It was all done in fun, though. Each of them knew exactly how serious I was about Geneviève.
On my way back to our apartment, I heard her call my name. I turned around just in time to see her racing toward me at full speed. The crazy smile on her face made me laugh as she bounced into my arms. Her long legs wrapped around my middle and held on tight.
“Hi,” she said before kissing me with everything she had.
My hands gladly found her ass, and I held her up while I moved toward our set of steps. “Did you like the show, Geneviève?” I asked her with a smile as she continued kissing my face.
“Best show yet,” she said, her fingers starting to run through my hair. She knew that drove me mad. If we didn’t get to our apartment soon, the cameras would catch an entirely too R-rated scene for next week.
I hustled up the steps with ease, barely feeling the burn in my thighs. It was nothing compared to the deep throbbing sensation I felt in my cock at the moment. “I think the show’s just about to begin.”
The next daythe guys had late ice time. Then a meeting after.
On days like this, Geneviève always caught a ride with Jillian or one of the other women.
I was beat.
My knee was killing me even worse than usual.
And I lost count with how many times I checked my phone for a message from Sienna.
Nothing.
The worry and suspense were eating away at me. I wanted to share my burden with G. So much.
But I also didn’t want to worry her.
It was bad enough that I laid awake at night.
There was no sense for her to do the same.
She had practice, classes, and the women had to travel to Vancouver in two days. Throwing something like this at her now wasn’t fair.
Especially if there was nothing to throw.
No, I was the one who had potentially gotten myself into this mess. It was my job to wait it out.
It was dark, so I barely caught sight of my woman on our balcony. She was standing in front of the grill. That in itself wasn’t odd. But her being out here at this time of night was.
I’d texted her when I left the rink to see if she needed anything. As I strode up the steps, I smelled the delicious aroma of steak. “What are you cooking?” I asked, dumping my bag on the landing and moving behind her.
My hands crept around her stomach, and she turned her head so I could kiss her. “Fillet,” she answered back, and I couldn’t help but chuckle.
“But I get that every day,” I teased her, touching my lips to hers again.
“I love you, Beauregard,” she said in her sexy as hell accent that traveled directly to my dick. I squeezed her body tight, kissing her longer this time.
“Love you, too, Geneviève.”
Then we went inside and ate some of the best fillet I’d ever tasted.
After that, I had my own, personal, Geneviève fillet.
And I enjoyed that even more.