Her mouth dropped open. “Women ask you to sign their breasts?”

“More often than you’d think.” I sighed. “Anyway, once I signed my contract and started experiencing all this, I swore I’d never be with a fan and I’ve held true to that. But … I have … friends. Girl friends, women, who I’ve trusted over the years to hang out with, to … be with.” Kacie closed her eyes and cringed when I stumbled through that last sentence.

“They are just that, though … friends. I trust them not to run to the media with details, not to sell our story to one of those fucking gossip magazines. That’s who Kendall is … was.” I reached out and put my hand on hers. She still stared straight ahead, no emotion. Or so much emotion that she didn’t know how to process it all. Silence filled the empty space around us. I said nothing, giving her time to feel whatever it was she was feeling.

After what felt like an hour of her eyes darting around, thinking, I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Kacie, you okay?”

Her head cocked to the side, her eyes still fixated on the brick brownstone straight ahead. “I think I am.”

“You are?” I asked cautiously, not expecting that response.

“Yeah, I am.” Her gaze floated over to me, and her face looked peaceful. “I get it. You have such a public job, it’s gotta be hard to trust people with that side of you.”

“Exactly!” It took all of my restraint not to scoop her up in my arms and dance around the street with her for being so understanding.

“But … I can’t be a part of that,” she said, shaking her head slowly.

“Wait, what?” Anxiety spread through my chest like wildfire.

“Your past, I get it, completely. The fame, the women, not being able to trust anyone … it makes total sense. I don’t want that, though … that casual, friends-with-benefits thing. I know we said we were keeping this light and fun, but that’s a little too light for me.” She stood up and shoved her hands in her jean pockets. “I can’t let myself get any more attached to you, Brody. I think I’m gonna go.”

“No, you’re not.” I hopped up and gripped Kacie’s shoulders, forcing her to look at me. “I’m done with that, Kacie, all of it. When I stopped at your inn for the night, my life was normal—my life was hockey. Nothing important existed outside of the rink; it was all just filler. Then I met you, and now I can’t stop thinking about you. You did something to me, changed something. And now, all I want is you … just you. And the twinkies.”

She looked off across the street and shook her head slightly. “How do you know that, Brody? How do you know that this is what you want? How do I know that in a month, I’m not gonna be tossed aside like the others?”

“I could ask you the same question,” I replied.

“What?”

“You said yourself you haven’t dated in four years, but I know you’ve had offers, so I’m asking you the same question. Why me? What is it about me that makes you want to take a leap of faith?”

“I don’t know.” She searched my face. “There’s not one exact thing, it’s just … you.”

“That’s how I feel too, Kacie. It’s a million little things about you that pile up together and have created this one amazing woman who I’m certain has changed my life. I can’t explain it; it’s just there. We’re gonna have to learn to trust each other on this one.” I cupped her face with my hands and looked straight into her eyes. “This is one big puddle, for both of us.”

Her green eyes softened as she wrapped her arms around my waist, laying her head against my chest. I embraced back, resting my chin on her head.

“Life is a sum made up of small parts, Kacie. Some are good; some are bad. You and the girls are definitely one of the good. The best good there is and I’ll fight like hell to keep you here.”

I didn’t sleep a wink all night. Actually, all morning.

Brody and I stayed awake until the sun came up, curled up in each other’s arms on the couch, talking more about his past. Admittedly, I’d judged him when he told me how he’d been having relationships the past few years and I was wrong for that. I would never understand his situation because I’d never been a professional athlete with women chasing after me, but I could accept it. It wasn’t fair of me to hold how he’d been living against him, especially when we hadn’t even met yet.

He was so honest last night, so sincere, not to mention, irresistible. When he talked, the way his mouth moved, the way he licked his lips, the way his eyes brought whatever he said to life. Intoxicating.

He looked pretty damn cute when he slept too.

I rolled over and looked at him, stretched out on his stomach next to me, sound asleep with his arms pulled under his pillow. His firm back rose and fell with each breath, accentuating each muscle individually. I stared at his tattoo; it was vibrant and clear. I felt like it was glaring back at me, challenging me to doubt his sincerity and character.

It was never the plan for him to sleep in here with me, but after we were done talking in the wee hours of the morning, I’d gotten up to head to bed when he jumped in front of me and blocked the hallway.

“Listen,” he’d said, “after today, I know you’re exhausted and have a lot to process. I told you, I’m patient and I don’t want to push you into anything you’re not ready for, but … will you sleep with me tonight? Sleep, nothing else. I’m just not ready to let you go yet.” His eyes were forthright with no underlying meaning, hard to resist.

“Yes,” I replied, pointing down the hall, “in there.”

He didn’t argue, he just turned and walked toward the guest room while I followed.

Here we were, a few hours later and I hadn’t slept at all. I knew I’d pay for it later, but lying there, watching him just felt perfect. I studied every movement he made, the way his eyes fluttered while he slept, the way the corners of his mouth twitched into a slight grin when something in his dream pleased him.

Hopefully it was me.

I quietly snuck out of bed and tiptoed to the bathroom.

“Ugh,” I mumbled, looking at my appearance in the mirror. My hair was going a thousand different directions, my eyes were puffy from lack of sleep and my cheeks had no color.

I hope he likes zombies.

I tamed my hair into a low ponytail and did a quick mouthwash swish, thinking I’d creep into the kitchen and surprise him with breakfast in bed and hopefully get a kiss in return. My hand was on the bedroom doorknob when I heard him stir behind me.

“Sneaking out?”

He had flipped onto his back and was groaning as he stretched. His body was lean and long, every muscle contracting as he reached out far.

“Nope, I was gonna make you breakfast,” I responded, trying not to drool as I stared.

“Uh-uh, come here.” He lifted the corner of the blanket, insisting I climb back into bed. I didn’t argue.

Curling into his side, he tucked his bicep under my head and took my hand in his, resting it on his chest.

“How are you feeling today?” he asked, kissing the top of my head.

“I feel bad for judging you so hard last night, but I think I’m good. I think we’re good.” I rubbed my thumb back and forth across his chest.