Page 46 of Lawson

She laughs softly, nodding at the space. “I spent my college career barely even getting to sleep in my bed, let alone watch TV. Once I secured my job, I decided there was nothing I'd rather do in my downtime than this form of self-care.”

“I love self-care,” I say, setting the ice cream on a little nightstand next to her bed. “Are we about to do face masks?” I tease.

“I'm fresh out of those, but I can stock up for next time.” She grabs some clothes out of a drawer from a dresser inside her closet, and heads to what I can only assume is the en-suite bathroom.

“Next time? Already planning for when I’m back in your bed next?”

“Maybe,” she fires back, then closes the bathroom door behind her.

Jesus, she’s making it hard for me to focus on anything but getting in bed with her.

And even though I’m about to get into bed with this woman, Iwon’tbe seducing her. She just got some creepy ass note from her ex, this issonot the time to continue our hot-as-fuck-saga that started in Kiplin's office.

I chuckle to myself as I find the remote to her TV, pulling up her Netflix and queuing season two of Bridgerton, not knowing which one she wanted to watch but seeing from her watch history that this was up next.

I kick off my shoes, grateful for my postgame sweatpants and T-shirt attire, and hop on the side of the bed that I assume isn’t hers, since the opposite nightstand indicates daily usage with pens and notebooks and other books scattered across it.

Is my girl into journaling? I'll have to ask her—except she isn’t reallymyanything. Yet here I am, after a game win ready to marathon a show instead of drinking celebratory beers with my teammates.

There’s at leastsomepart of me that believes there’s way more to this than friendship and chemistry, but the other part of me is reminding myself that I don’t do relationships. They’re too complicated and put my career focus at risk.

But I can’t deny those risks seem a lot smaller when it comes to Blakely.

She opens the door to the bathroom, coming out fully changed in a pair of PJ’s that make my dick hard just from looking at her.

She wears a pair of cotton linen lavender pajama bottoms and a matching tank top hugging her supple breasts. It’s all I can do tonotstare, and I force myself to look at the TV as she climbs into the bed next to me, grabbing the ice cream and handing me an open pint.

“Cheers,” she says, clinking her spoon against mine.

“Cheers,” I say, mimicking her movements, then I hit play on the show.

After twenty minutes, we've thrown in the towel with the ice cream, me rushing it back to the freezer and tossing the spoons in the dishwasher. When I come back, Blakely smiles at me.

“Thank you so much again for being here,” she says. “I know it's ridiculous, but it makes me feel less worried when you're around.”

“It's not ridiculous,” I say climbing back into bed. “I told you, there's nowhere I'd rather be.”

“What about Seattle?” she asks, arching a brow. “Weren’t you joking a few weeks ago that you’d rather be at the Sharks’ arena?”

I cringe, hissing through my teeth. “You heard that?”

“I’m a coach,” she says, shrugging. “I hear everything.”

I nod. “The Sharks have been my favorite team since I was a kid. Was I dreaming of being the one they drafted? Yes. Would I entertain a trade offer? Also, yes…but…”

“But?”

“I don’t know, we’re getting into a groove,” I say. “We’ve only just had our first preseason game, but there’s something about this team.” And there’s something about her, but I don’t add that fact.

“I know,” she says, smiling softly. “The Badgers have a way of growing on you.”

She stares at me for a long moment, something snapping between us that I can't exactly describe. I'm about to open my mouth and probably say something stupid, but she saves me, and hits play on the show again.

One episode rolls into the next, the two of us chatting and laughing in between certain scenes. By episode three, I’ve wrapped my arm around her and she’s leaning against my chest as we watch.

And while I’m enjoying the show, I'm more marveling at the fact that I'm having such a great time simply watching TV with her in my arms. I find myself excited to see how she responds to certain things, or what her favorite parts or characters are, anything that gives me more insight into who she is.

And I'm suddenly aware of how fucking luckyIam to be the one sitting right here with her in my arms.

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