Eight Weeks (Unfrozen Four Book 2)
Eight Weeks: Chapter 33

“soon you will be mine”—Fallingforyou by The 1975

I guess I did end up falling asleep because the last thing I remember is holding Sofia a little closer to me in case that would be the first and last time I got to do it. And now, she’s standing in the middle of her room, currently stripping off my shirt.

She has already put on some leggings and must have brushed her hair because it doesn’t look tangled at all. Her back is turned to me, so she doesn’t know that I’m awake, and I do not plan on letting her know I am for a little while longer.

I try my best not to look at her when she throws my shirt in her hamper to get it washed, her back completely exposed to me. And I totally don’t imagine walking up behind her, brushing her hair out of the way so I can kiss down her neck.

Nope, totally not doing that.

My dick jumps at the thought, and never in my life have I hated a boner more than in this moment.

Luckily, I don’t have much time to admire her silky skin and make myself feel like a creep because her room door swings open without a warning.

Unfortunately, the person opening the door is none other than Leon, though, his appearance sure does help with my boner as that one’s now no longer standing strong.

A nasty smirk tugs on his lips as his eyes linger on Sofia’s chest a little too long before she covers herself up with her arms.

“Leave,” she says… or so I would assume by the sound of her voice. Demanding, mad. I’m not even going to pretend I understood, but I love making up my own meanings.

“Fuck, you’re hot, Sofia,” he says, and salivates. Okay, I’m kidding, that’s my head speaking.

“Leon, LEAVE!”

He shakes his head, grinning so proudly, I would love to throw a fist just to fuck him up. That fucker doesn’t even speak at first, he just stands there, staring. But when he does replace his voice, he says all the wrong things. “Why are you covering yourself, Sofia? It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before.”

Now, you probably already guessed what happens next; I get up from the bed and walk up behind Sofia.

“Is there a reason you’re staring at my girlfriend like you’re starving, dude?” I ask, and because I am a petty and fucked-up man, I have the audacity to bring one of my arms around Sofia and lay it right over her boobs, to cover her up even more. As soon as my palm brushes her skin, I regret doing so immediately.

My dick hardens again, torturing me with a boner that most likely won’t go away unless being taken care of. Just great. When I thought I hated the one before, it’s nothing compared to this one.

“Why, got a problem with that?”

“I do, actually.” I bring my other arm up to Sofia’s chest, now covering her up with both of my arms while also pressing her closer to me. At this point, she might very well be able to feel my dick poking her, but I’m too focused on gatekeeping what’s mine to care. “Your girlfriend not giving you enough to look at?”

He dodges my question. “I need to talk to Sofia.”

“Hm, come back in an hour,” I say unapologetically. “Or better yet, leave and never come back. Whatever you need to say to her, I just bet it’s something stupid. So, spare yourself the embarrassment and leave.”

Leon tries to replace his brain in the back of his head and huffs in annoyance. Then he looks at Sofia, ignoring my presence. Not for long though, I’ll make sure of it. “Sofia, I want you back.”

She snorts, as so do I. “I decline, disrespectfully.”

“But I love you!”

And I hate him. I did from the second Sofia told me about him, and my hatred only just got multiplied by seeing his face so early in the morning.

“You’re a pathetic little shit, anyone ever tell you that?” I ask him because it’s true. For all he knows, Sofia is in a committed relationship. Randomly showing up, barging into her room to confess his love in front of her boyfriend is… pathetic, and sad. Very, very sad.

“How can you even date him?” Leon points at me, yet his eyes stay on Sofia. “He’s a dick. I’m so much better than him!”

“Better than me?” I laugh because this guy cannot be fucking serious, can he? But then I see his face, the expression of truly believing he’s a million percent certain that there is no one better than him on this planet. “Ah, shit, you really believe that.”

“Leon, just leave,” Sofia sighs. “I really can’t stand you. You’re disrespectful. You’re a cheater. God, seeing your face makes me want to puke.”

“Do me a favor and take a step back,” I say to Leon, and as stupid as he is, he does without thinking twice. Turning Sofia and me a little more sideways, I reach one arm out and push the door shut. Once shut, she moves out of my arms and speeds up to throw on a shirt while I make sure the door stays closed.

“I thought you were asleep.” I watch as Sofia walks over to her makeup vanity, probably to remove the remains of the makeup I didn’t get off. Or maybe not. The fuck do I know? I’m not even sure if I used the right makeup removing stuff.

“Clearly I wasn’t anymore.” Bringing both of my hands up to my face, I gently slap away the feeling of Sofia’s boobs in my hands. Unless I can genuinely enjoy the feeling, I don’t want to have it imprinted in my memories, it would be nothing but torture. Nonetheless, I allow myself a little joke to lighten up the tension. “You know, if you wanted my hands on your boobs that badly, you could just ask.”

Sofia rolls her eyes at me, but I can see the little smile on her lips. She takes a seat by her makeup vanity and pulls out a bottle that looks like water with some oil swimming on top of it. Sofia then reaches into another drawer and takes out some cotton pads. “I’ll remember that for next time.”

Next. Time. Oh, fuck me. “They make a great bra, just saying.”

She smirks but doesn’t allow herself to laugh or even chuckle. I think someone may have forgotten that I can see her reflection through the mirror.

“Yeah? Says who?”

“Science has proven it,” I answer immediately. No hesitation whatsoever. I walk over to her bed and take a seat, still making sure I see her through the mirror though. “I held yours for approximately a minute in total. You instantly felt better, didn’t you?”

This time, Sofia allows the chuckle to come out. “If that keeps your ego unharmed, sure.” Did anyone hear what she said before the word “Sure”, because I certainly did not.

“You know what? I really appreciate that,” I say. “Bruising a jocks ego can lead to fatal consequences.” Consequences like… needing some extra cuddle time with the woman you wish to be with because jocks are the biggest babies to ever exist. Or I’ve just gone soft because of Sofia and only I have this strange desire to cuddle up to her for a whole day and do absolutely nothing else.

“Thanks for at least trying to remove my makeup last night, by the way.” And she’s not even asking about the consequences… what a shame. It would have been a great way to ease into a conversation we both know has to happen, but don’t dare to start with.

“I did that bad of a job, huh?”

She shakes her head with a hint of a chuckle. “No, but you did use makeup wipes and not micellar water.”

Yeah, I don’t know the difference. And why the fuck would some water remove makeup better than something that’s made to remove it? I will never understand it.

As I watch Sofia in silence, I start to think about what our lives would be like if we were to have a future together. Would I always watch her when she gets ready before we go somewhere together, or would I go do something else? Would I come home from a game and be greeted with a big teddy bear hug and thousands of kisses? Would she come home from work and tell me all about it?

I wonder if she would rather live somewhere on the countryside, or in a bigger city. Surely, I don’t have many choices when I do end up playing for the NYR. I’d have to stay somewhere close to New York and the rink, ideally. Truthfully, for Sofia, I might even consider not playing for the NYR if she wanted to live elsewhere.

Would we have kids? It would be her decision because I’m good with either.

Would we argue a lot? I do think we wouldn’t. And when we do, I hope they’re easily fixable because I can’t imagine staying mad at her for longer than an hour.

Would we go out a lot or would we be a rather indoors-y couple?

I don’t want to ruin the vibe we have going, but… I think it’s time we have that conversation. So, after taking a couple of encouraging breaths, I blurt out some words that I hope are, “Sofia, I hate to be that person, but we need to talk.”