Knot So Lucky (Destination Love, #1)(65)
My eyes pop open, my head shifting on my pillow and falling to the side. Eleanor’s lying on her back, sleeping soundly. Of course she is. I fucked her into straight-up REM sleep.
I was a man possessed because I wanted it to be just me and her. And from now on, it’s only going to be me and her.
Me and her. Everything about that is a bad idea…just like it was this morning. Dammit, I made a plan, and I need to stick to it.
Hands off, Crew. Don’t fucking do what’s in your head right now.
But I already know I’ve lost that fight because I’m already rolling over, hooking my arm between her legs, and grabbing a handful of ass before I drag her over to my side.
“C’mere,” I growl, draping her body over mine as I run my hand down the back of her thigh before wrapping it around her rib cage.
She moans, cuddling closer to me as I press a kiss to her shoulder, our bodies flush as she hugs me just as tight.
Tomorrow…I’ll follow my game plan tomorrow.
Tonight, I want her right where she is.
twenty-nine
“No wife of mine. Not even a fake one.”
eleanor
It’s so early that the birds aren’t even awake yet. Then again, even if they were, I wouldn’t hear them from the penthouse. I pad out mid-yawn, feet halted as my eyebrows raise in surprise.
“What are you doing here? I thought you’d be at practice already.”
Crew is standing at the counter in only boxer briefs, with a piece of toast half hanging out of his mouth, holding two cups of coffee.
Oh damn, between his disheveled hair and all that muscle on display, I have to blink a few times to refocus. It doesn’t matter how many times I see his body, those veiny forearms and the six-pack with the perfectly sculpted v always make me horny. I just want to lick him and objectify him all day.
He mumbles something, then motions his head toward the windows, drawing my eyes in that direction. Sweet baby Jesus, it’s raining.
I didn’t notice when I first woke up and walked out here, but the sky is dark gray, littered with angry clouds, and the rain is coming down so hard that it’s making those slash marks against the glass.
“No school. Rain day,” he mumbles around the toast before I hear a crunch.
I smile, sauntering over to the counter and leaning forward with my forearms pressed against the cool marble before I take my coffee from his hand, feeling playful.
“Look at you. All the other little QBs have to go to class and work hard today.” I crane my neck to look at what he’s wearing. “And you get to hang out in your underwear all day.”
I take a swig of my coffee before pretending I have a microphone in my hand as I hold my fist up to Crew’s mouth.
“Tell us, Crew Matthews. What’s it like to be God’s favorite?”
He laughs, shoving my hand away before finishing off his toast with a giant bite. I chuckle as everything he says is mumbled through his mouthful.
“There are flash flood warnings throughout the entire city, so we’re pretty much stuck here for the day.”
I look out the windows again as lightning brightens the sky, followed by a clap of thunder. My brows raise as I turn back to his grinning face.
“Did you plan that?”
His shoulders shake. “Obviously. I score touchdowns and manipulate the weather. I had it written into my contract, actually.”
God, I have a weakness for Crew like this—half naked and charming. But it’s fine. I’m on vacation. He’s just my Italy.
“Well then,” I breathe out, moving past my thoughts as my palms smack the counter, raising me back to my full height. “There’s only one acceptable solution for rainy day boredom.”
The look on his face is wary at best. Which is funny because that pretty much confirms that he knows me well.
“And that is?”
I shake my hips, doing a little dance.
“Duh. Spa day.”
crew
“Is this going to burn my face?” I grimace, sticking my finger in the bowl before wiping it off.
She’s laughing, but I’m fucking serious.
The moment she’d said “spa day,” I thought she meant here at the hotel.
So when she ran to the phone and started ordering a bunch of random shit up from the concierge, I stupidly thought it was all just a bunch of snacks because it was, like, blueberries, strawberries, and yogurt.
But once it all arrived, she spent the next thirty minutes mushing it up and putting together all these concoctions while simultaneously talking about everything from reality television to whether I believe the conspiracy theories about Britney Spears.
And I’ve sat here, on this barstool, hanging on her every word before berating myself and trying to distract myself from how fucking cute she is. Honestly, that’s the best description of this week I could ever have.
That’s been exactly me since the night we cuddled like fucking koalas—warring with what I want and what I shouldn’t take. Because when I’d said to myself I’d follow the game plan tomorrow, it became ten days’ worth of them.
Her hair’s up on top of her head as she bops around the kitchen, taste testing what she swears will make my pores nonexistent. I didn’t even know they showed or weren’t supposed to.