Tripping (Iced #2) - Kristine Allen Page 0,45

escaped me as his kiss brushed along my lips. A few teasing open-mouthed kisses that ended in a nibble or gentle suck alternately on my lower and upper lip.

“God, I missed you,” he said. The words blew over my damp lips, and I wanted another kiss. Keeping it chaste, I stole one more, but forced myself to step back. If I didn’t, the food might burn, because we wouldn’t be thinking about it for a second.

“I missed you too,” I admitted with a shy smile. Not sure if it was my reply or my smile that had his flashing brilliantly, but he was breathtakingly handsome. “Let’s eat.”

He motioned for me to go ahead of him and followed me through my small house that seemed tinier with his big self filling it.

“Wine? Water? Milk? Or Beer?” I asked him.

“Water, please.” His voice right over my shoulder sent shivers down my spine. “But I can get it. What do you want?”

“Same,” I breathlessly replied. Every inch of my body yearned for him to come closer. The thing was, he could wrap himself completely around me and it wouldn’t be close enough.

He moved away, and an uneasy ache crept up my spine at the loss of his body heat.

We talked about the road trip as I dished up the baked goulash I’d made. It wasn’t fancy, but it was a family favorite.

Once we were seated at my small table, I glanced up at him from my plate. “So um, Crimson ratted me out.”

Chewing slowly, he cocked a brow. A small sip of water followed to wash down his food, then he folded his hands and rested his chin on his laced fingers. “About?”

“Us. That we’re, uh….” I trailed off, unsure of why I was afraid to label us.

“Fucking?” he asked, and my mouth fell open. He chuckled. “Kidding. That we’re dating? That you’re my girlfriend? What?”

“Yeah, that,” I said as my face heated.

“Is that too juvenile? Calling us boyfriend and girlfriend?” he teased. His bright eyes twinkled, and the corner of his mouth kicked up.

After shaking my head, I cleared my throat and took a large drink of my water. Then I set it down and twirled my fork nervously.

“My, uh, family wants to meet you,” I finally blurted out. We were still so new, I wasn’t sure how he’d feel about meeting the entire family. He’d met my siblings, but that was different.

“Okay, cool. When?” he easily replied and resumed eating. As if it happened every day of his life. It made me wonder how many parents he’d met. Jealousy hit the pit of my stomach. Just because I hadn’t found anything online about past serious girlfriends, didn’t mean he wasn’t simply an incredibly private person.

“You’re okay with that?” Incredulous, I stared at him. My food was growing cold, but I didn’t care.

“Why wouldn’t I be? You’ve already met my family,” he said with a smirk. His hair was now at a stage where it was slightly wild. His broad shoulders and large frame made my home seem miniscule. Like a dollhouse to a giant.

“My family has dinner every Sunday, but we can do it next weekend instead of this one.” Procrastination seemed a good option, because him meeting my crazy family made me nervous as hell.

“Can’t. This is the only Sunday I’m off for the next three Sundays. Next weekend is an away weekend.” It was Wednesday night. He’d had a three-game road trip and had gotten home that morning. He’d gone right into an afternoon skate and then had come over after he was done and I was home from school.

I knew he had a home game Friday night, as Crimson and I were going. Then he had a game in Seattle Saturday, and he’d be home Sunday. Anything after that, I wasn’t one-hundred percent sure. I knew I should be, but I hadn’t gotten around to marking it down yet.

“Well, then Sunday it is. I mean if you’re sure you won’t be too tired after flying home Sunday morning.”

“I’ll book a late flight in Saturday night after the game if I have to and crash with you,” he said, as if booking a last-minute flight from Seattle was no big deal. That was expensive, and I knew it.

“Won’t that be insanely expensive? It’s only a few days away.”

Again, he shrugged like it was nothing. “Maybe five hundred max.”

My eyes bugged. “Fi-five hundred?”

Jesus, my car payment was less than that. In the grand scheme of things, it was probably not