She bursts out laughing.
“What’s funny about that?” I ask, furrowing my brow.
Her cheeks are pink and she covers her mouth with a hand. “Sorry…no, nothing.”
“What?”
“I was just being silly, I guess. About you saying you need meat.”
I put my hands around her waist and pull her to my lap. I’m sitting on the couch, and once she’s straddling me, all traces of amusement vanish from her face.
“You didn’t tell me you’ve got the sense of humor of a teenager,” I say teasingly.
“Sometimes,” she says, smiling.
I grip her waist, my cock getting hard beneath her. “Are you hungry, Miranda?”
Her cheeks darken from pink to red. When she nods, I know she’s not thinking about dinner.
“You know, you’re very sexy when you describe the ways World War II helped end the Depression,” I say, sliding my hands from her waist around to her ass.
Her honey-colored eyes shift from wide and tentative to warm and confident. She puts her hands on my shoulders, her fingertips grazing the back of my neck. “You like it when I talk economic recovery?”
“Very much. I pretty much like everything that comes out of that gorgeous mouth, though.”
She smiles and leans closer. “Even when I call you an asshole?”
“Even then.” I squeeze her ass and smile. “You say it with such tenderness.”
Her hum of amusement ends abruptly when I slide my hands from her ass up the back of her shirt. I move slowly, relishing the soft warmth of her skin. The goosebumps tell me she hasn’t been touched this way in a while, and that really gets me going.
I move one hand up to her neck, pulling her close and stretching up until our lips meet. She tastes like the coffee she’s been drinking. I kiss her deeply, keeping one hand on her neck and wrapping my other arm around her back to pull her close to me.
She weaves her fingers up into my hair and tugs. I groan, desire for her coursing through me.
When she breaks away and leans back, smiling down at me, I look at her in confusion.
“I felt that,” she says, arching her brows with amusement.
“Well, yeah. I haven’t had sex since before we met. You could probably feel it even if I had several pillows on my lap.”
She laughs. “Not that, Jake. I felt your stomach growling.”
“Oh. Ignore it.”
With a soft sigh, she says, “We have to study. I have a scholarship riding on my GPA for this semester and I have to get an A in this class.”
“I’ll give you five thousand bucks to make out with me instead of studying. Will that help?”
“First of all…I’m worth more. And second of all, no. I’m putting myself through college.”
I lay my head back against the couch and groan. “All right, blue-baller. I’ll order some dinner. Is Chinese okay?”
“It’s great. I’ll take some vegetable lo mein.”
She slides off my lap and I miss her warmth immediately. I sigh and stand up, getting out my phone to call for food.
“I’m gonna ask you to list four ways World War II helped end the Depression after this,” I say to her. “Be ready.”
She grabs her notecards and starts reading.
I don’t know how she does it all. Working two jobs and going to school has to be exhausting. She doesn’t even complain. And while I wish I could do more to ease her burdens, help studying is all she’ll take from me.
She’s a strong woman. My mom always told me to make sure I found a strong woman when I decided to settle down. Thinking of her makes my throat tighten, so I focus on the Chinese order instead.
“You just ordered enough food for ten people,” Miranda says when I hang up the phone.
“I thought you might like to try some other stuff besides what you wanted. And I’m hungry.”
“Me, too. It all sounded good.”
I sit back down on the couch. She wraps a blanket around herself and sits down on a small, threadbare chair. It’s cold in her apartment, probably because she keeps an eye on the thermostat to save on the electric bill.
“Okay, tell me about the causes of the Great Depression,” I say, putting my feet up on the coffee table.
“You said you were going to ask how World War II ended the Depression.”
I give her a sly smile. “This is how I keep you on your toes.”
Her eyes sparkle as she grins. Damn, I wish I was under that blanket with her.
“All right…causes of the Depression,” she says.
I sit back and listen to her answer, feeling more content than I can remember ever being. This is what an off day should be like. I usually spend off days alone, eager to get back to hockey, but it’s the farthest thing from my mind right now.
What the hell is happening to me? This is more than just attraction. I prefer Miranda’s tiny, drafty apartment to my suite at the Dupont, and I prefer her company to anyone else’s.
Before this thing with us goes any farther, I need to get out of my fake relationship with Hailey. Miranda won’t put up with deceit, and if I’m lucky enough to make her mine, I won’t do anything to ruin it.
Chapter 16
Miranda
I like having Jake at my place. When I watched him kick off his Docs and put his feet up on my coffee table, I knew he was comfortable here. He doesn’t seem to care that it’s small or that my couch is so worn out it sags when he’s sitting on it.
And I have to say, he’s a great study partner. He remembers the things I don’t know and circles back to them. I never imagined I’d be studying with a hot, wealthy professional athlete, but it feels comfortable.
“What are you thinking?” Jake asks me just before he bites into an egg roll. “Do I have sauce on my chin or something?”
He swipes at his chin and I smile. “No, you’re good. I was thinking…” I tuck my hair behind my ear, trying to decide how to phrase what I’m thinking.
“That you’re ready to quit studying and show me your bedroom?”