“You’re making it hard for me to think of other men,” I say, putting my fork down and staring over our empty dishes at Hayden.

“Do you want to think about other men?” He leans forward, hands gripping the table.

“Not in the slightest.” I play with my fork on my plate, and look at Hayden through my eyelashes. “Can I be honest with you?”

“Always.” He relaxes into his chair, crossing his arms over his broad, expansive chest. There is a light patch of hair covering his thick pecs, trimmed short so you barely notice it’s there. It’s masculine, very appealing, incredibly sexy. His hair is ruffled from his peaceful slumber, and he’s been sporting a lazy smile ever since I appeared in the kitchen.

There is an easygoing, fun-loving air about him I find intoxicating. By now, I would have thrown caution to the wind and kissed the man, but with Hayden, it feels different. It feels okay to wait.

“Can I ask you a question first?”

“Sure.” He looks to the side and quickly says, “Maybe we can sit on the couch though?”

“I’d like that.” Standing, he takes my hand and guides me to the couch where he sits and pulls me down across his lap so my legs drape over his, and my back is against the arm of the couch. Gripping my knee, he soothes his thumb over the bone, back and forth.

“What’s your question?”

His touch is so gentle. It makes me feel cherished—worshipped—such a foreign feeling.

Fiddling with the end of my shirt, feeling a little weird without pants on, I ask, “Have you ever been in love?”

“In love?” He blows out a heavy sigh and rests his head on the back of the couch. “Nah, I don’t think so, not the kind of love that builds a foundation for the rest of your life. I feel like I’ve had puppy love, you know back in high school when you think you love someone, it’s new and exciting. But real love?” He shakes his head. “No. What about you?”

I press my lips together and shake my head as well. “No, I’ve never been in love, or a relationship for that matter.”

“You haven’t had a boyfriend before?”

“Nope.” I twist my hands in my lap as my forehead creases with concern. “I know it’s super early in whatever this is between us, but I thought I would let you know . . . I’ve never done this before, spent more time with a guy than one night.”

Realization hits him and when I think he’s about to grow angry, he surprises me and takes my hand in his, bringing it to his lips. “So you’ve never been on a date?”

“No, I’ve been on dates before, but second and third dates? Not so much, nor have I talked to a guy like I’ve talked to you.”

“Does that scare you?”

I nod and lean my head against his shoulder as he wraps his arm around me, pulling me in close. “You’re a professional hockey player, Hayden. You live in Philadelphia; you’re only here for a short amount of time; it feels ridiculous to even think about starting a relationship with you, let alone my first one, and who knows if you really want a relationship with me, I’m just . . . ugh, I’m getting ahead of myself.” I take a deep breath and say, “I guess I want to feel you out before I dive any deeper into this thing between us, because I’m already starting to feel things for you, and I’d like to nip it in the bud if you’re not feeling the same thing.” God, I sound like a rambling idiot. “No pressure or anything. It’s not an ultimatum, sorry if it sounded like one. Ugh, can you tell I’m not good at—”

“Stop.” Hayden pinches my chin with his thumb and index finger, bringing my eyes level with his. That smile, those eyes, his rumpled hair . . . it eases the tension building in my chest.

“Adalyn, I wouldn’t have made dinner and breakfast for you, or tracked you down through multiple hospitals if I wasn’t interested in you, if I didn’t feel the same thing you’re feeling. Believe me, I understand our lives are different, and when hockey season starts again, it’s going to be hard, but I’m not worried about that right now. What I want to focus on is getting to know you.”

“But what happens when you do have to go? Is it worth starting something?”

“To me it is.” He twists his fingers through my messy hair. “I want more of you. I’m not ready to say goodbye, are you?”

I take a second, weighing my options. This is all new to me, getting to know someone on a deeper level, not jumping into the physical right away, feeling like I’m swept up into another world. The big question is, do I want to dip my toes into the unknown with someone who’s bound to leave no matter what? Do I want to put myself out there with the huge possibility of getting hurt in the end?

“What’s wrong?” he asks, cupping my cheek. “Why do you have that worried look on your face?”

Knowing he will appreciate my honesty, I say, “I don’t want to get hurt, Hayden.”

He lets out a long breath and pulls me in closer, resting my cheek on his chest. He kisses the top of my head and strokes my shoulder with his thumb. “I would like to promise I’m not going to hurt you, but I can’t make that promise, because I don’t know what the future holds, but what I can promise is to try. To put in the effort. To make you laugh. To make you happy. To continually make that beautiful smile appear on your lips. That’s what I can do, and hopefully, everything else will fit into place if it’s meant to be.”

“So just like that, you’re going to jump in, feet first?”

He nods against my head. “Yeah, I’m jumping in. Care to join me?”

Biting on my bottom lip, I squeeze my eyes shut, my nerves twisting and turning in my stomach. Fuck, I don’t want to get hurt. Shit. Shit. Shit. I don’t want to get hurt. Not by him. Not by one of the sweetest guys I’ve ever met. Because I know. I know he’d never intentionally hurt me, which gives him a lot of power, yet it doesn’t make me powerless. He’s such a good man. Kind. Giving. But I don’t think I can survive being hurt by him.

Then again, I don’t think I can survive saying goodbye right now, either.

Shyly, I look up at him and say, “If I jump in, will you catch me?”

Playfully, a grin spreads across his lips, lighting up his entire face. “Don’t worry, I’ll catch you, Adalyn.”

Leaning against the door of my car, I play with the belt loops of Hayden’s jeans. After cleaning up breakfast, we joked and teased each other for a bit before he changed and offered me a set of shorts to wear home.

“What are you doing for the rest of the day?”

Gripping my hips, his large hands pressing me gently against my car, he says, “I have some errands to run, and then I promised Racer I’d help him out with something tonight.”

I can feel my disappointment take over me, my smile melting away. I was hoping I’d be able to hang out with Hayden tonight.

“Yeah? Sounds like fun,” I say, faking my excitement for him. Stupid Racer, what could he possibly want help with and why can’t he ask Tucker or Aaron?

Chuckling and rubbing his thumbs over my hipbone, he says, “Tell me how you really feel.”

Tilting my head to the side, I level with him. “You really want to know?”

“I really do.”

I give his belt loops a few tugs before answering, loving how with each tug he leans in closer. “I was kind of hoping we could hang out tonight, since it’s my night off.”

“Is that right?” His smile is contagious but also cocky.

“You don’t have to look so pleased with yourself.”

“It’s just nice to know where your head’s at. I like a girl who is open and honest about her feelings, none of this having to read your mind bullshit.”

“Oh, you’re not a mind reader?” I tease him, poking his rock-hard stomach. And of course, he doesn’t flinch. God, the man has fantastic muscles. It was so hard to hold back groans of pleasure earlier when my hands were wandering. I wanted to spend hours there, touching, memorizing. Man, did I want to dip below his waistband.

“No.” He’s silent for a breath before cupping my cheek and stroking his thumb over my skin. I let out a heavy breath as he squeezes in closer, his body flush against mine, towering over me, those dark eyes of his turning more sinister. “Want me to cancel with Racer?”

There is no humor in his question, no empty ask, and from the look in his eyes, his stone-like features, he’s serious.

Sighing, I shake my head no. “Don’t cancel on Racer. I’m sure he called because it was important.”

“I don’t like this sad face on you though. Maybe I can hurry things along with Racer, catch a late dessert with you tonight?”

“I can make chocolate cake.”

A brilliant smile spreads across his lips. “You’d make me chocolate cake?”

“From a box, don’t get too excited.”

“It’s still cute and thoughtful.” Moving his other hand to my neck, he presses his thumb against my hammering pulse, his fingers tangling with my wild hair. Talking low, he asks, “Does that mean I’m coming to your place tonight?”

Wetting my lips, I try to keep my breathing even despite how erratic it feels, despite the close proximity of this man, despite how crazy in lust he makes me feel. “Yes, it does.”

“Should I bring an overnight bag with me?”

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

He licks his lips, and his eyes search mine. His mouth so close, his body so warm, and I take a moment to savor this moment. The tension between us palpable, the lust seeping into a pool of need between us. Our touches, anything but innocent, the desire in our eyes about to explode.

I want him . . . bad.

“Then I’ll see you tonight. Text me your address?”

“Of course.” I swallow hard as he passes his thumb over my cheek once more.

I can see it in his eyes, the indecision. Is this the moment he wants, the perfect timing for a kiss? God, what is he waiting for?

“It doesn’t have to be a big moment, you know. You can just kiss me.” My lungs feel heavy, my legs tingling with need, my hands shaking as they grip him, clinging desperately to him, not wanting any distance between us.

Leaning down, I hold my breath, my stomach flipping with somersaults just as his lips press against my . . . forehead. He lingers for a second before pulling away and stuffing his hands in his back pockets, his chest pulling at the threadbare shirt stretched across his thick muscles.

“I’ll see you tonight, Adalyn.” He winks and takes off toward the cottage, making me more sexually frustrated than I’ve ever been in my life.

Deflated, turned on, and irritated, I get in my car, start the engine, and stare out the front window. Is this what it’s like to be with a man who doesn’t want me only for my body? If so, it’s the most sexually frustrating . . . yet exhilarating thing I’ve ever experienced.

Now to get ready for tonight. I need to make it impossible for Hayden to NOT kiss me.

Damn it, I’m going to get that kiss tonight, and it all starts with a very thorough shower, shave, and then a much-needed shopping session.

“That dress is so hot on you,” Emma, my best friend, says as she flips through a magazine on my bed.

I look at my reflection in the mirror. “But do I want to wear a dress? Should I do something more casual? We’re just going to be here, would it be weird if I answer the door wearing a dress?”

Emma folds the magazine shut and leans forward, hands poised on her lap. “Let me ask you this. Are you doing your hair and makeup?”

“Of course, but I was going to go with a natural look with my makeup, not too much since it’s going to be late.”

Shrugging her shoulders and casually picking up the magazine again, she says, “If it were me, I would wear a dress and make it impossible for him not to stare at me. Works with Tucker every time, then again, he usually sees me in scrubs, so when I get dressed up, his eyes pop out of their sockets.”

“I don’t know.” I pull on the hem of the dress that reaches mid-thigh. “Maybe something more subtle. This is a little slutty.”

“Do the pink sundress. It’s more casual but still pretty and looks great against your tan skin. It’s going to pop, plus it gives you great cleavage.” Tossing the pink dress at me from the pile that’s formed on my bed, she says, “Put it on. Trust me, it’s the winner.”

Since there is no modesty between Emma and me, I take off the slutty-looking dress and put on the pink one. I adjust my bra in the cups of the dress and look in the mirror. Emma is right. It’s casual but pretty and gives me great lines.

“And if you wear your hair down in loose waves, add a touch of makeup, he’s going to be begging to kiss you.”

Before we started trying on dresses, I filled Emma in on my little kissing problem with Hayden. To say she was giddy over our budding relationship is an understatement. It took her at least five minutes to stop squealing over everything I said, and now that she’s calmed down, she’s bound and determined to help me get that kiss.

“He’s different than any guy I’ve ever been with. I could answer the door naked, and I’m pretty sure he still wouldn’t kiss me. I can tell he’s physically attracted to me, that doesn’t go unnoticed, but I’m shocked by his restraint. For some reason, I thought athletes were horn dogs, you know, all that adrenaline and masculinity pumping through them.”

“I think Hayden is exactly what you need.” Emma peers at me, true honesty in her eyes, the kind of honesty only a best friend can give. “Ever since I met you, you’ve been one and done with men, never really continuing past a first date.”

“Because none of them were worth it.” I shrug casually.

“Or maybe because you didn’t care enough to give the guys a second chance. But Hayden is different. I can tell you really do care about him.”

I fiddle with the right strap of my dress, adjusting the length. Up and down, up and down. “Maybe it’s because he’s one of the first guys ever to treat me the way my brothers always said I should be treated.”

Realization hits me as the words come out of my mouth.

It’s true.

From as early as I can remember, my brothers have told me countless times how I need to be treated like a lady, how the guy I date needs to be open and honest. How he needs to respect me not only for my body but for my mind too.

Hayden is physically attracted to me, yes, but when I’ve given him the opportunity to push further, he hasn’t taken it. And when he speaks of my job, of my education, he’s in awe, like I have the hardest job he’s ever heard of. It makes me feel . . . valued.

He makes me feel accomplished.

He makes me feel like I’m more than a pair of legs, like I’m a good human being.

And that’s what my brothers want, for me to be appreciated for who I am. Not only what I look like.

“I think you’re right.” Emma gets up from my bed and stands behind me, both hands on my shoulders. She looks into the mirror, staring at my reflection. “He’s a good guy, Addie. I’m really happy for you.”

But . . .

“He’s not here forever.”

She squeezes my shoulder. “If it’s meant to be, you’ll work it out, but for now enjoy yourself, enjoy him.”

“I don’t want to get hurt.”

“I don’t want that either, so take one step at a time. If he’s smart enough, he’ll know that when it’s time to go back to Philly, he’ll make whatever is going on between you two work.”

“You think so?” I bite on my lip, feeling so unsure.

Emma gives me a get real look. “Adalyn, he’s one of the few high-profile hockey players out there we rarely hear about. He’s not in the tabloids with women hanging off him at every event. And you’ve figured out by now that Racer, as much as he is a lunatic at times, he’s good people. And by association, Hayden is too. I mean, he went around to hospitals in the area looking for you. That was so damn sweet. And, I’m pretty sure it means he’s going to put in the effort where you’re concerned.” She presses her fingers into my brow, dissolving the tension in my forehead. “Now stop worrying. You have a cake to make.”

Shit, I do. And it has to be perfect.

Like how Hayden seems to be. Perfect.