often had he had any of the guys over? Outside of Walters, he could only think of a few who were no longer on the team. And that’d been years ago.
It was definitely time to change that.
Chapter Twenty-One
Jacqui caught a movement from the corner of her eye and jerked up, hands freezing on the piano keys. Her pulse skipped then restarted with her released breath.
Henrik was home.
“Hey,” she said, as he set his bag down. Her breath was gone again as she took him in. His black suit was tailored to fit him perfectly. His shoulders appeared even broader in the jacket, the cut tapering around his waist. His hair was still damp, slicked back with a few pieces falling across his brow.
How was it possible he’d want a simple girl like her? Yet the heat in his eyes, the warm smile that curled his lips, said he did.
He dipped to brush a kiss on her lips, hand lingering on her neck, thumb stroking her jaw when he lifted away. “How was your night?”
She shrugged. “The usual.” Work was never that exciting, unless a handsome hockey player came through the door. Then look what happened. “Sorry about the loss.”
“It happens.” He motioned to the piano. “You can keep playing.”
“Do you want me to?” He enjoyed listening to her practice.
“Sure. I need to unpack.” He brushed one more stroke down her jaw. “Do you want something to drink?”
“No thanks.” She’d learned his routine by now. He preferred to decompress when he got home from a game. Unpack, get a sports drink, change his clothes. She picked up the song where she’d left off, finding the notes as he went back to grab his bag.
It was closing in on midnight before she stopped. She’d been picking through the ending on her senior recital, rearranging it over and over, still not satisfied. At least she had months before it had to be finished. Her eyes landed on the still-boxed keyboard he’d bought her weeks ago now. Over a month? Already?
Would it be that bad of her to unpack and use it? He obviously wasn’t going to return it.
She flexed her fingers, stretching the digits. Henrik was lying back on the couch, watching her. He’d changed into sweats and a T-shirt and based on his relaxed position—one arm folded behind his head, feet up and crossed—he’d been there a while.
She took care to close the lid on the grand piano and flicked off the light next to it before going to him. “Are you ready for bed?”
“I’m not very tired yet.”
She chuckled, holding out her hand. “That’s not what I asked.” That was another thing she’d learned. It was usually closer to one or two before he unwound enough to sleep.
His languid expression changed to a heated gaze when he took her hand and sat up. He stood, stopping long enough to capture her mouth in a deep kiss that left her dazed. “I’ll lock up.” He dropped one, two, three more kisses on her lips before pressing one to her forehead. “I liked what you were doing with the song.”
Her smile was instantaneous. “Thanks.”
She was beneath the sheets, teeth brushed and clothes off, when he entered the room. The bedside lamp cast a soft glow over him. He paused to study her before going into the bathroom. She liked this too, the knowledge of what was coming. It was familiar now. Comfortable in a way she’d never let herself think about, let alone experience.
Sex had always been about the moment. Ending things before they got to this point had been her MO.
And what if...
She swallowed back the persistent fear that was growing stronger the closer her appointment loomed. The pain in her stomach hadn’t faded. If anything, it was getting worse. It was too sharp and constant to brush off as simply nerves now.
Henrik stepped out of the bathroom and she forced her fears back. He wanted her here, in his life, and she wanted to be here. If she focused on that, the rest wasn’t so overwhelming.
He wore only his boxer briefs, which he stripped away before sliding beneath the blankets. His skin was chilled when he pulled her into his arms. She went willingly, lips parting before they met his. They’d stopped the pretense of clothes in bed weeks ago, and she reveled in his heat, in the soft tickle of his leg hair beneath her soles and the strength of his thighs. Of him.