The Last Rebound by Ingrid Thurner

Author:Ingrid Thurner [Thurner, Ingrid]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-09-19T16:00:00+00:00

14

Carter

March 6

I walk into my kitchen to bake the pie I promised, still thinking about Evan’s words.

Finish what we started. Yes, please. Hopefully, we’ll be doing more than that. I’m done going slow. These last weeks we’ve been having fun exploring each other’s preferences, finding out what works for us, but we’ve taken it slow enough. All I can think about is wanting to fuck him. Honestly, it’s taken over my entire brain at this point.

I grin at the thought of all the things I want to do to him with him while grabbing all the ingredients I need for a nice apple crumble, and get to work. For once, all my thoughts are nice ones. Dirty, and very distracting, but, oh, so nice. I’m still a little worried how Evan feels after that loss, it was a tough game for him, but his smile when we said goodbye suggested he’s going to be okay. He explained last night on the phone that sometimes he just needs a night to sulk and process. I usually call Nadine or Lucas to vent after a crappy game, but I’ve had teammates who needed alone time to let it go, so I gave him what he asked for, moving our date to tonight. I take the pie out of the oven when the timer beeps, and send a photo to Evan.

Carter: hope you’re hungry

Evan: Always, for pie and for you ;)

Carter: groan, too cheesy

~

I knock on the door of Evan’s townhouse, and I hear the barking before Evan even opens the door. The moment Paul can see me, he attacks my legs in search of cuddles. I quickly hand the pie box over to Evan to avoid dropping it, squat down and happily give the dog what he wants, rubbing his head before I have a chance to so much as say hello to my boyfriend. Evan leans against the doorframe, waiting for me to get up again.

“Hi there,” he grins, and he leans in for a peck on my lips.

“Hey, you.” I put my hand on his neck and pull him closer for a longer kiss. I smile against his mouth, and I can feel him relax against me. “How did the press handle it?”

“Not as bad as I expected,” he groans. “But talking to them after a loss will never be my greatest hobby.”

“One of the crappiest things about being an athlete,” I agree.

He nods his head and takes my hand, leading me inside.

“Come on, dinner is almost ready.”

“Oh yeah? What are we eating?”

“Will you smack me if I say me?” He chuckles as I roll my eyes and shake my head at the bad pun. “Didn’t want to spend a long time cooking so it’s just soup and pretzels.”

“Pretzels? For dinner?”

“Why not?” He walks into the kitchen and puts the pie down on the counter. “I love them!”

“Never considered it evening food, I guess,” I say, following him. “But works for me, I don’t need fancy.”

“Soup, pretzels, and pie for dessert.

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