Page 323 of Breaking the Pucking Rules
“Spend Thanksgiving evening with me,” I blurt, needing to do something to put a smile back on her face.
She stills before looking over. “W-what?”
“After you’re done at your dad’s, and once Sutton is in bed, will you come to me and spend the night with me?” I don’t know where the question comes from. I hadn’t thought about it before now, but spending Thanksgiving without her doesn’t sit right with me. Aside from Sutton and Mom, she’s the person I’m most thankful to have in my life right now.
The widest, brightest smile spreads across her face and I love that just for a moment, I allow her relief from the sadness of spending another holiday without her mom.
“Yes,” she blurts. “I’d love to.”
My chest compresses with relief.
“Really?”
“Yes, Kodie. Really.”
“Okay. Good.”
“I’ll make sure Mom makes herself scarce.”
“Oh god,” Casey laughs. “She’ll be in the pool house, right?”
“Yeah. Worried you’ll be too loud?” I tease.
“When it comes to you, anything is possible.”
Pride washes through me. I fucking love making my girl lose control.
“So, we’ll spend next Thursday night together,” she states. “What about between now and then?”
“Well,” I say, reaching out to drag her stool closer so she’s sitting between my parted thighs. “I was thinking that I could make you come as many times as possible.”
“Well, I was hoping that was a given.”
“Home game tomorrow and Monday, and I have every intention of you being there, leaving with you, and then making you scream while wearing my jersey. Then we leave Tuesday afternoon for a road game on Wednesday night, which we’ll win, and I’ll get a sexy little photo again.”
“You’re really rating your skills, huh?”
“Don’t even pretend that you don’t know my stats better than I do.”
Casey’s cheeks brighten at that comment.
“What?” I ask, sensing there’s something she’s not telling me.
“I have notebooks with your stats in them,” she confesses.
My eyes widen.
“Seriously?”
“Yep. And maybe a scrapbook or two with trimmings and photos.” Her entire face glows now, and she quickly tries hiding it in her hands.
“Casey,” I whisper, pulling her hands from her face. She looks up at me through her lashes, utterly mortified that she’s told me.
“I’m sorry. That’s really creepy. You can leave now if you want. I promise I’ll stop stalking you.”
My chest shakes with a laugh. As if it’s possible to walk away from her now.
“Can I see them?” I ask, intrigued.
