12
Trey
Mom texted not long after Lexi had her freak-out.
Which was actually entertaining as hell.
Lexi’s freak-out, I mean.
Not Mom’s text.
Mom’s text was a blunt, “We’ll be there soon. Wait for us, please,” and that was it.
Lexi was ready to run away screaming.
Watching her get all riled up shouldn’t be as funny as it actually was.
But it was.
Sitting here—staring at her—I couldn’t think of anything cuter than what I’d just witnessed.
Unfortunately, she’d done it in front of the cameras.
So, I knew exactly what was going to be aired on the next show.
I’d attempted to take away the TV remote.
That didn’t work out as I’d expected.
Nope.
I held it up high, way out of her reach.
Instead of giving up, Lexi only saw that as a challenge.
And that challenge meant she dove at me, and climbed me like a tree.
No joke.
I’d forgotten this woman grew up on a ranch.
Ranch girls knew how to climb trees.
And professional hockey players, apparently.
To say that I was struggling with the platonic side of our arrangement would be putting it mildly.
Being around Lexi Hunter—watching Lexi Hunter—smelling Lexi Hunter—was more than getting to me.
But—having Lexi Hunter climb me like a goddamn tree?
That was a little too much.
No, a lot too much.
Her sweet, soft body—clinging onto mine as she moved up, up, up—
Christ.