, alphabetizing my record collection, sorting through a couple of boxes of football memorabilia and merch that’s stored in the extra room upstairs. I even grab a handful of mini dragons from my hidden stash and hide them around the apartment. But nothing holds my attention for long.

Impatient, I drop onto the couch and check the time. Still an hour until she’s through with class. Which means it’s lunchtime in Georgia. I pull up the contact I’m looking for and make the call.

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