Page 75 of Sweet Caroline
The awkward save sends the puck skittering sideways, bouncing back and forth across the center line. I lean forward, straining to make contact, but it’s just out of reach of my clumsy swipes. “Dang it. I can’t get it.”
I’m practically climbing the table when Miles leans forward, his longer limbs giving him the advantage. He easily reaches the puck and sends it whooshing right under my stomach and straight into my goal. I raise my head, mouth agape. “What? Rude!”
“Hey!” He holds up his hands, tongue pressed into his cheek. “I told you to protect your goal.”
I crawl back off the table, straightening my loose-fitting button-up shirt. “But I was in a compromising position!”
“Just how I like you.” He smirks. “Oh, and uh… Nice boobs.”
On reflex, I clutch my shirt to my chest. I shake my head, though I can’t help the way my cheeks heat at his words.Remembering last night, I raise an eyebrow, holding his gaze in challenge. “You better watch it,sir.”
His jaw clenches so hard, I wouldn’t be surprised if he cracked a tooth.
If he’s gonna say blatantly suggestive things to me, he’s gonna get a taste of his own medicine.
I can barely hear him over the din of the arcade, but I’m pretty sure I catch him muttering something that sounds an awful lot like “bratty fucking girl”.
Feeling satisfied, I toss the puck across the table. He traps it in place with his disc, giving me a long, heated look.
The rest of our game whips by in a haze of flirtation—punctuated by the occasional booty-shaking victory dance from Miles and eye roll from me. The score is tied at nine when Jude and Olena appear at the side of the table.
“Ooh, tie game!” she croons, wandering over to my end. “Come on, Caroline,” she lowers her voice to a comical growl, “finish him.”
I laugh, my amusement fading to something like a dazed appreciation when Miles pulls off his hat to smooth his hair before replacing it—the right way around this time. The few wisps stick out at his nape, reminding me of how it felt to run my fingers through it last night as he coaxed me over the edge time and time again—until I was shaking and spent, sure I couldn’t take more.God, he was right about that wholeso-good-you-think-you-might-diething. It was everything I never knew sex could be. He was incredible.Wewere incredible. And, as much as it was hands-down the best sex of my life—as foreign as it was for me to come that often and that hard—what truly shocked me was how comfortable it had been. How easily I’d welcomed the idea of falling asleep in his arms. Sure, I couldn’t exactly walk by that point, but there was something more than shaky legs keeping me in his bed.
I snap back to the present when I realize Olena’s talking to me. “Sorry, what? Zoned out there for a sec.”
“Oh, trust me, I get it.” She waves me off, then drops her voice to a volume only I can hear. “But if you’re gonna win this, you’ve gotta distracthimand not the other way around.”
“Yeah, but I don’t really know how.”
“I’d suggest unbuttoning your top, but that’s too obvious.” She twists her lips in thought. “Take down your hair?” Then, frowning to herself: “God, why am I such a horndog right now? I must be ovulating.”
“I guess I couldfrightenhim to distraction,” I muse, knowing my curly hair would probably look more like a lion’s mane than anything sexy if I took it down.
“What are you two yappin’ about over there?” Jude calls over, crossing his arms over his chest with a smirk. “You gonna finish this game or what?”
I cast a glance at Olena. “Guess I’ll have to win this the old-fashioned way: brute force.”
“Hell yes! For feminism!” Beaming, she holds out a hand and we bump fists. Then she winds back around the table to whisper something in Jude’s ear that makes him straighten and clear his throat.
I flick my gaze back to Miles, who’s watching me intently.
“Good to go?” He raises a brow.
“Yes, sir.” My tone is innocent enough that no one would catch the flirtation in my voice, but the way he breaks eye contact and blows out a long exhale tells me I hit my mark once again. I grin. Poking holes in his composure might be my new favorite thing.
Seconds later, when I sink the puck in his goal, he gives me a rueful look as Olena rushes over for a congratulatory high five.
“You hungry?” Jude wraps his arms around Olena’s waist from behind, kissing her temple.
“Ugh, yes,” she admits. “But I left my purse in the truck.”
“Here,” Jude says, digging out his wallet to hand her some cash. “Go grab something before you get hangry on me.”
“I’ll come with you.” Miles lifts his chin at Olena. “I didn’t eat enough dinner.”
“The two of you, man,” Jude says.
