CHAPTER NINETEEN

N oah

My jaw drops, and my gaze bounces over him for longer than it should.

That was his cock.

I saw his cock.

His hard, large, throbbing, leaking...

"Noah?" Finn's voice is rough, and I halt my cock reverie.

My mouth dries, and I force my gaze upward. Finn's eyes are round, and he clutches his sheet to his waist. Pink stains his cheeks and spreads to his chest—muscular, of course, and I contemplate what the scattering of hair might feel like...

"Noah?" Finn repeats. He scrambles so he's sitting up on his bed. He rests his torso against the dark gray tufted velvet headboard.

Shit.

Finn was, self-caring, and I stormed in, and—oh, God. He must think I'm... What person walks in on something like that and stays?

"I'm sorry!" I stammer. "The housekeeper is here, and I didn't want her to see that I wasn't sleeping in the same room as you."

Finn's eyebrows shoot up. "Gabriella came into your room?"

"No. She was in the hallway. I, um, tried to explain that I was exploring the apartment and testing the bed..."

His mouth rounds. "Like Goldilocks?"

"That was the best I could come up with on short notice."

Finn chuckles.

"It's early." I glare.

"Dude, Gabriella doesn't speak English. She also doesn't clean the bedrooms on Thursdays."

My shoulders droop. "I should have stayed in my room."

"Yep." His eyes dance, then his face sobers. "But I didn't warn you. Sorry."

I wave a hand dismissively. "Too much apologizing. No more. And I..."

I glance in the general direction of his sheet, then force my gaze away, my skin heating. His naked cock is underneath. His hard, large, throbbing, leaking cock. I swallow hard. "I'll return to my room."

Finn sighs. "Is Gabriella still in the hallway?"

"Maybe?"

"You should wait here."

"Oh. Are you sure? You were..."

Finn's cheeks redden. "I'll survive."

"I could..."

His eyes round. For a moment, scenarios from porn flit through my mind.

I could offer him a hand.

Or a mouth.

Or we could lie side by side and practice self-care in front of each other.

But Finn is straight, and so am I. I shouldn't offer him either of those things. Yeah, he would think something is up. And not just his hard, large, throbbing, leaking cock .

My own cock rises.

I wonder how long his cock was. Was it seven inches? I think seven inches. Longer than one of those half foot rulers I used to carry around for years in my pencil bag, back when I needed to carry around a pencil bag for most of the day. And what was the width? Suddenly mathematics seems essential. It didn't look skinny. But it wasn't like it was so big you couldn't ever contemplate it going...there.

Okay, I probably shouldn't think about bending down for him. That thought is... Well, strictly thinking it's not unpleasant. It's...intriguing. But yeah, maybe I shouldn't think about it too much.

I don't want to see him in pain though. I don't want him to ache...there. And I don't want to destroy his morning.

"I could close my eyes," I suggest finally. "And maybe...hum?"

Finn's eyes widen, then he snorts. "Oh, God. No, let's not do that." He chuckles some more. "We could watch a movie?"

I blink. There's no TV in the room. Does he want to want to watch one in the living room? With Gabriella cleaning around us?

Finn scrambles to his nightstand and opens the drawer. I see a bottle of lube and jerk my gaze away. Finn removes a remote control and presses a button. Then he throws the lube in the drawer, and his cheeks are a ruddy shade.

This is not awkward. This is not awkward. This is not awkward.

Something rumbles behind me, and I turn my head. Then a large TV groans down.

"Nice."

Finn smiles. "Sit down."

I move toward the bed, then he frowns. "One moment."

I hesitate, half-expecting him to tell me to leave. Then he ducks his head beneath his sheet, and the sheet bounces up and down.

Finally, he stops squirming. "Sorry. Just thought I should put on boxers."

"Oh." My mouth dries, and the image of a nude Finn surges through my mind all over again. I sit abruptly on the bed, because obviously joining a half-naked Finn in the bed will make me stop thinking about him naked.

I swear my brain is normally less fuzzy when I'm not around Finn.

I inhale, then realize I'm smelling Finn's pre-cum.

"Why don't you choose?" Finn passes me the remote control, and something zings through me as our fingers brush together.

"Huh?"

"A movie?"

Right. I nod multiple times. "I've seen movies before. I—I can choose one. No problem."

His lips twitches, and my heart drops. "Excellent. I'm glad I'm with an expert then."

FINN

Noah and I watch something with action. Or at least, he watches, and I pretend to watch and that the five minutes before he entered the room didn't happen. I'd been thinking of him, and now here he is, beside me, on my fucking bed.

He's so close to me. I could totally lean in and kiss him. My heart thunders.

Fantasies are supposed to be fantastical though, right? I mean, most women don't want to sleep with vampires or dragon shifters or aliens, right? And I don't really want to sleep with Noah. Obviously.

The thought feels like a lie, and I try to focus on the movie. Sometimes I think I feel Noah's eyes on me, but when I look at him, his focus is on the screen.

He's in my imagination. But then, he's also my husband.

God, I can't believe we married. That's so wild.

I find myself smiling.

Noah's gaze rolls onto me. "Most people don't smile at this scene."

I glance at the screen at the scene and snort. Body parts are flying. "I promise I don't love violence."

"Good to know after the wedding."

My lips twitch, then I burst out laughing, and he joins me. We wriggle on the bed, relieving all the nervous tension that filled us after Vegas.

Finally, we head for the arena. Noah and I stop by my favorite juice shop on the way and grab green juices, then I drive us to Cambridge in my Mercedes EQS. The Nappa leather hugs us.

"I've, um, never been in such an incredible car," Noah says wide-eyed, staring at the long glass dashboard.

"What's your favorite color? "

"What?"

"Not a good question to know about my new husband?"

He stares at me. "Blue? But with gray in it."

I frown. "Oh, that's not a color most people say."

"I mean—red." For some reason, his cheeks go pink, even though it was a question about colors.

"You got it." I grin and flick on the LED lights, so they glow red around the edges of the car, flickering bright lights.

"Super cool."

"Wait until you see it at night. The dashboard looks awesome."

I slow as we near the glass structure. The Blizzards logo has never looked so intimidating, and I hope I'm not trembling or something.

"It won't be that strange," I promise.

"Yeah," Noah agrees.

Tension still moves through my body, and I might be trembling. I park the car in the underground lot.

The guard gives us a curious look when we enter together, because of course he knows we're married.

"Congratulations," he says, his voice gruff.

I flash my best blissful smile because we've got to sell this romance, then grab Noah's hand. His fingers link with mine. I'm used to female hands. I'm not used to a hand bigger than my own, solid and grounding. I don't mind it.

Noah and I stride through the corridors. Black-and-white photos of successful past Blizzards players line the corridor, illuminated by a golden glow.

I doubt my heroes lied to the team. My heart tenses, but this is fine. Totally fine .

Troy ducks his head out of the locker room, then grins. "It's the lovebirds!"

"Have we stepped into the fifties?" I grumble. "I thought goalies were supposed to be quiet and mysterious."

"Who says I'm not mysterious?" Troy's eyes dance. "You'll get used to him, Noah."

"It will be my life's pleasure," he says, and something about the way he says it, his voice earnest and happy, makes my heart pound.

I think about kissing his hand, but then realize that might be unnecessary. Guess I'm good at this acting thing.

I swing the locker room door open, still holding Noah's hand, then stop.

We're greeted by bright gold and silver balloons and streamers and the wide smiles of the team. Vinnie and Evan eye us in a bemused manner, but even they smile when we enter. A banner that says, "Just Married" drops down, and someone flicks on "Here Comes the Bride."

The music drums through the room.

"Surprise!" Troy yells, then he flings glitter and confetti at us. "The paper store didn't sell rice."

I try to get the glitter and confetti out of my hair. "You shouldn't have."

Troy laughs."Kiss!"

I blink. "Seriously?"

"Of course."

I stiffen, and Troy's bright smile fades. I sense the others looking at us more, and my mouth dries. I'm conscious of Evan and Vinnie staring at us.

"Maybe they don't want to," Vinnie says.

Oh, no.

"I, um, always want to kiss, Finn," Noah says, like the good sport he is.

"I mean, dude, the chemistry between you two is off the charts," Troy says finally. "Get some of it out of your system."

Some of the others laugh. I feel like they've exposed a secret. Like they've read all my secret thoughts. I stiffen. The guys can't really want us to kiss, even if they seem to be nodding and smiling and laughing.

I rake a hand through my hair, then slide my gaze toward Noah. He's looking at me wide-eyed. I've never noticed how long his lashes are before. Pink assaults his cheeks, and he bites his lower lip.

I remember what his lips tasted like when we kissed in the elliptical room in Los Angeles. I remember what his chest felt like pressed against mine. I remember the citrus scent of his skin.

"Um..." I don't like being uncertain. I know I'm a great skater. I know I'm great at hockey. I know I'm great at throwing parties. I know I'm great at making videos.

But this, this makes me uncertain.

I've already gotten Noah into this. Does he want to keep on kissing me? The guy saw my dick this morning. That was supposed to be the traumatizing event of the day. He doesn't need to also feel my tongue, also feel my lips.

But then Noah dips his head and murmurs into my ear, "Hollywood kiss?"

My skin tingles from where his lips almost touched my neck, then I remember to nod .

Noah sweeps his arm around my waist and dips me down.

Wolf whistles and applause erupts around us, and it occurs to me that if we were an actual couple, this would be amazing.

My team is the absolute best. These guys are incredible.

But when Noah brushes his lips against mine, the only thought I have is that he is absolutely, 100% wonderful.

"It appears the rumors are true," a deep voice says behind us over the whirr of the air conditioner.

Startled, Noah's grip on me loosens. I slide from his arms, then he grips me toward him in an awkward manner and sets me on my feet.

We both stare at the Blizzards' owner, and my jaw tenses.

Shit.