Page 103 of Playing Games

Blake

I step out of the shower and dry off with one of the fluffy towels Lexi was adamant about buying and keeping at my place. Apparently, my flimsy towels weren’t cutting it.

I smile to myself as I think about the conversation that transpired on that topic.

I told her my towels were just fine, and she responded by diving into a ten-minute discussion about how our skin is the largest organ of our body and having good towels is imperative to the delicate nature of the human biome.

Hence, how I ended up with new, fancy-as-fuck towels in my apartment.

I can’t deny they feel a hell of a lot better on my skin, but no way in hell am I going to admit that to Lex. Even though she’s the smartest person I know, the smartest person in every room she steps into, I prefer to keep my girl on her toes every once in a while. If that means telling secret white lies about how I don’t notice a difference with the new towels—even though they are the epitome of luxury—so be it.

Once I’m dried off and dressed for the day, I brush my teeth and run a comb through my hair before heading into the kitchen.

Lexi is sitting at the small island across from the fridge, her laptop out and her fingers busy at work. The cutest little wrinkle mars the space between her eyebrows, and she’s so focused on whatever she’s doing that she doesn’t even notice my presence at first.

I gently press a kiss to her forehead as I pass her, but other than that, I let her be. I know Lexi well enough to know when an interruption is a good thing or a bad thing. Right now, it’d be a bad thing. But she’ll come around to me in due time.

By the time I have a cup of coffee poured and my preferred sugar and creamer mixed in, I feel two petite arms wrap around my waist. I turn around to find Lexi standing there, her blue eyes bright and her smile beautiful.

“Mornin’, Lex,” I say and set my cup of coffee back on the counter to wrap my arms around her for a suitable good-morning hug.

“Morning,” she says, resting her chin on my chest as I gently sway us back and forth.

We’ve only officially been together for a little over a week, and I still can’t get over how much things have changed. We aren’t living together, but we’ve resumed the routine of staying at each other’s places nearly every night. Last night, she stayed at my place. And the two nights before that, I was at hers.

“So…it’s decided, then,” I say, a big smile on my lips as I think about our quiet conversation in bed last night after I made Lexi come three times—two while she rode my face, and the big finalewas when I got to witness her riding my cock like my favorite rodeo queen. It was fucking fantastic, but it pales in comparison to the conversation that occurred after.

“It’s decided.” Lexi’s smile matches mine. “We’re moving in together.”

“Are you sure you want to live with your football-playing boyfriend who comes home sweaty ninety-nine percent of the time and has horrible taste in towels?”

“I’ve already fixed the towel situation,” she says with a wink. “And I don’t mind the sweat.”

I reach down to squeeze her ass playfully. “Good.”

“But don’t jump the gun on this, okay?” she requests, standing on her tippy-toes to press a kiss to my lips. “I still have a few more buildings to scout, and the ideal location for our apartment provides easy commutes for both of us.”

Despite her numerous job offers all over the country—from incredible companies and organizations that pretty much everyone in the world knows—Lexi has decided she wants to stay in New York. She’s also decided that she doesn’t want to work for someone else. She wants to work for herself.

“I’m pretty sure your mind is already set on one specific location in Lower Manhattan, but I will wait patiently for the official go-ahead.”

“Perfect.” She steps out of my embrace when her phone starts ringing from the spot beside her laptop. She answers it on the second ring, even tapping the button so it’s on speaker while she sits back down to finish up whatever she is working on.

And I head over to the stove to start making us some eggs.

“Lexi!” her lawyer Caplin Hawkins greets jovially into the receiver. “I have some news.”

“Okay…”

“Do you want to hear the news?” he asks, a hint of teasing in his tone. Lexi rolls her eyes.

“If it’s about the contract you’re working on for me, clearly, I want to hear the news.”

“That’s great to hear because I have some news,” he says, but he doesn’t pussyfoot around. “Medivanta upped their offer. Thirty-two million.”

“And what about the provisions?”

“That is still being negotiated.”

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