Page 42 of I Got You

“Maggie.” Shane’s sleepy morning voice breaks through the blackness, making me want to smile.

“Yeah?” I pray he didn’t notice my body tucked fully next to his. I pull the covers over my face as if he can see my embarrassment and hope I didn’t put my legs or arms over him.

“That can’t happen again.”

“Ok.” My face lights on fire. “I’m sorry.”

“Only one alarm. I will push you out of bed. I don’t know how many just went off, but I’m sure the space station heard all that.”

I breathe with relief that maybe he didn’t notice my little intrusion into his space annnndddd person. “I should’ve told you I sleep like the dead. It takes a lot to wake me up.”

“Clearly.” I sense amusement in his tone, and I like it.

I groan, sitting up. Warm. He’s so warm, which will make getting up even harder, and it was pure torture before. I sit for a minute, willing myself not to look in his direction even though I can’t see him.

A vision of him standing in the kitchen with those glasses flashes in front of me. Holy moly, people. How can a gorgeous man slip on a pair of horn-rimmed glasses and suddenly turn even hotter? He seriously looked like a larger, less pretty boy version of Superman.

I rub my face. I have to get up and quit thinking about my new, super sexy husband. I throw a hand over my mouth before bursting out hysterically. Am I dreaming? Is this real? Someone needs to smack me. How did this become my life?

“Maggie, do I need to literally push you?” Shane’s gruff voice breaks through my insanity.

I climb down, trying to feel my way through the darkness. My toe meets the leg of the bed. “Ow. Shit.” I stumble forward into the bathroom door, hitting my head on the frame. “Shit. Owwww.”

“Are you ok?” Shane sounds closer like he’s sitting up.

“No,” I grumble. “All my piles are gone, and now I’m walking blind.”

I hear his low chuckle, and I glare, rubbing my head although he can’t see it. “It’s not funny,” I mumble, closing the bathroom door.

I shower quickly, realizing I didn’t bring clothes with me. Great. Just great. I wrap the towel around me and open the door to a bright room. Shane is sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling a shirt over his head. I stand there trying to pretend I didn’t just see all the fabulous muscles now hidden under that soft white fabric that I’m pretty sure I felt up while sleeping. Damn it.

Shane stares back, and I see his eyes trace down my bare legs before moving back up. Ok. I grab panties and a bra from my dresser before darting into the closet and closing the door. I’m not bashful about my body. I wear leotards and tights, but something about Shane seeing me like this feels vulnerable. I quickly throw on jeans and a shirt, knowing I need a hot cup of coffee and a dose of confidence to face Shane and all his manliness.

I exit the closet, happy to find he’s left the room. After drying my hair and putting on a hint of makeup, I drag myself to the coffee pot. Shane is sitting at the island with his phone in his hand and a scowl on his face.

He sets his phone down as I turn around with a steaming cup of coffee.

“What’s up today?” he asks.

“Teddy and I need to get a gift for a birthday party, and I’m dropping him off before Hank’s game this afternoon. Then grocery pick up and home for dinner.” I cross the kitchen to grab the grocery list from the refrigerator and hand it to him. “Anything you want from the store, add to the list, and I’ll order it.”

He looks at the two-page list, probably wondering if it’s possible that we go through this much food in a week.

“You don’t have to buy my groceries.”

“There’s no reason for us both to go to the store. If you don’t mind eating whatever we’re having, just add what you want.”

He looks at me with those intense eyes. “Ok. I can drop Hank off on my way to practice if that helps. I should be done in time to make it to his game.”

“Great.” I hold a finger up. “Oh, hold on.” In the laundry room, I find the bag that holds the jerseys I had made for Hank’s game and return to the kitchen. “Here. I got you a jersey just in case you want to wear it. It’s a soccer jersey, so it can’t be too unbearable to wear someone else’s name and number.” I smile at him. “Don’t feel obligated. We just go all out when it comes to cheering each other on.”

“Thanks.” He looks at the blue jersey with the number five and Matthews written across the back. “I need to call my agent today and tell him about us.”

About us…that’s going to take some getting used to. “Ok. I should call my dad’s agent and give him a heads-up. Maybe they should coordinate. I’m certain when news of us getting married hits the stream, questions about my dad are going to fly.”

“Sure. If you give me his number, I’ll pass it on. I have no doubt Rob will have the press poised and ready for pics and an interview after the home opener next weekend. Will you be able to be there?”

“Of course.” Did he think we wouldn’t be there? I take a sip of coffee and hear my ring clink against the mug, which reminds me that I didn’t think to get Shane a ring. “I’m sorry I didn’t get you a ring.” I blurt the thing that’s on my mind. “Honestly, I didn’t think about it, but I’ll get one and.…”

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