Page 70 of Scoring the Player
I tuck my knees in as I scoot next to him. “Sounds…fun.”
“You do anything similar with your family?”
I stare at the ceiling of sheets. It’s cozy, like the closet in my room that I used to chill in. I usually crank up my thoughts until they’re buzzing behind my ears and drowning out the person sharing their warm and fuzzy childhood memories. Not this time. And I don’t think the tightness starting to fade in my chest is from envy.
“Blue?”
“Huh?”
“You and your family do anything similar?”
“Water fights in the house?” I scoff. “And ruin my mom’s expensive art? Nah.”
“Hm. She was strict?”
His stomach growls again.
“Let’s take care of that.”
“I can come,” he offers.
“Enjoy the fort.” I crawl out. “I’ll be right back.”
“It’s me,”I say a few minutes later when I enter and find him lying on his back with his arm under his head.
I hold out a platter of hors d’oeuvres.
His eyes widen. “Whoa.”
“Under my arms,” I say.
He folds up to catch the two bottles of water.
I spread out the mac and cheese balls, crab puffs, skewers…and a mushroom-looking thing.
“Sheesh. You raided the kitchen.”
“Chef’s samplerthe caterer called it. These are the vegan ones.” I point to the mac and cheese balls separated from the other food.
There’s a knock at the door.
I roll back to a stand and pluck my wallet out. “Be right back.”
“Thanks, man,” I say to the server, trading the cash for a tray of desserts and champagne.
“Seriously?” Salem asks when I return with the tray.
I shrug. “You were hungry.”
As I lean down, he reaches over and kisses me in a way that I feel in my toes.
I groan. “You can’t look like that, bake me a Wolf cake, annihilate men on the court, be packing a big, pierced dick, and kiss me like that.”
He grins. “Why not?”
Salem
“Is it weird if I ask about Lucien?” he asks.
