Scoring His Heart: A Badboy Hockey Romance (Toronto Bison Book 1) by Camellia Tate

Author:Camellia Tate [Tate, Camellia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2022-01-26T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Sasha

Somehow, without me noticing, Ophelia had easily slotted herself into my schedule. Or perhaps, that wasn’t quite accurate. It would be more correct to say I had let her. Spending time together was terrific.

The sex was fantastic and her company, in general, was... nice.

It wasn’t something I’d experienced before. Not really. Zhenya had teasingly suggested I was dating Ophelia and maybe he was right. It did feel like dating. Even if we spent a lot of our time together having sex.

So when I had a whole weekend off, I obviously invited Ophelia over. Mostly for the sex. At least, that had been my original plan, until Ophelia had called with what sounded like a pretty shitty cold.

She’d offered to stay home, not wanting me to get sick, too, but I’d insisted. My immune system was strong enough to fend off anything. Besides, I didn’t want to give up my weekend with Ophelia, even if she was a sniffly mess.

“I’m going to make you some tea,” I informed her once she’d arrived. “Go sit on the couch, I’ll bring some blankets, too.”

“You’re so kind.”

I wasn’t sure just offering Ophelia blankets and tea really counted as particularly kind. Even so, my heart lifted to hear how sincere her voice sounded.

“Most guys would’ve just told me to stay home,” Ophelia insisted. “You’re different.”

“I am that,” I confirmed. “I’m much better.” There was a tone of teasing. In some ways, I was sure that I was better, but frankly, offering someone tea and blankets when they were feeling unwell wasn’t exactly a high bar.

When I returned with the hot beverage and a pile of blankets, I handed Ophelia the remote before settling down next to her on the couch. I pulled Ophelia’s legs across my lap.

“You pick what we watch and I’ll pick what we have on pizza.”

It didn’t take her long to settle on a movie, cuddling up so that her head was tucked in against my shoulder. Glancing down, it struck me how very domestic this was. And yet, far from running screaming into the night, I actually found myself very comfortable.

“Tell me about your sisters,” Ophelia asked, once I’d ordered our pizza and made sure she could reach the big box of tissues. “How many do you have?”

It wasn’t a question I’d expected, but there didn’t seem any reason why I shouldn’t answer it.

“Two,” I replied. “Vika and Lena. Vika’s two years older than me and Lena’s two years younger. My parents had a plan.” That was a joke, but it was one that my sisters and I made often. “Vika’s got two kids - Katya and Lev. Lena has cats - Bimka and Rurik. She says it’s important to tell people she has them because they’re as important as Katya and Lev.”

Ophelia smiled, her fingers curling around my wrist. She felt cool to the touch, making me glad I’d piled all my available blankets on her.

“Do you get on with them?” Ophelia pressed. “With your sisters, I mean, not the cats.

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