“So is this a typical weekend for you?”

Ivy’s seated at the large island in my kitchen, watching me prepare the salad for our dinner.

My gaze meets hers. “It can be. Depends, really.”

I wipe my hands on the dishtowel draped over my shoulder. Moving to the platter where two large pieces of grilled salmon lie on it, I carefully transfer one piece to each of our plates. “When it’s preseason or during training camp, things aren’t as intense.”

“When does training camp start?”

“At the end of the month.”

She rests her chin on her propped hand. “What does that entail?”

“It means my spare time is a bit limited. More team meetings, drills, and some preseason games. Once the season starts, things ramp up more. Our schedule’s set and my days will be accounted for—with the exception of Tuesdays since that’s our day off. I’ll travel with the team to away games and make some public appearances at a few fundraisers and whatnot.” I grab a glass from one cabinet and set it by her place setting. “Water okay? I’m sorry I don’t have more to choose from.”

“Water’s fine.”

I turn to open the refrigerator and snag two bottled waters. I uncap one and pour the contents into her glass. Ivy glances around my kitchen, as though she’s searching for something.

“You don’t have any beer or wine?”

My eyes rise to meet hers. “No, sorry.” I walk around and slide onto the chair beside her. Once settled, I add, “I don’t drink.”

Ivy studies me curiously. “You don’t drink?”

Slowly repeating myself, I say, “I don’t drink.”

She furrows her brow. “Ever?”

“That’s right.” I settle my gaze on her. “Just not my thing.”

“Huh.” She refocuses on the delicious salad topped with salmon.

Uneasy with her odd reaction, I ask, “Is that going to be a problem?”

“Not at all.” Ivy’s eyes meet mine, and if I didn’t know better, I’d swear she almost appears impressed.

“Dig in.” I reach for my fork only to be stopped by her hand reaching for my arm to stop me.

Confused, I look back at her in question. She merely winks and withdraws her hand to fold her hands together. “You’re supposed to lead us in Emilia’s form of grace before we eat.”

I laugh. “You want me to sing the rhyming prayer she learned at her preschool?”

She nods, her features alight with humor. “I do.”

I squint at her in challenge. “You have to sing it with me.”

Her eyes widen in what appears to be panic. “Oh, but I—”

I reach for her plate of food and start sliding it away from her. “So sad. No dinner for you then.”

“Okay!” she agrees hurriedly with a laugh.

After we practically butcher poor Emilia’s prayer song—with Ivy’s off-key voice accompanying mine—we dig into our food. While we talk over our dinner, I know I want more of this with her. Even though she doesn’t want anything to do with a relationship, I’m determined to change her mind.

God knows I’ve never backed down from a challenge before in my life.

* * *

“I really need to head home.”

“It’s late. You can just go home in the morning.” I don’t dare meet her eyes because I know she’ll see right through me. I can’t bear the idea of her leaving just yet.

“Becket.” She breathes my name with a sigh. “I’ve overstayed my welcome.”

“Nonsense.” I turn to look over at her. In the corner of my sectional couch, she looks as relaxed as I feel. She’s lying on her side, head propped on a pillow. “I would’ve let you know if you had.” I pause and tip my head to the side. “You should stay.” With a small smile, I add, “Daisy insists.”

“Oh, really?” Even in the light from my large flat-screen television, her amusement is evident. Yet I can also detect the signs of fatigue.

I drop my feet from where I’ve propped them on my coffee table and rise from the couch. “Let’s get you situated for the night, and you can experience my breakfast surprise in the morning.” Stepping over to her, I hold out my hand to help her up. When she smiles up at me sleepily and places her hand in mine, I guide her to stand.

Moments later, I’ve turned off the TV and lights, and I lead her upstairs. I flip the switch for the light in the bedroom Blue would occasionally use. I’d be lying if I said I don’t miss her being around as much, but I’m happy as hell for her and Knox.

“There’s an attached bathroom there.” I gesture toward the set of open doors off to the far side of the room. “Under the sink is a variety of soaps, shampoos, toothbrushes, and toothpaste. Should be everything you need. If not, just let me know.”

“Wow.” Ivy stares in the direction of the bathroom before setting her gaze on me. “So do you—”

“No.” I step forward and cradle her face in my hands. “I don’t normally have women stay here.” Dusting a soft kiss on her forehead, I let my hands drop and take a step back. “Good night, Ivy.” I place a hand on the doorknob. “See you in the morning.”

Carefully, I pull her bedroom door closed with a soft click.

* * *

The pulse of the water from the showerhead cascades over me as it rinses off the body wash. I brace my palms against the tile wall and attempt to redirect my thoughts from Ivy. Judging from the way my dick is throbbing between my legs—and hard as hell—I’m failing.

Shit. I’ll never get sleep if I don’t take care of this. Thank God our bedrooms are on opposite ends of the hall.

I pour some body wash in my palm and wrap my fingers around my length. With a long stroke first, I pump my cock slowly, imagining Ivy was here with me. On her knees, she’d take me in her mouth while those incredible blue eyes watch me. Taking me as deep as she could, she’d suck hard and use her tongue to toy with the head of my cock.

“Fuck.” I grit my teeth and brace one hand against the shower wall. I speed up my rhythm, pumping faster as I work my hard length. The telltale tingling starts, signaling my fast-approaching climax. My eyes fall closed, and I imagine if Ivy was here…

“Ivy,” I say through clenched teeth. “I’m close. If you don’t want me to—Fuck!”

She creates a firmer suction, indicating she wants me to empty my release in her mouth. But that’s not all. She reaches a hand between my legs to gently toy with my sack, running her fingers along the seam.

That’s what sends me over the edge. I pulse my release into the wet warmth of her mouth, and she accepts it all, sucking me dry.

Once I open my eyes, I stare down at the drain, waiting for my breathing to calm, my heartbeat thudding erratically in my chest.

Wait a minute…

Oh, shit. That’s not my heartbeat thudding.

That’s the sound of knocking on my bedroom door.