Icing (Aces Hockey #1)(41)
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him. He laughed and held his hands up and out to his sides.
“Seriously. Sit.” He moved to her and pushed her to sitting on the bed, then knelt in front of her and slipped off her ballet flats. Pulling her to stand, he tugged on the covers of the unmade bed—the bed she’d helped mess up—and eased her down onto the mattress. “Want to take your jeans off?”
“I don’t want to have a nap.”
“You’re having a nap.”
“I never noticed this bossy tendency until this morning.” She burrowed into the covers and pillow.
“I’m not bossy.”
She snorted.
He picked up a remote control that lowered a screen over the floor-to-ceiling glass, darkening the room. The bed felt amazing. He had a huge bed and an awesome mattress that felt like a cloud. The sheets were silky and soft, the duvet cozy, and both smelled like fabric softener and Duncan.
Her eyelids drooped. The bed moved a little as his heavy weight joined her. Then he curled an arm around her middle and pulled her back against his front, and one big thigh covered her legs. His warmth enveloped her, and in the dim room and his arms, she was asleep in seconds.
She woke up to his fingertips on her cheek. She blinked, trying to separate the dream she’d been having from reality. Duncan…she stared at him. He was out of the bed, sitting beside her.
“Hey.” He pushed hair off her face. “You awake?”
“Mmm. Oh my God. What time is it?”
“Five.”
“Oh.” She blew out a breath. “I thought I was late for work.”
“Nuh-uh.” He caressed her jaw. “I remembered you work at six. I made you something to eat and then I’ll drive you to the Sin Bin.”
Softness expanded inside her. “Thank you.”
“Wish I could’ve let you sleep longer. You were really out.”
“I was.” She pushed up to sit. “Did you sleep?”
“Yeah. A little.”
“I need to use the bathroom.”
“You know where it is. Come on out when you’re ready.” He rose and left the room and she pushed back the covers to slide out of bed. God, she wanted to stay in that bed forever. Especially if Duncan was there with her.
What was she doing? This was mind-boggling.
She again admired the gorgeous bathroom as she used the facilities, then followed Duncan to his kitchen.
“Have a seat.” He slid a plate toward her. “Denver sandwich. Hope you don’t mind that.”
“It looks good.” She sat and stared at it for a moment. He’d made her a sandwich.
“I’m not much of a cook. I have a few specialties and this is one of them.”
She smiled and picked up one half of the sandwich. “What are the others?”
“Nachos. I make killer nachos. And grilled cheese sandwiches.”
He took a big bite of his own sandwich.
“This is good,” she said after finishing half the sandwich. “I was hungry.”
“I think you’re always hungry. I like that about you.”
She smiled and shook her head. “Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?”
“Being so nice to me. It’s freaking me out.”
“Nobody’s ever been nice to you?” His eyebrows rose.
“Well…” She thought about that. “Easton. He’s helped me a lot. But he’s busy with his own life. He doesn’t do…this.”
“I’m not doing anything.” Duncan frowned. “You were tired. You need to eat before you go to work. Whatever.” He shrugged.
She tucked her hair behind one ear, then picked up the other half of her sandwich. It was freaking her out and she wasn’t sure what to do about it.
—
“We’re not dating.”
Amber was doing a photo shoot Wednesday afternoon at Easton’s studio, and it was the first time she’d seen him since she’d stayed out all night Monday night. He changed out a lens on his camera while a stylist pinned the dress, where it was too loose on her at the back. The pointy-toed shoes she was wearing pinched her feet, which was usual since she had such freakin’ huge feet. They never had size ten shoes for her to wear.
“Just hooking up,” Easton said.
“Well. Yeah. He wants to hang out together more.”
“Friends, then.”
The stylist finished and said, “Friends with benefits?”
“Do we have to put a label on it?” Amber asked. “I don’t even know what it is. Anyway, he’s out of town until Sunday.”
The stylist stepped away.
“Smile, boo. Chin up.” The flash popped. “Turn to your right. Not that much.”