Only One Touch (Only One #4) - Natasha Madison Page 0,51

like you.”

I laugh. “Well, if you are wondering, I like you, too,” I admit to him.

“There are so many things that I like about you,” he says, leaning in and kissing my lips. My hand comes out as I place my palm on his face. “But the thing I like most about you.”

“Oh,” I joke with him. “I know exactly what you like most about me.”

He laughs. “I do really like that, but what I was going to say.” He shakes his head. “Is that I don’t have to apologize for who I am.” I look at him, my eyebrows pinched together. “If I can’t call you, you aren’t going to hold a grudge. If I’m busy and can’t see you, you aren’t going to be pissed off.”

“I didn’t want to tell you this before,” I say. “But now that we’ve shared our like for each other.” Leaning in and kissing him. “I’m a great catch.”

“That you are.” He chuckles. “Now, finish eating so I can show you what else I like about you.” My head goes back, and I laugh hysterically, my robe falling open, and he takes the opportunity to slip his hand in. “Are you done eating?” he asks, and with his hands on me, the last thing I think about is eating.

“I brought you coffee.” I hear from the door the next morning while I run on the treadmill. I look at him dressed in his boxers and nothing else.

“You didn’t have to get up,” I say, slowly turning down the speed, coming down to a slight jog. “Did you sleep okay?” It’s the first time he’s slept over. It’s the first time I’ve ever had anyone sleep over at my house, unless they were family members.

“Your bed smells of flowers,” he says, sitting down on one of the chairs that I have in the gym area. “It smells like you.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” I ask, stopping the treadmill and getting off.

Grabbing the towel and wiping my face, “It’s a good thing.” He smiles at me and tilts his head back for a kiss. “How long did you sleep?”

“If you left me alone after round three, it would have been longer.” I kiss him. “I’ll sleep well tonight.”

“What time is your plane?” I ask, and he pulls me onto him. “I’m all sweaty,” I say.

“I like you sweaty,” he says, and I shake my head. “Let’s get in the shower.”

“One more for the road.” I laugh with him and he picks me up, carries me back to my bedroom, and we both get to work later than was scheduled.

He doesn’t call me that night but he does text me.

Nico: My bed smells like bleach.

I laugh and send him back a text.

Me: Better than wet socks

I think that he isn’t going to answer me back, but he shocks me by calling me on FaceTime. “A text and a FaceTime,” I joke with him. “I’m impressed, Mr. Edward.”

He laughs and I see that he’s lying in bed. “I missed your face,” he says. “How was your day?”

“Uneventful. Same old. Little bit of small fires here and there but it made the day go a bit faster,” I say. “The game was good.”

“We should have won,” he says. “But you can’t win them all.”

We talk for a bit longer and I hang up the phone and turn off the lights. I ignore the fact that I miss him. I ignore the fact that I didn’t ask when he is going to be home and when my phone rings the next day and I look down hoping it’s him, it’s then I know that I’m in it more than I can admit.

“Hello,” I say, seeing it’s Manning.

“Hey there,” he says and since he’s left Murielle he’s been happier than he has ever been. He’s been even friendlier with the reporters. “Busy?”

“For you,” I say to him. “Never.”

“Good,” he says. “Meet me in an hour.” I look at my watch.

“It’s five o’clock,” I say.

“I know, we just landed,” he says, and I lean back in my chair.

“The last time you asked me to meet you in an hour, your whole life exploded.”

“I can assure you there is nothing wrong,” he says, and I hear him honk his horn at something. “I’ll text you the address.”

“You owe me,” I say and get up to go home, changing out of my skirt. Instead, I put on tight black pants with a loose silk shirt. I’m walking out of