Duffy
Sunday evening was the cherry on top of the perfect week because I found myself sitting in Connor’s suite once again, this time as his actual girlfriend. Ellie came, too, along with my dad and brothers, and I felt absurdly happy, cheering for Connor with the people I loved.
It was a close game, so I spent a lot of time chewing on my nails and cursing the refs with my brothers, but it was as near to perfect as I could’ve ever imagined.
But the postgame activities with Connor were even better.
“You’re not leaving,” Connor grumbled into my ear hours later, when my phone alarm went off at three thirty. His toned arms wrapped around my body and he pulled me closer. “Text your dad or don’t, but I want to wake up with your head on my pillow.”
It wasn’t a confession of love, but the meaning behind it felt important.
I sent my dad a simple text—Too tired to drive, I’m crashingat Connor’s—and went back to sleep, wholly content in Connor’s arms.
As if everything wasn’t perfect enough, when I woke up in an empty bed and wandered out of his room and into the kitchen, there he was, making pancakes.
“Look at you,” I said, unable to hold back my grin because he looked so adorable. He looked capable in the kitchen, like he knew what he was doing, even though he was wearing boxer briefs and a faded old T-shirt.
“I remembered you saying you were a fiend for pancakes,” he said, flipping a flapjack.
“So thoughtful,” I replied, walking over and leaning against the counter in front of him. “Maybe I should start talking about things that I likeallthe time.”
“You think I don’t already know what you like?” he said in a voice that sent a little shiver down my spine, the intensity of his blue eyes reminding me of his heated gaze that roamed over my body last night, that locked on my own eyes as his touch left a fiery trail all over me. He took the pan off the burner and wrapped his arms around my waist, jerking me closer to his body. “Fuck, I could die every time you show me.”
I could die of happiness this very minute, I thought.
“How’d you sleep?” he asked, his eyes so bright that it took my breath away.
I cleared my throat, trying to get a hold of myself. “Like a baby,” I said, my hands resting on his chest. “Your bed is really quite comfortable.”
“I thinkIwas what you found comfortable,” he said with a grin. “You were basically on top of me the entire night.”
“I’m sorry, I’m just used to the middle of the bed,” I said with a laugh.
“Oh, I wasn’t complaining,” he replied, and something about the tone of his voice made me feel weak. “I’m really hoping to be your middle of the bed again tonight.”
“I mean, youarereally good at it…”
We spent the rest of the morning eating pancakes, FaceTiming with his grandpa, and showering together. By the time we headed down to the garage and got in his car, I felt genuinely more content than I had in years. As Connor drove me home, I tried to think of ways to convince him to hang out at my house all day because why not? I’d taken the day off as recovery from everything that’d been going on with my dad, so I’d decided to lean into a full day of relaxation.
His phone started ringing over Bluetooth, and the name Brian Cartner showed up on the screen.
“Hey, Brian. What’s up?” Connor said after answering the call.
He reached over with his right hand and linked his fingers through mine, and I looked down at our intertwined hands and couldn’t believe how perfect everything was.
“Great game last night, bro,” the guy said, his voice blasting into the car through the speakers.
“Thanks, man,” Connor said.
He looked over at me and mouthed the wordsmy agent, and I nodded.
“I saw all the photos of you and Duffy Distefano last night and I am fuckingproud, Cunningham,” he said, and I wanted to giggle.
How surreal was my life? My NFL boyfriend’sagentwas saying he was “fucking proud” after seeing photos of us together.
“So proud that I called Bethany to check in on your status and holy shit—you are the organization’sgoldenboy right now. Between the wins and the way you committed to the Duffy bit, things are looking promising as—”
“Wait, Brian,” Connor interrupted loudly, glancing over at me with panic in his eyes. “Stop.”