Page 22 of Attached At Heart
“Well, no. Not in the same room.” Thankfully, she brushed off the comment without another thought. Not surprising since I was sure that Delaney, for one, had never once thought about sleeping with me. “But you’reyou.”
“I’mme?”
“All pretty and annoyingly perfect.”
“I’ll take perfect, but never call me pretty ever again.”
“Annoyinglyperfect,” she clarified.
“Somany compliments today, Lane,” I mused, which caused Delaney to smack me in the chest.
Her hand lingered there, fingers drumming on the buttons of my dress shirt before she demanded, “Put me down, you annoying man.”
I nodded and tipped her feet toward the ground. Delaney dragged her fingers up my chest before wrapping her arms around my neck, holding on for balance as I released her. The result was her body slithering down mine as she found her way to the floor, and I gritted my teeth so hard that my jaw twinged with pain.
I should have immediately tossed her on the bed when we’d walked in so I wouldn’t have to endure whatever this torturous dismount was. It wouldn’t have been terribly out of character for us; harmless pranks were our sense of humor, and I was sure she would have just huffed with fake indignance and then laughed.
But as Delaney kept reminding me, I was a gentleman tonight.
Too bad the thoughts running through my mind at the feel of her curves pressed against me were not getting that fucking hint.
Jesus Christ.
Delaney seemed oblivious, looking around the room with an impressed expression. I swallowed a feeling of pride as she said, “No wonder you recoiled at the sight of my apartment. This place is nice, Blake.”
“Thanks.” I cleared my throat. “Feel free to have a look around. I’ll go get the rest of your things from the car.”
Delaney opened her mouth to protest, but I was gone before she could say anything.
I needed to get my fucking shit together, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to be able to do it while standing in a room with Delaney Delacroix and a bed. My head needed to be clear, nothing in it before I fell asleep. I didn’t need any dreams tonight. Not about Delaney. And certainly not about any of my other demons.
Moving to the coast, just miles away from the ocean, had brought back nightmares I hadn’t had for a long, long time. And the last thing I needed was for my best friend and future wife to know about their return.
“What’s with the emergency boxing date? It’s fucking early.”
Noah groaned as though he wasn’t a professional athlete who basically signed up for a lifetime of waking up early to work out. Although, now my younger brother was not just a professional athlete. He was also a dad to a newborn baby.
Which was exactly why we were here this morning.
Well, sorta.
I slipped my hand into my glove and pulled the wrist strap tight until it was exactly right. Then I gave it a little slap for extra measure and turned to the next glove.
“We’re here this early because I have patients later,” I replied, trying to hide that it also felt too early for me, considering how little sleep I got last night with Delaney staying down the hall. “Gemma said it would be good for you to get out of the house, and Gemma knows best.”
I’d needed to get out, too. I’d walked into the one bathroom in my apartment this morning to the overwhelming smell of Delaney’s perfume. Her soap. Her…everything.
Noah watched me warily, like he could sense there was something I wasn’t saying. His green eyes flicked from the boxing gym around us to the gloves on my fists.
“Gemma does know best,” he admitted. “Gemma will also kick your ass if you mess up my pretty face.”
“You should be more concerned about your hands than your face. Those are your moneymakers,” I chuckled, facing him once my gloves were both in place. “Don’t worry, we’ll skip sparring and stick to the bags. Focus more on footwork and agility.Wouldn’t want to fuck up your knuckles too bad before the season starts.”
Noah rolled his eyes, a bit of competitive spark in them. “Look, I know you’ve gotten all buff and shit lately, but you’re not made of goddamn rock. And I’m notfragile. I think my bones can handle giving you a few punches.”
“I know you’re not fragile,” I admitted. As much as I liked to give him shit, Noah had grit. He playedhardin every single one of his football games. He’d built a legacy playing for the Knights the past seven seasons. “I’ve seen you get tackled more times than any quarterback really should. Any chance they drafted you some new offensive guards?”
“Nah,” Noah replied before picking up the gloves I pointed him toward. He cleared his throat and gave me a look. “What’s up with you today? You’re extra…I don’t even know how to describe it.”
