Page 115 of The Game
I breathe him in, dragging my hands under his shirt, feeling his muscles.
He grabs my ass, his tongue twisting with mine.
“We really shouldn’t be doing this. And I actually need to talk to you about something,” I tell him.
We’re usually good at keeping our hands off each other at the arena. Not going into private rooms usually works just fine.
Alexander sits back on the table, his hands resting around me.
“Okay, tell me, baby.”
I describe the job offer the guys gave me. How they’ve already talked to Henry, drawn up an offer and contract for me to revise, and how they want me to become a permanent part of their family here at the rink.
Alexander kisses me again, hard and passionately.
“That’s perfect, baby. If you want to, of course.”
I exhale. I knew deep down he would be happy. Alexander would probably hire me himself to keep me close, but he also knows I would never want that.
Independence is essential to me, and he respects it.
I’ve been thinking about the time after the internship, worried I might not have a job close by.
This opportunity lessens my worries, knowing I’ll be able to stay on the team.
“Yeah, I’d love to stay here,” I murmur against his lips, rubbing my nose lightly across his.
Alexander tightens his hold on me and gazes into my eyes.
“Then, I have something I’d like to discuss with you as well,” he says.
I wait for him to continue, curiosity gnawing in my mind.
“Would you like to move in with me?”
I practically live at his place already.
I’ve considered it home for quite some time. Each time I visit my dorm, the space feels like an old chapter in my life.
Ever since we got together, I’ve slept at his place.
The changes happened gradually, and I love how Alexander has slowly turned his home into our home.
It started with the code to his elevator and my own parking spot in the garage.
Sometimes, I would get back from work, and he’d unpack my latest bags from my dorm, putting away my clothes in his walk-in closet.
Eventually, half of it was filled with my stuff.
Same in the bathroom.
My romance books were suddenly filling up the bookcase in his office.
When I spotted my painting of the lilies in the living room, I shed a few tears.
He had snatched it up and put it in his jacket on one of our many trips to get my stuff.
He said he had plenty of practice, bringing my books with him since the first time we went there, early on in our relationship.
