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Those Three Little Words (The Vancouver Agitators, #2)(77)

Author:Meghan Quinn

Penny: Sad, could have been a lovely gift.

Eli: You are so strange. I don’t know which one of your many personalities is going to show up.

Penny: So you’re saying it’s been a fun roller coaster so far?

Eli: Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. Shy at first, then a fucking fire in bed, then shy and extremely awkward, then teasing, then angry, now fun and charming. Anything else I need to worry about?

Penny: Nope, I think that just about covers it, but I suggest you don’t sleep on a new side of me. You never know what might appear.

Eli: Got it. Okay, see you tonight, or in the morning. I’ll try not to wake you up when I get in.

Penny: Don’t worry about it. Good luck tonight. Bruise someone’s ribs.

Eli: Haha. I’ll try.

Penny: Oh and Eli? I am excited to see you tonight.

Eli: Ditto.

Chapter Seventeen

PENNY

The front door clicks shut, followed by the sound of the lock being put into place. I glance over at my nightstand clock and see that it’s nearly one.

I’ve drifted in and out of sleep for the past few hours but woke up the moment I heard the front door open. The boys won tonight, bringing them that much closer to a spot in the playoffs. Unfortunately, with how rough their second half of the season has been, they’re not going to win the division, but they’re a possible shoo-in for the wild card. I’m sure it’s not their preferred way to make it to the playoffs, but at least there’s a chance.

Eli’s feet shuffle down the hallway, and he slowly opens the door, peeking in.

“Hey,” I say so he doesn’t think he has to be super quiet.

“You’re up. It’s late, Penny.”

“I’ve been in and out of sleep.” I press my hand to my chest. “Been dealing with some serious heartburn lately.”

“Really? You said everything was good,” he says in a concerned voice as he comes over to my side of the bed and takes a seat.

“It’s heartburn, Eli. It’s not like I’m bleeding from the ears.”

“Well, do you need anything?” He glances behind me. “I read about how heartburn can hit you hard in the first trimester and leading into the second. You should be propping yourself up on pillows. Also, do you have any yogurt? That might help. Or some sugar-free gum. Want me to go grab you some? There’s a convenience store around the corner that’s still open. I can run to it if you want.”

I place my hand on his arm and shake my head. “No, that’s okay, really. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, but thank you. You must be tired.”

He pulls on the back of his neck. “Adrenaline’s still kicking me. It was a battle tonight.”

“I saw that. Congrats on the win. You’re a clear favorite to win the wild card.”

“Three more games and we’ll find out.” He lets out a deep breath. “It’s been a fucking year. I know I shouldn’t be saying this, but I’m ready for it to be over. I kind of wish we could just win the cup now and then go up to Banff. I could use the relaxation.”

“You have quite a journey to win the cup. Have you forgotten the two-month-long process of the playoffs?”

“Don’t remind me,” he groans. “We have a long way to go, but it will be worth it.” He lifts his duffel bag on the bed and says, “Now that you’re awake, do you want your gift?”

“Uh, obviously.”

He chuckles. “Okay and remember, not quite rabbit turd, but not much better.”

“Expectations are at an all-time low.” I hold my hands out in front of me.

He unzips his bag, reaches in, and then places something in my hands. When I look down, I see a candy bar, but not just any candy bar, a Snickers bar, limited edition cinnamon bun flavor.

“I have no idea if it’s good, but when I was getting myself a Gatorade in the hotel gift shop, I saw it and thought you had to try it. I truly hope it’s good.”

“This was so thoughtful,” I say as I lean forward and wrap my arms around him. One of his arms goes to my back, and when I give him a squeeze, he does the same. It’s brief, and there’s absolutely nothing romantic to the hug, but for that moment, when the palm of his hand is stretched out over my back, and his fresh soap scent is flooding my space, I have this pang of awareness. The same type of awareness I had when I first saw him at the bar on his birthday. This masculine, charming, amazingly smelling man is talking to me. Well, not just talking to me anymore, but giving me gifts because when he saw it, he thought of me.

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