Page 62 of Sweet Thing

I looked up into those denim-blue eyes and saw something like hunger there. Again, the denial came fast, my mind racing to cover what instinct knew to be true.

He placed a hand over mine, trapping my palm against his chest. “What I said before, about the jersey. Thinking it was mine.”

I’d wanted to pursue it but chickened out. Now he was bringing it up and I was dying to know what was going on in his brain.

“What about it?”

“I saw you standing there in that jersey and I didn’t like it.”

A pit of disappointment hollowed out my chest, and I pulled my hand away.

“As I said, it wasn’t yours. I wouldn’t go through your stuff like that no matter how cold I was.” The words emerged rusty, pained.

“I hope that’s not true.” His voice was even raspier than mine. “If you were cold, Adeline, I would hope you’d use anything of mine to keep warm.”

Warm me with your body.“You sounded annoyed when you thought the jersey was yours.”

His hand squeezed mine. “Because I liked the idea a little too much.”

Surely, he could hear the thump of my heart. “Me wearing your jersey?”

“Yes.”

Too stunned to respond, all I could do was remain frozen, my go-to in moments of shock or change. But then something in me reared up, a need to fight back and reassert control. I was tired of letting things happen to me.

“What am I supposed to do with that information, Lars?”

“Absolutely nothing, Adeline. I had a knee-jerk reaction of annoyance and pride and lust on seeing you in the jersey of my team. You look so damn good in it that all I can think of is how much better you would look out of it. It’s wrong and I’m owning it. I had a hard time reining in my feelings there, and I didn’t want you to think you’d done anything wrong. You haven’t. You’re just being you. But you being you is not doing good things for my dick.”

My cheeks heated. “It’s not?”

“Well, my dick is having a grand old time whenever I think of you, but my mental health is suffering. Hopefully a bout in the gym will help me work out the toxins.”

I pushed at his chest. “I’m a toxin now?”

“The sweetest kind.”

“It’s not easy for me, either,” I said, a touch indignant.

“No? Good.” A slight smile curved his lips.

At least he could see the funny side of it. I was having a hard time getting on that page.

I pulled my hand away. “This isn’t helping, Lars. You can’t tell me I’m not doing good things for your dick and then push me away. That’s not fair.”

He looked like I’d struck him. “You’re right. It’s not.”

We stared at each other for what felt like forever until finally he said, “I’m gonna head to the gym now.”

With a brisk nod, I attended to Mabel—my job—instead of watching him leave the kitchen.

ChapterSeventeen

Lars

Goingto the gym was the best idea I could have had.

Okay, unwrapping Adeline from her dad’s jersey was the best idea, but as I didn’t have that as an option, the gym was the next best thing.

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