Always Only You by Chloe Liese (z-lib.org).epub

THE PLANE RIDE IS UNCHARACTERISTICALLY SULLEN. ROB AND I HAD A HELL OF
a time pulling people apart. Most of them were just cranky after it, but a few of
the guys came out the worse for wear. François hasn’t stopped scowling, and
Tyler, still horrified by the kiss, keeps rinsing his mouth with water, then spitting
into an empty container. Andy has a somewhat-deserved black eye. Kris has a
split lip—serves him right for jumping headlong into violence. Thankfully,
hockey players don’t draw much notice for looking beat up.
Rob’s passed out in the seat next to me, snoring. I have As You Like It in
hand because that’s up next for Shakespeare Club, and it’s a good distraction.
I’m trying not to be entirely aware of Frankie, who sits across the aisle, flipping
through her phone, with her laptop up and running as well.
Her hair’s down, dark and smooth as melted bitter chocolate. She’s in
relatively casual clothes—black, slim pants, a fuzzy gray sweater that looks like
a feather duster—Freya has one in ice blue, so I’m guessing they’re in right now
—and her sneakers, black and silver as always. Her cane rests between her legs,
and she weaves her fingers through her necklace as she glances between screens.
My already weak resistance evaporates as I drop my book to the lap tray.
“Plotting world domination?”
She peers up and locks eyes with me. A slow grin warms her face. “But of
course.”
I feel a blush heating my cheeks. Thank God for the playoff beard somewhat
hiding it. How can I be so calm on the ice, in press rooms, in front of everyone
else, but I’m a blushing schoolboy when it comes to her?
“You’re staring at me,” she says.
I blink rapidly. “Um. I. What?”
Frankie lifts a hand self-consciously to her face. “Do I have powdered sugar
on my face or something?”
Earlier on the flight I had to studiously not observe Frankie eat a box of
powdered mini donuts. I made sure I didn’t watch her lick every single fingertip.
And I definitely didn’t put down my lap tray to cover a growing problem
crushed against my fly after watching each long finger slip into her mouth, then
slide out with an erotic pop.
I lean across the aisle, and don’t you know, God’s looking out for me.
There’s a smudge of powdery white right on her cheekbone. I wipe it away and
fight the urge to lick my thumb clean. “Just there.”
Her smile deepens, making the dimple appear. “Thanks. Now, how about