I need to kiss her again.
Lilly was like fire in my hands this morning when I finally got to touch her. I’d thought about it all night and when I couldn’t take it anymore, when she gave me the greenlight, I wasn’t ready for the way it felt. Hot and slow. A low burning flame that licked at my veins and made me sweat everywhere her skin touched mine. It made me think of the rest of her skin, all of it, all of her under my hands. My mouth. My tongue.
She tasted like sex. The arduous kind. The kind you gotta work for, the kind that wears you out.
The good kind.
Great, I think glumly. Now I’m half-hard in the dark.
I have two options here. One will feel weird with the dog in the room and the other could make matters worse. I’m willing to take that chance.
I dial Lilly’s number, waiting eagerly as it rings. And rings. And keeps right on ringing. I’m waiting for the voicemail to kick in, debating whether or not I’ll leave a message, when she answers.
“Hello?” she mumbles groggily.
Fuck me, I think painfully. Her voice. Her sleep slurred, husky voice is almost too much. It makes me wonder if I made a mistake calling her.
“Hey,” I reply, feeling like I’m fumbling. “Were you asleep?”
“Mm-hmm. You should be too.”
“I can’t. I tried.”
“So you called me to make sure I couldn’t either? That’s so sweet.”
“I called to beg you to talk to me.”
She yawns. “What about?”
“The baking time for a soufflé? I don’t care. Anything.”
“Twenty-five minutes.”
“I didn’t know that. Can I ask you something else?”
“Sure.”
“What the hell is a soufflé?”
Lilly chuckles quietly. “It’s a French egg dish.”
“Is it sweet or savory?”
“It can be both.”
“Will you make it for me?”
“Not right now,” she laughs.
I smile into the dark. “My party is tomorrow. Can you make it?”
“The soufflé or the party?”
“Party.”
“No.”
“Really?”
“No.”
“Are we playing this one again? The tell-Colt-no-to-everything game?”
“No,” she teases, her voice quivering with quiet laughter.
“Will you come to my party?” I push gently.
“Rona wants to go, so yes. I will be there.”
“Only because Rona wants to go?” I prod.
“Yep. It’s my only reason. See you then.”
“You’re leaving me? In my hour of need, you’re ditching me?”
She groans dramatically. “I thought you were nice. Why are you being mean to me?”
“Because you were mean to me first. Besides, I like talking to you,” I answer honestly. “Will you stay on the phone with me?”
“You’re asking but it doesn’t feel like I have much of a choice.”
“You could hang up. Are you going to hang up on me, Hendricks?”
She grunts faintly. I can hear the sound of cloth rubbing across the phone. Probably a blanket brushing it as she shifts in her bed. I imagine her brown hair splayed across a purple pillow, a blanket pulled up close around her neck. Her eyes hooded. Sleepy. Sexy. Her lips that perfect pink color that’s either lip gloss or life granting her an unfair advantage. I imagine them pursed. Swollen from kisses I can’t stop giving her, taking from her.
“The store was busy again today,” she tells me quietly, giving in. “Tons of people came in this morning saying they saw you on ESPN talking about us. We sold out of your footballs.”
“I knew you would. People love my balls.”
“I never said I wouldn’t hang up,” she warns me, but she’s smiling. I can hear it from here.
I chuckle, settling deeper under my comforter. “What are we making tomorrow morning?”
“I can’t pull another all-nighter like last night,” she warns me.
“We won’t. I have another early practice. You have to be at the store by four-thirty again, right?”
“Yes.”
“Meet me there at four.”
“Why would I want to go in any earlier than I have to?”
“Because you want to see me. You want to spend time with me.” I drop my voice low. “Because you want to eat with me again.”
“You’re making some wild assumptions here.”
“Tiramisu, Lilly. You know you want it.”
“Remember how I said it’s slow?”
“Did I go fast this morning?”
“No,” she admits softly. Fondly. “You went very, very slow.”
“And you liked it.”
“Assumptions,” she pronounces carefully.
I grin. “I’ll see you at four?”
Lilly sighs light and smiling. “Yeah. I’ll see you there at four.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
LILLY
November 14h
Mad Batter Bakery
Los Angeles, CA