Page 128 of Hat Trick

We’ve done all our hooking up at my place or in her hotel room on the road. A dozen times together, and we’ve figured out a routine. The invitation via text. The make-out session then the quick orgasm I get out of her. The easy way she climbs on top of me and rides me like there’s no tomorrow and the quiet moments after when we clean up before going our separate ways.

I didn’t want to push her to see her place, afraid it might seem like I was trying to take a step she didn’t want to take. I’m desperate for a crumb of her attention, and if that means turning my bedroom into a sex cave, so be it.

“It is my first time. My self-guided tour was short, but I can tell it’s nice,” I say with a smile.

There are pieces of her personality woven throughout the entire apartment. There’s the old photos and sports jerseys in glass frames on the walls. Her collection of romance books and the dish towels hanging from her oven, one that saysfuck the cookand the other that hasif it involves fake smiling, I’m not goingstitched on it. A stack of blankets on the arm of the couch and way too many throw pillows.

It’s bright and bold and so perfectlyher, and I’m glad she invited me to stay, even if I had to force my way in.

“Are you immune to this awful sickness?” she asks. “It’s impressive half the team is ill and you’re walking around like it’s just another day in the park.”

“Pretty sure my bionic leg can stop any virus. I cheated death once, and now I’m invincible.” I finish the braid and secure it in place with the hair tie on Lexi’s wrist. “And apparentlynotgood at doing hair.”

Lexi touches the back of her head and laughs. “You missed a chunk over here.”

“Don’t question it, Armstrong. Some appreciation would be nice.”

“I’m sorry.” She tilts her chin and looks up at me. She’s fighting a smile, but it doesn’t stop her eyes from crinkling in the corners or from her nose scrunching, and she’s the cutest thing in the whole fucking world. “Thank youvery muchfor being my personal stylist. I’m going to wear it like this to our next game. When I get compliments—and I know I will—I’ll make sure to let everyone know you’re the one who did it.”

“Your sarcasm is top-notch.” I touch her forehead, relieved to find her cooler than she was when I first got here. “If the athletic trainer gig doesn’t work out, you should think about a career in comedy.”

“I’d kill at standup.”

“Only if you don’t talk about my dick.”

“Believe it or not, my life doesn’t revolve around your penis, Riley.”

I laugh and stretch out my leg. My prosthetic has been acting up today. There’s a twinge of phantom pain in my residual limb, and doing laundry, changing sheets, and walking five laps around a grocery store I wasn’t familiar with to find soup ingredients hasn’t helped the ache.

“Mind if I adjust our positions?” I ask, and she frowns.

“You’re not comfortable.”

“That’s not your doing. That’s a drunk driver’s doing.”

“We could go to my bedroom,” she suggests, and when I level her with a serious look that tells herabsolutely the fuck not, she rolls her eyes. “To spread out and get comfortable. Calm down. I wasn’t going to jerk you off. The lingering smell of vomit doesn’t really do it for me.”

“Bummer. That’s the only thing that gets me going. This friendship might not work out long-term.”

I stand and bend to pick her up. She tries to protest when I scoop her in my arms, but I’m already heading down the hall. I’m kicking open her bedroom door and setting her on the clean sheets I put on the bed a couple of hours ago.

“Wait.” Lexi frowns and unravels herself from the horde of blankets she brought with her. “Why does it smell so good in here?”

“I lit a candle.” I point to the burned-out jar on her nightstand next to the glass of water I brought in earlier. “I got everything set up in case you wanted to nap.”

“You did that for me?”

“Of course I did.” I run a hand through my hair, unsure of what happens next now that she’s settled. “I can head out. I’m sure you want to get some rest and I?—”

“Will you stay and sleep with me?” she whispers. “Just for a few hours?”

That’s not something we’ve done.

Four orgasms in a row? Check. Slipping a blindfold over her eyes then eating her out? Another check.

But sleeping together without any sex involved? That’s new, but she’s blinking at me with wide eyes, a hopeful expression on her face, and I’m sitting on the edge of the bed before I can think twice.

“Do you mind if I take off my leg?” I ask. “It’s heavy and clunky and I can only sleep on my back when I’m wearing it.”

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