“What?” Blakely shouts and then catches herself and leans forward. In a whisper, she repeats, “What?”
“Technically, we were both sleeping, but he still felt them up and had a huge hard-on, and I might have rubbed my ass against it and guided his hand down to my shorts.”
Blakely fans herself. “Seriously? Were you sleeping still?”
“Yes, and we both woke up before anything serious could have happened, but oh my God, Blakely, I’ve never wanted anything so bad in my entire life. He, of course, sprang out of bed and muttered some apologies before retreating to the shower.”
“Oh, he totally masturbated.”
“Yeah, I heard him when he came, and it was so fucking sexy. I, uh . . . I might have done the same.”
“Jay-sus. To be a fly on the wall in your apartment this morning.” She pours her dressing over her salad and then mixes it around with her fork. “What happened when he came out of the shower?”
“I took a shower, we both had a bagel, and then I came to work.”
“Did you talk about it?”
“Nothing other than more apologies.” I groan while I squeeze a lime over my salad. “It was as if he was totally humiliated that he even touched me. He could not have gotten out of bed faster.”
“Oh please, I bet you if he’d had his own way, he’d have finished what he started.”
I shake my head. “No, he doesn’t see me like that. I can tell. He’s very standoffish around me. Sure, he gives me hugs—”
“And sends you flowers and calls you every night and texts Winnie and me to check on you.”
“Because he’s concerned about the baby.”
“No, because he’s concerned about you. Why can’t you see that?”
“Because that’s not how we are. From the beginning, we said this was all going to be a friends thing. Sure, there’s attraction there, and of course, I couldn’t be hornier at the moment, thank you, hormones, but he doesn’t see it that way.” Doesn’t see me like that anymore.
Blakely just shrugs as she forks some salad into her mouth.
“What is that?” I ask. “What’s that shrug for?”
“I think there’s more to it.”
“I don’t think—”
There’s a knock on the door, and I call out, “Come in.”
The door parts open and Eli sticks his handsome face into my office. Freshly showered from his morning skate, his hair still looks wet, and he’s wearing a black long-sleeved Agitators shirt and black jogger capris. The man can more than pull off the look.
“Hey, am I interrupting?”
“Nope,” Blakely cheerily replies. “We were just talking about your rousing morning.”
Oh my God!
Eli’s eyes flash to mine, and I’m sure my expression resembles a deer in headlights as I look at my friend.
“Heard you got a good feel in.”
“Blakely,” I hiss at her. “Shut the hell up.”
She just laughs as I watch Eli’s face redden.
I don’t believe I’ve ever seen the man blush . . . ever, but there he is, standing in the doorway of my office, red cheeks and all. It is a sight to behold.
He clears his throat and says, “Yeah, kind of got lost in my sleep.”
“Find what you were looking for in Penny’s shirt?”
“I’m going to murder you,” I whisper to her before looking up at Eli. “Ignore her. She forgot what social decorum is.”
“My boys would probably do the same,” he says while scratching the side of his cheek. “And it’s true, I did find something in her shirt, a hard nipple.”
And that’s the Eli I know, right there, the one who can turn embarrassment into a joke.
“Ooo, a hard nipple.” Blakely pops the collar of her shirt out and looks down it. “Haven’t seen one of those in a while. Good for you on finding one.”
“Thank you.” Eli chuckles and then turns back to me. “Uh, dinner with your parents is tonight, right?”
“Only if you’re up to it. Seriously, you don’t—”
“I want to.” He smiles. “Just wanted to see if they had any allergies. I was going to make some lasagna. It’s the only thing I really know how to make.”
“Oh, you don’t have to make anything. I don’t want to put you out.”
“Would it be okay if I made something?” The vulnerability in his voice is so heavy, it nearly weighs me down right then and there. “I like your parents, Penny. And besides, I want to show them that I’m more than just a talented hockey player with a credit card.”