Page 129 of Coach
Then, slowly, those beautiful storm-gray eyes fluttered open, blinking blearily at me.
“Hey you.”
And just like that, my heart did another dangerous flip.
“Hey,” I whispered back.
He winced. “Why are you yelling?”
I grinned. “That was a whisper.”
“God, you yelled again.”
I leaned down and kissed his nose.
His eyes crossed trying to follow my motion, only making my grin widen.
“Hungry?” I asked.
He nodded. “And I need Advil, stat.”
“No cookies?”
His brow furrowed. “Cookies?”
“Never mind. I’ll get you some painkillers and get started on breakfast. If you want to shower, knock yourself out. I’m slow in the kitchen.” I pushed to get up, then paused. “I would offer you a shirt, but I don’t think anything I own was made in pup-tent size.”
His mouth twitched, like he was trying to grin but failed. “It’s okay. I don’t stink too bad.”
I leaned down, sniffed his shirt, and tried not to gag. The scent of cigarette smoke and alcohol was stronger on him than I remembered from the club.
“That bad?” he asked.
I nodded. “You might have to just go naked. I’m sensitive to smells.”
He gaped, then a grin formed. “You’re yanking my chain, aren’t you?”
“He’s not just hot; he’s bright, too.” I kissed his lips and hopped off the bed. “Breakfast in twenty. Take your time.”
“Coffee, please. Lots and lots of coffee.”
I chirped over my shoulder, “I’m Italian. It’s assumed.”
The bacon was on the table, a stack of pancakes almost done, and I was scrambling eggs, humming to myself, when arms wrapped around me from behind. I’d been so absorbed in whatever song was rattling through my head that I startled at his touch, nearly tossing eggs onto the counter.
He nuzzled my neck, burying his nose and kissing me, holding his lips to my skin for the longest moment. When he pulled back, he didn’t stop holding me, just stood there with his arms around my waist and his chest pressed close against my back as I cooked.
It was such a simple moment.
There were no flashing lights or rose petals falling from the ceiling. Doves didn’t fly out of anyone’s ass. And yet, for some mystical reason, that moment wormed its way deep inside me and curled around my heart.
I wanted this. I wanted him waking up next to me, holding me, kissing my neck as I scrambled eggs.
I wanted the simplicity of another man caring enough to make me feel special.
I wanted Shane.
God, I was turninginto—
