#tm28

Above centre ice, the giant jumbotron had started its usual routine of scanning the crowd for reactions.

Most of the time, players barely paid attention to it. It was usually the same rotation with kids holding nachos bigger than their heads, fans jumping up and down trying to get on camera, couples suddenly panicking when they realised the kiss cam had landed on them.

Timo’s eyes drifted toward it without much thought, and then he noticed her.

The camera had landed on a group of girls sitting a few rows up in the lower bowl, all of them pressed together as they talked and laughed over the noise of the arena, clearly having a great time. One of them was wearing his jersey. Not just the team jersey. No, his jersey, the number on the sleeve was unmistakable.

For a second, he assumed she knew the camera was on her and her friends, but then he looked closer. She had absolutely no idea.

Her friends were the first ones to notice, one of them suddenly grabbing her arm and pointing dramatically upward toward the gigantic screen hanging over the ice, while another started waving both arms like she was trying to guide an aeroplane.

The girl blinked, confused at first, looking from friend to friend like she had missed a joke. Then she followed their pointing, and she saw herself on the jumbotron.

Her eyes widened instantly, and then she broke into a laugh that looked completely genuine, the kind that crinkles your eyes and makes you cover your mouth for a second because you can’t believe what’s happening. Her friends erupted beside her, waving wildly and leaning into the camera as the section around them started cheering. After a moment, she lifted both of her hands and waved too, half laughing, half embarrassed, like she couldn’t believe an entire arena was suddenly looking at her.

The jersey she was wearing was slightly too big, the sleeves falling past her wrists in that comfortable, oversized way fans liked.

Timo stared up at the screen a second longer than he probably should have. Something about the moment stuck in his head immediately. She was, without exaggeration, the cutest girl he had ever seen, and, very unfairly, the hottest.

“Hey,” one of his teammates muttered, grinning, nudging him with a glove. “That one’s yours, Meier.” Timo barely heard him.

The camera stayed on the group a few seconds longer because the crowd clearly loved their reaction, and one of the friends even turned her slightly so the name on the back of the jersey was visible to the entire arena. A ripple of cheers spread through that side of the rink.

Inside his helmet, Timo felt his ears warming in a way that had absolutely nothing to do with the game. Is this what people mean when they say love at first sight?

When the jumbotron finally cut to another crowd shot, he realized he was still looking up where it had been. Cutest girl he’s ever seen.

The referee skated toward the dot for the next face off, calling both centres in.

Timo straightened, rolling his shoulders once, suddenly feeling much more awake than he had thirty seconds ago. If you were sitting up there watching the game, wearing his jersey and cheering for him then he was going to give you something worth watching.

The puck dropped.

Timo exploded forward with far more intensity than the previous shifts, snapping his stick down and winning the draw cleanly before accelerating into the offensive zone with powerful strides that sprayed ice behind him.

The pace of the play immediately lifted.

He chased the puck into the corner, fought along the boards, and managed to kick it loose to a teammate while the crowd responded to the sudden burst of energy.

From the bench, someone yelled, “Meier’s flying tonight!” And honestly, he kind of was.

The thought of the girl in his jersey sitting somewhere in the stands had planted something competitive and slightly ridiculous in his brain.

A few shifts later, he intercepted a pass in the neutral zone and took off again, building speed with long, powerful strides before cutting around a defender who clearly hadn’t expected the sudden attack.

The noise in the arena swelled.

He drove toward the net and snapped a quick shot that forced the goalie to stretch hard to make the save.

As he circled away, breathing heavier now, adrenaline buzzing through him, Timo allowed himself a quick glance toward the crowd. Realistically, there was no chance he could find her again in a sea of thousands of fans. But still, the idea was there. Somewhere up there in the arena was a girl wearing his jersey who had laughed and waved at the camera like the whole thing was the funniest surprise of her night.

And the possibility that she might be watching him play right now made him push even harder on the next shift. He was skating faster, his hits were harder and he was more determined in every rush. Because if the jumbotron found her again later, he wanted the scoreboard to give her a reason to celebrate.

The final minutes of the game felt faster and slower at the same time, the clock above the ice ticking down while the noise inside the arena kept building with every second that passed.

The New Jersey Devils were holding on to their lead, and the crowd had that restless, standing-on-the-edge-of-your-seat kind of energy that spreads through an arena when everyone knows the win is close.

On the ice, Timo Meier could feel it too. Every shift was sharper. Every pass mattered.

But even while he battled along the boards and chased down loose pucks, a small, ridiculous part of his brain kept wondering the same thing.

Was she still watching? Was the girl in his jersey still somewhere up there in the stands?

The opposing team pulled their goalie. They now had six attackers on the ice and the arena got even louder if that was even possible.

Timo hopped over the boards with his line, skates digging into the ice as he joined the play. The puck bounced out toward centre, and he lunged forward, reaching with his stick to knock it away from a defender.

For a second, it slid free. He took two hard strides and fired it down the ice. The puck slid perfectly, and it went straight into the empty net.

The arena exploded. A wall of sound crashed over the ice as the red light flashed and fans jumped to their feet, shouting and clapping while music blasted through the speakers.

Timo raised his arms, grinning as his teammates rushed toward him. Their gloves thumped against his helmet. Someone grabbed him in a quick hug.

“Let’s go!” one of them yelled.

The horn finally sounded seconds later, long and loud, echoing through the building. The game was over, and the win was secured. The players tapped their sticks and skated toward each other in celebration, the crowd still roaring while the jumbotron flashed graphics across the arena.

Timo was smiling like everyone else, but then he remembered something. His head tilted upward almost automatically. The jumbotron had switched to crowd reactions again. Their fans were cheering, and people were jumping for joy. A kid spilling popcorn because he was celebrating too hard.

And then—there she was again. It was the same group of girls. The girl in his jersey was on the screen once more, and this time she definitely knew it. The girl was already standing, both hands covering her mouth in disbelief as the people around her screamed and hugged each other. One of her friends was jumping up and down, pointing at the screen and then at the ice like she was trying to prove something. The camera zoomed slightly closer. The girl laughed again, shaking her head as if she couldn’t believe what was happening, and then she lifted her arms and cheered along with the rest of the arena.

Timo completely forgot that cameras might also be pointed at the ice. He was just standing there, looking up. One of his teammates, Nico, followed his gaze and immediately started laughing.

“Oh my god,” he said. “You’re looking for the girl again.”

Timo didn’t even try to deny it because there she was. Still wearing his jersey, it hadn’t been a dream. She was still smiling like she was having the best night of her life. And weirdly, that made the win feel even better.

He skated slowly toward the bench, glancing up at the screen one more time before it switched away again. Now he had a new problem because suddenly, he really wanted to find her in the arena.

The cheering inside the arena still hadn’t died down. Fans were on their feet, music was blasting, and players from the New Jersey Devils were still tapping gloves and skating toward the bench while arena staff started rolling out the three stars graphics on the jumbotron.

Up above centre ice, the camera operator clearly hadn’t lost interest in the group of girls. Especially the one in the jersey. For the third time that night, the jumbotron showed her section again. She was still laughing with her friends, slightly overwhelmed by the attention now that people around them had realized she had been on the screen multiple times. Someone behind them was pointing down toward the ice and teasing her, while one of your friends dramatically fanned her like she had suddenly become famous. She hid her face for a second, smiling. The crowd loved it.

Then the camera switched, and suddenly the entire arena was looking at Timo Meier, and he had absolutely no idea it had happened. Because at that exact moment, he was still staring up at the jumbotron, still admiring her.

There was a split second where the audience collectively realized what they were seeing before he did and a ripple of laughter moved through the crowd.

On the giant screen above the ice, Timo was very clearly looking up toward where she had been on the screen seconds earlier, a soft grin still stuck on his face like he had completely forgotten about the rest of the world. Until he started to realise, his eyes flicked upward again. Except this time, he saw himself and for a full second, he froze.

The arena erupted. Thousands of people instantly understood the situation, and the noise changed into that loud, teasing roar fans make when they know something funny or adorable is happening.

On the jumbotron, Timo’s expression shifted from confusion… to realisation, and then his cheeks turned noticeably red even through the visor of his helmet. He wasn’t just a little embarrassed, no, he was full-on blushing. The kind that spread across his face while he tried, and failed, to act normal. Which made the crowd get even louder.

On the screen behind him, someone in the stands pointed toward her section again, and the camera quickly split back to her for a moment.

Now the girl saw it too. Her eyes went wide as she looked between the ice and the screen, her friends completely losing their minds beside her. One of them grabbed her shoulders and shook her like, are you seeing this?!

Back on the ice, Timo laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck with his glove while the entire arena watched him. Then Jack skated past and nearly doubled over laughing.

“Bro,” he said, loud enough for nearby microphones to probably pick it up. “You’re cooked.”

Timo shook his head, still smiling, but his face was absolutely still red. When an idea hit him. A very bold idea, but a great idea nonetheless.

He looked back up at the jumbotron, knowing the camera was still on him, and pointed toward the stands where she had been sitting. The arena quieted just enough to notice. Then he gestured downward toward the ice.

It was a clear invitation. Come down. For a moment, the entire building seemed to hold its breath, and then the crowd absolutely exploded when she nodded her head yes.

Long after the game had ended the arena was still buzzing. Fans were slowly filing toward the exits, still replaying the moment on their phones, still laughing about the jumbotron situation that had turned into the most unexpected highlight of the night.

Back near the tunnel that led from the ice to the locker rooms, Timo was pacing. He was still wearing his full gear, he was still sweaty, and he definitely still hadn’t showered yet. Which several of his teammates had already pointed out.

“You’re seriously waiting here like that?” one of them said while passing by, half-dressed and carrying his equipment. “At least take the helmet off. You look insane.”

Timo ignored him. Mostly because he was too busy staring toward the hallway where arena staff had said they would bring her down. His heart was beating in that weird, nervous way that somehow felt more intense than the last minutes of the game. He had just played an NHL game, he had scored, and they had won, and somehow this felt more stressful.

From down the corridor he heard voices, then he heard the footsteps. And that’s when he saw a security staff member appear… followed by her. It was her, the girl from the stands. The girl in his jersey.

For a second both of them just stopped. Seeing someone on the jumbotron was one thing. Seeing them in real life, suddenly standing a few feet away, was another.

She looked slightly overwhelmed but excited, glancing around the tunnel and then back at him like she were making sure this was actually real.

Timo realized he was still holding his stick. He quickly leaned it against the wall.

“Hi,” he said, and immediately felt like that had been the least cool greeting possible.

She laughed softly.

“Hi.” Her voice made him grin instantly, partly because she sounded just as nervous as he felt.

Up close, he noticed the jersey again. His name across the back. Still slightly oversized on you.

“So…,” she said, gesturing vaguely back toward the arena. “That was kind of crazy.”

“Yeah,” he admitted. “I did not plan that.”

“I figured,” she said. “My friends are losing their minds upstairs right now.”

“I believe that.”

For a moment they both laughed, the awkwardness easing a little. Timo rubbed the back of his neck again, suddenly remembering something important.

“Oh—by the way,” he said quickly. “I’m really sorry I’m still in… all this.”

He gestured at himself. Sweaty hair, full gear. He still hadn’t bothered to take off his skates or his helmet.  “I kind of ran here.”

She smiled. “I noticed.”

“I was worried you’d leave,” he said honestly, the nerves still shouting through his body.

“Not after that whole arena watched it happen.”

“Fair point.”

A comfortable silence hung there for a second, the distant sounds of the arena echoing down the hallway. Then Timo shifted slightly, suddenly a bit shy again.

“I was wondering something,” he said.

“Okay.”

“Would you maybe want to wait a little while?”

She tilted her head slightly. “For what?”

He gestured toward the locker room hallway behind him.

“So, I can shower and not smell like a hockey game,” he said, smiling. “And then maybe we could go out somewhere and actually get to know each other.”

For a moment, she just looked at him, and then her smile spread wider.

“I think that sounds fair,” she said shyly, looking towards her feet when she answered him. Relief immediately crossed his face.

“Good,” he said. “Because I’ve been thinking about asking since the first second the camera showed you.”

She laughed again. “Go shower, Timo. I will wait.”

“Fastest shower of my life,” he promised. As he jogged backward toward the locker room, he glanced back once more, clearly still excited that she was actually there.

The arena was much quieter by the time Timo finally walked back out from the locker room hallway. He was now freshly showered, his hair still a little damp. Dressed quickly but neatly, like someone who had absolutely rushed through getting ready because he would rather not make someone wait too long.

He slowed when he saw her. She was sitting on a bench near the tunnel entrance, scrolling through her phone with a small smile that suggested she was probably answering a hundred messages from friends who had just watched everything happen.

When she noticed him, she looked up.

“Oh wow,” she said immediately. “You clean up pretty fast.”

He laughed. “I told you it would be fast.”

“Your teammates came by twice to check if I was real.”

“That sounds like them.”

He walked over, suddenly a little nervous again now that the adrenaline of the game had fully worn off.

“Are you hungry?” he asked. “Because I realized I haven’t eaten since before warmups.”

“Very,” she said. “Arena food smells good until you’re actually around it for three hours.”

“Then we should fix that.” They left through a quieter exit used by players and staff, stepping out into the cool night air where the sounds of the arena faded behind them.

For the first few steps, they kind of laughed. Not at anything specific, but just the weirdness of the night.

“Okay,” she said. “I still can’t believe that just happened.”

“Me neither,” Timo admitted. “I was just trying to look cool on the jumbotron, and it failed immediately.”

“You were not looking cool,” she laughed.

“I know.”

“You were staring.”

He groaned, covering his face briefly.

“The entire arena noticed,” she added.

“Yeah… I heard.”

They started walking down the street together, the glow from the arena lights fading as they found a small late-night place still open nearby. Inside it was warm and smelled like burgers and fries, the kind of place that was used to post-game crowds and didn’t make a big deal when athletes walked in. They grabbed one of the booths and sat down across from each other.

For the first time all night, things slowed down. There were no cameras or a big crowd. They could have a real conversation.

“So,” he said, leaning slightly forward. “I feel like I should start by asking your name since the entire arena knows you as ‘girl in my jersey.’”

She laughed and told him. He repeated it once, smiling like he wanted to make sure he remembered it.

They talked about the game first, because it was the easiest thing, and she admitted she’d actually come with her friends mostly for fun and hadn’t expected to end up on the jumbotron three different times.

“You were cheering really hard after the empty net,” he said.

“That’s because my friends were screaming that it was you.”

“Good friends.”

“They’re also texting me nonstop right now,” she admitted.

“About me?”

“Yes.”

He pretended to think about that. “Should I be worried?”

“Depends.”

They both laughed again.

Their food arrived, and the conversation drifted into easier topics—where she was from, how long she’d been following hockey, ridiculous travel stories from his road trips, and the chaos of life inside an NHL locker room.

At one point Timo glanced at his phone, which had been buzzing across the table for the last few minutes. He sighed.

“Let me guess,” she said. “Teammates.”

“Teammates.”

He checked it and shook his head with a grin.

“They’re all going out for drinks to celebrate the win.”

“That sounds fun.”

He looked at you for a second, thinking. Then his expression brightened. “You should come with me.”

“Crash the team celebration, you mean?”

“Yeah, why not?”

She hesitated, smiling.

“I did bring friends, remember.”

He immediately nodded. “Invite them.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” he said. “They’re basically part of the story at this point.”

She picked up her phone.

“I guarantee they will run here,” she laughed. Timo wished he could make her laugh more often because he so enjoyed hearing her laughter.

“I’m ready.”

“Are you sure?” she teased. “Because they are going to ask you about the jumbotron for the rest of your life.”

“Worth it.” Timo laughed.

A few minutes later she looked back up from her phone. “They’re coming.”

“Perfect.” He leaned back in the booth, clearly amused. The night had started with a hockey game, and now it was turning into something a lot more fun.

By the time you arrived at the bar, the place was already loud. Not normal loud but Hockey-team-celebrating-a-win loud.

Music pulsed through the room, glasses clinked everywhere, and a large group of players from the New Jersey Devils had taken over a big section near the back. Jerseys, hoodies, and backwards hats mixed together while they laughed about plays from the game. When Timo Meier walked in beside her, a few heads turned immediately and then some more until someone yelled across the room.

“HEY! JUMBOTRON!”

The entire table erupted.

Timo groaned and laughed at the same time. “I knew this was coming.”

She was laughing too, but before she could say anything the door behind you burst open again. It was her group of friends, all of them.

They spotted her instantly, and the screaming started.

“Oh my GOD.”

“IS THAT HIM?”

“THIS IS INSANE.”

They rushed over like a wave of excitement, grabbing her shoulders, hugging her, talking over each other so fast it was almost impossible to understand them.

“You were on the screen AGAIN.”

“We literally ran here.”

“I cannot believe this is real.”

Timo stood there smiling, slightly overwhelmed but clearly amused. She turned to him.

“Timo, these are the people who almost tackled me when the camera showed me.”

He nodded seriously. “Important people then.”

Her friends suddenly remembered basic social skills and straightened a little.

Timo stuck out his hand politely. “Hi, I’m—”

“Oh, we know,” one of them said immediately.

Another nodded aggressively. “Yeah we definitely know.”

The group burst out laughing. Timo laughed too, raising his hands in surrender.

“Okay, fair.” After a second, he gestured toward the huge table of players. “Come meet everyone.”

Her friends looked like they might pass out. Walking over felt a little surreal. Players turned in their chairs, some of them already grinning because they clearly knew exactly who you were.

One of them pointed dramatically. “That’s the girl!”

Timo shook his head. “Relax.”

Then he started introducing people. They shook hands, she was trying to remember names while her friends stood there with expressions that could only be described as complete disbelief. Eventually, she reached two players who were clearly enjoying the situation more than anyone else.

“Alright,” said Nico, smiling like he had been waiting for this moment all night. “So, this is the famous jumbotron moment.”

“I’m never escaping that, am I?” she asked.

“No,” he said cheerfully.

Next to him, Jack leaned back in his chair and looked at Timo. “You were staring, man.”

“I was not—”

“You were.”

“The entire arena saw it.”

Her friends nodded aggressively. “YES.”

Timo covered his face again while everyone laughed. When the drinks appeared, the music seemed to have gotten even louder, and the night loosened up quickly after that.

Her friends were suddenly deep in conversation with players about the game, about the jumbotron moment, about how fast everything had happened. Every few minutes someone would tease Timo again, and he would just shake his head and smile.

At one point the music shifted into something louder, something with a heavy beat that pulled half the bar toward the dance floor.

Jack noticed immediately. “Oh, we’re doing this,” he said to Nico, standing up.

Within seconds several players were heading over. She was still laughing with her friends when suddenly Nico appeared beside her.

“So,” he said casually.

“Yes?”

He gently took her shoulders and turned her slightly, and directly toward Timo who had just walked over with a drink in his hand. Nico patted him on the back and stepped away like a proud matchmaker. Jack, from behind, gave Timo a shove forward.

“Go dance,” he said.

The surrounding group started cheering immediately. Timo looked at her, half embarrassed but smiling.

“I swear they’ve been planning this.”

“Your team is very subtle.”

“So subtle.”

For a second, they just laughed while the music thumped around them. Then he held out his hand.

“Want to dance?”

She took it, and the cheering behind them got louder.

Out on the dance floor the lights flashed across the crowd, music vibrating through the floor while people celebrated the win. Timo pulled her a little closer so they wouldn’t get separated in the crowd.

From across the room, she could see Nico and Jack watching. Jack pointed at them like a proud coach while Nico gave an approving nod. She laughed at them. Timo followed her gaze and groaned.

“I’m never hearing the end of this,” he said into your ear, leaning more towards her.

“Probably not,” she said into his. Liking how close he was to her. He smiled anyway, and honestly, he didn’t seem to mind at all.

Eventually, the music started to fade into that end-of-night feeling where people were still laughing and talking, but the energy had softened, like everyone knew the night was wrapping up even if nobody had officially said it yet.

The group from the New Jersey Devils had slowly thinned out as players headed home, some still buzzing from the win, while others were clearly starting to feel the exhaustion from the game.

She and her group of friends were sitting together near the edge of the table again, still replaying the entire night for what felt like the hundredth time.

“Okay,” one of them said for the tenth time. “You got on the jumbotron, he stared at you in front of an entire arena, and now we’re out celebrating with the team. This is not a normal day.”

“Trust me,” she said, laughing, “I’m aware.”

Next to her, Timo was leaning back in his chair, his arm wrapped around the back of hers, watching the conversation with an amused smile like he still couldn’t believe the chain of events either. At some point, he checked the time and sat up a little.

“Alright,” he said gently. “Before this place closes, and we all get stranded here, I’m ordering rides.”

Her friends immediately protested.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“We can call—”

“It’s fine,” he said, already pulling out his phone. “Consider it part of the weirdest night ever.”

A few minutes later, he looked up again.

“Okay,” he said, pointing. “Car for you guys will be here in three minutes.”

Her friends stared at him like he had just performed another miracle.

“You’re serious?”

“Yes,” he said.

“You’re the nicest hockey player alive.”

“I don’t know about that.”

They stood up, still buzzing with excitement, pulling her into quick hugs and whispering rapid comments in her ear.

“You HAVE to text us everything.”

“Everything.”

“We expect updates.”

Timo laughed quietly while watching the chaos.

At the door, they turned back one last time.

“Thank you!” one of them called to him.

“No problem,” he said.

Then they disappeared outside toward their ride, leaving the sudden quiet space that happens when a big group leaves all at once. For a moment, it was just the two of them again, which somehow felt different now. It was quieter and more real.

Timo looked down at his phone again and smiled slightly.

“One more ride,” he said. “For us.”

“You didn’t have to do that either.”

“I wanted to.”

A few minutes later they were both stepping outside into the cool night air, the city much calmer than the arena had been earlier. The streetlights reflected faintly off the pavement, and the distant noise of traffic hummed in the background.

The car hadn’t arrived yet. So, they stood there together on the pavement. Neither of them seemed in a rush to fill the silence.

“I’m really glad you came tonight,” he said after a moment.

“To the game?”

“Yeah.”

She smiled. “Me too.”

He laughed softly.

“I almost didn’t look up at the jumbotron, you know.”

“That would have changed the entire night.”

“Exactly.”

The car pulled up to the curb beside them. Neither of them moved immediately. Instead, they both looked at each other with that slightly shy awareness that the night was ending.

“Well,” she said quietly.

“Well,” he echoed.

For a second, he hesitated like he was deciding whether to be bold or play it safe. Then he stepped a little closer.

“Can I—”

She didn’t let him finish the sentence. Her hand lightly grabbed the front of his jacket and pulled him the rest of the way in. The kiss was soft at first, a little careful, the both of them smiling into it because the whole day still felt slightly unbelievable. When they pulled apart, he was grinning in that stunned, happy way that made it obvious he had been hoping for that moment for hours.

“Best part of the night,” he said.

“Better than the win?”

He pretended to think very seriously.

“…Close.”

She laughed. The driver cleared his throat very politely from inside the car. Timo opened the door for her, still smiling like he couldn’t quite believe his luck. And as they both got in, it was pretty obvious this wasn’t the end of the story at all.

The ride across the city felt a lot calmer than the rest of the night had been. The adrenaline from the game, the bar, the music, and the constant teasing from the New Jersey Devils players had finally settled into something quieter.

Streetlights passed in soft flashes through the windows of the car while the driver moved through mostly empty streets. Beside her, Timo Meier sat a little turned toward her, one arm resting along the seat as the two of them talked more easily now.

They discussed random things, like her friends, his teammates, and the moment on the jumbotron that neither of them was ever going to escape.

“I’m serious,” he said at one point, shaking his head with a smile. “They’re going to bring that up for the rest of the season.”

“You were the one staring.”

“You waved first.”

“That is not how that happened.”

He laughed, the kind of laugh that still carried the excitement of the night.

Eventually, the car slowed and pulled up in front of her place, and for a moment, neither of them reached for the door. It was that quiet pause again. The kind that happens when a really good night is about to end and neither person is quite ready for it.

Timo got out first and walked around with her to the pavement. The city felt calmer here, the noise of the bar and arena replaced by distant traffic and the cool air of the late night. They both stood there for a second, smiling a little awkwardly.

“Tonight was… kind of crazy,” she said.

“Best kind of crazy,” he replied.

There was a brief pause before he stepped closer again, his hands resting gently on her waist like it was the most natural thing in the world now.

The second kiss felt less shy than the first one. It was much slower and lasted a little longer. Like neither of them was in a rush anymore. When they pulled apart, he didn’t step away right away. In fact, he looked like he was thinking very hard about something.

“You know,” he said softly, almost laughing at himself, “a part of me really wants to ask if I can come upstairs and keep celebrating the win.”

She raised an eyebrow playfully. “Only a part?”

“Okay… a big part.”

They both laughed, but then his expression shifted slightly, more thoughtful.

“But honestly,” he continued, rubbing the back of his neck in that familiar nervous habit, “I don’t want this to be just some random crazy night.”

She tilted her head. “No?”

He shook his head. “I kind of want to do this properly.”

“Properly?”

“Like… more dates,” he said. “Dinner. Hanging out. I invite you to more games. You sit somewhere slightly less dangerous than the jumbotron.”

She laughed. “That might be impossible now.”

“Probably,” he admitted. “But still.”

He looked at her again, a little shy but sincere. “I just don’t want to rush something that already feels pretty special.”

The quiet between them felt warm instead of awkward.

“That’s actually really sweet,” she said.

“Good,” he replied. “Because I was worried that sounded weird.”

“It didn’t,” she assured him.

He smiled with clear relief.

“Okay.”

Then he leaned down and kissed her one more time, quick but soft, like a promise instead of a goodbye.

“Give me your phone,” he instructed and she followed his orders. His quickly put his contact details in and texted himself.

As he stepped back toward the waiting car, he pointed at her with a grin.

“I’m texting you tomorrow.”

“You better.”

“Next game too.”

“I’ll be there.”

He opened the door, still smiling in that slightly amazed way. Because somehow a normal hockey game had turned into the start of something neither of them had planned at all.

The next morning was quiet in a way that almost felt strange after the chaos of the night before. Sunlight filtered through the windows of Timo’s place while he lay half-awake in bed, staring at the ceiling and replaying pieces of the previous night in his head.

The game. The jumbotron. Her laughter when she realized she was on it. Him very obviously staring.

He groaned and pulled a pillow over his face.

“They are never letting that go,” he muttered to himself, already imagining the jokes waiting for him the next time he walked into the locker room of the New Jersey Devils.

But then his mind drifted to the end of the night. To the car ride, standing outside her place, the way she smiled right before she kissed him. That thought made him grin into the pillow.

After a minute, he rolled over and grabbed his phone from the night stand.

There was no practice today, no team meeting, nothing scheduled until tomorrow, which meant he had time.

His thumb hovered over the screen for a second while he thought about how to word it and then he typed.

Good morning 🙂 I just woke up and I’m still thinking about last night. I realized I don’t have practice today, which feels illegal after a win. Do you want to do something together later?

He stared at the message for a moment and then hit sent before he could overthink it.

Phone tossed back on the bed. Two seconds later, he grabbed it again. Just in case she answered fast. Which, to his surprise… She did.

His screen lit up and he opened it immediately.

Good morning! I was hoping you’d text. And yes, I’d love to do something 🙂

Timo sat up in bed, suddenly much more awake than he had been a minute earlier. He ran a hand through his hair, thinking. He had suggested “doing things properly.” Which meant today technically counted as their first real date. No jumbotron and more importantly no teammates pushing them together. It would just be the two of them.

He smiled and started typing again.

Okay good, because I was going to be very disappointed if you said no. We could get coffee, walk around somewhere, maybe food later? I promise there are no arena cameras involved this time.

A moment passed. Then the typing bubble appeared again and for some reason, even after playing in front of thousands of people, that tiny typing bubble made him a little nervous.

Her answer came quickly.

Coffee sounds perfect. And I promise not to accidentally end up on any giant screens today.

Timo laughed quietly to himself when he read it.

Honestly at this point it might just happen automatically.

A little while later the two of them met outside a small coffee place that was much calmer than the arena, the bar, and everything else that had happened the night before.

For a second when they spotted each other, they both had that same small smile again—the one that said this is still kind of surreal.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi,” said Timo, clearly trying not to grin too hard.

“No cameras today?”

He glanced around dramatically.

“I think we’re safe.”

Inside the café it smelled like fresh coffee and pastries, the quiet background chatter of people working on laptops or talking softly making the whole place feel calm.

A very different world from a hockey arena.

He ordered drinks for the both of them and found a small table by the window, though neither of them stayed sitting very long before deciding to walk around the city instead.

The day had that crisp, cool air that made walking feel easy. Conversation came naturally now. They shared things that hadn’t come up the night before—where she grew up, stupid childhood stories, how he started playing hockey, which teammates were the most chaotic.

At one point he stopped mid-story because he started laughing.

“What?” she asked.

“I just realized something.”

“What?”

“If you come to more games,” he said, “my teammates are going to immediately look for you in the crowd.”

“That sounds dangerous.”

“It is.”

They would definitely tease him again in the locker room if they knew he had spent his day off like this. But honestly, he didn’t care.

Hours passed faster than either of them expected. Eventually, they ended up walking through another street lined with small shops and restaurants, the late afternoon light starting to soften around the buildings.

Timo checked the time on his phone. Then made a small disappointed face.

“You have somewhere to be?” she asked.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Let me guess.”

“Early practice tomorrow,” he said. “And a game in the evening.”

She nodded. “That makes sense.”

He slowed slightly as she kept walking.

“I wish I didn’t have to go yet though.”

“Me too.”

For a few seconds, neither of them said anything. Then he looked at her like an idea had just formed.

“Well,” he said.

“Well?” you asked.

“You could come tonight.”

“To the game?”

“Yeah.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You just want to check if I’m wearing your jersey again.”

He laughed. “I mean… that would be nice.”

She pretended to think about it.

“I’m serious,” he added, smiling. “I kind of like looking up and seeing you there.”

That sentence came out more honest than he probably intended, but he didn’t take it back. Instead, he nudged her arm lightly.

“So?”

She smiled. “Okay.”

“Yeah?” His face lit up immediately.

“Yeah.”

“But you have to wear the jersey,” he said.

“Oh my god.”

“I’m just saying.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Am I wrong?”

She laughed and shook her head.

“Fine. I’ll wear it.”

“Perfect.”

Because even though he had a full NHL game ahead of him tomorrow night… Suddenly, he was already looking forward to the moment he’d glance up at the crowd again.

That evening, the arena felt different to her now. The first time she had walked into the building, she had just been another fan in the crowd, bundled up with her friends and laughing about the chance of being caught on the jumbotron.

Now, as she stepped through the entrance again wearing the same jersey with Meier across the back, she felt a strange mix of excitement and nerves that made her heart beat a little faster. Her friends noticed immediately.

“Oh my god,” one of them said while grabbing her arm dramatically. “You are returning to the scene of the crime.”

“She’s not a normal fan anymore,” another added. “She has connections.”

She rolled her eyes, laughing.

“Relax.”

But secretly she understood why they were making a big deal out of it because the entire story still felt slightly unreal to her too.

Inside the arena the energy was already building again, warm air filled with music, announcements, and the rumble of thousands of people settling into their seats. Down below, players were starting warmups. Her eyes moved across the ice almost automatically, and there he was. Timo.

The second she spotted him skating past the boards, something in her chest tightened in that unexpected way that happens when someone suddenly matters more than they did yesterday.

As if he somehow felt it, he glanced up toward the stands. It only took him a second to spot her. Even from across the rink, she could see the grin spread across his face. He tapped his stick once against the boards in a small wave before circling back into the drill.

Her friends lost their minds.

“HE SAW YOU.”

“Yes he did.”

“Oh she’s blushing.”

“I am not.”

She absolutely was, and she wasn’t ashamed of it either. All throughout warmups, he kept glancing up every now and then, not enough to be obvious to everyone else, but enough that she noticed every single time, and every single time it made her smile.

Later, once the game started, she tried to focus like a normal fan. She really did try her best, but now there was a strange extra layer to everything.

Every shift he took. Every rush up the ice. Every time he came close to the boards on her side.

At one point he nearly scored, and she jumped halfway out of her seat along with the rest of the arena. Her friends immediately grabbed her shoulders.

“You screamed louder than everyone.”

“She’s invested now.”

“I am invested,” she admitted.

Down on the ice Timo was playing hard again. Maybe a little harder than usual. And whether he would ever fully admit it or not, he definitely knew exactly where she was sitting.

Between periods, he even caught himself glancing up toward the crowd again. Which did not go unnoticed by a certain teammate.

Jack skated past him and smirked. “Your friend’s here.”

“I know.” Timo tried to play it cool.

“You looked up there three times already.”

“Did not.”

“Don’t try to make this another Jumbotron incident!” Jack laughed and skated away.

By the third period, she had that familiar nervous energy again, the same one she had felt during the previous game. The scores were close, the plays were fast, and the arena was roaring. Every now and then she caught herself wondering if he would look up again. With only a few minutes left, he did exactly that during a stoppage in play. Their eyes met for a brief second. He smiled at her, not a big dramatic one but just a small, quick smile only meant for her. Her stomach flipped, and her friends noticed immediately.

“Oh my god it’s happening again.”

She buried her face in her hands while laughing.

“Stop.”

But she couldn’t stop smiling for the rest of the game, and somewhere down on the ice, Timo felt the exact same way.

The game had already been intense. Fast shifts. Hard hits. The kind of pace that made the crowd inside the arena louder with every passing minute.

Down on the ice, Timo could feel it building. The New Jersey Devils were pushing hard, and the opposing team clearly didn’t want to make anything easy.

Late in the second period, after a whistle near the boards, players started gathering in that usual cluster that always happens after a physical play. There were shoves, gloves tapping against chests, a few words were exchanged that the referees pretended not to hear. Timo turned to skate away when one of the opposing players skated past him and laughed. Not the friendly kind, the knowing one that was followed by a few words, hoping for a response.

“Oh hey,” the guy said loudly enough for nearby players to hear. “Jumbotron Romeo.”

A couple of players nearby snorted. Timo kept skating. He’d heard the jokes from his teammates all day already, but the other player clearly wasn’t done.

“Your girlfriend in the stands tonight?” he continued. “You gonna stare at her again instead of playing?”

Those words made Timo stop, slowly he turned back. The other player smirked like he had been hoping for exactly that reaction.

“What?” Timo said.

The guy shrugged exaggeratedly.

“Just saying. Whole league saw it.”

A couple more shoves happened around them as players separated. But the comment had already landed, and something about hearing it from the opposing bench instead of his teammates hit differently.

Up in the stands, she noticed immediately that something had changed. Players were talking, they got closer together with the kind of body language that never meant anything calm.

Her friend leaned forward. “Uh oh.”

Back on the ice the player said one more thing under his breath. “Better keep your eyes on the puck tonight, lover boy.”

For Timo that was enough, he dropped his gloves. The reaction from the arena was instant. The crowd roared as the other player barely had time to react before gloves hit the ice and the referees started shouting.

“HEY HEY!”

The other guy dropped his gloves too, and suddenly, they were grabbing each other.

Her heart jumped into her throat.

“Oh my god,” one of her friends said.

The fight wasn’t long, but it was real. They were pulling at each other’s jerseys, being followed by a couple of solid punches. The crowd absolutely losing their minds because hockey fans secretly love chaos. Eventually, the linesmen rushed in and pulled them apart, dragging them backward while both players were still trying to say something over each other.

As Timo was pushed toward the penalty box, one of his teammates skated past laughing. They weren’t laughing at him but at the situation.

From the stands she could see him sit down in the box, breathing hard. For a second he looked really annoyed, then he glanced up toward the crowd towards her section. When their eyes met again, his expression shifted into a slightly sheepish grin. Like he already knew exactly what she was thinking.

Her friends were staring at her.

“Girl! Did he just fight someone because of you?”

She covered her face, half laughing and half shocked.

“I think he did.”

Down in the penalty box, Timo leaned back against the glass while the crowd kept buzzing about it around him. Across the ice, the other player sat in the opposite box. The guy was still chirping. Timo just shook his head. That was totally worth it.

By the time the game ended the arena was still buzzing about the fight. People around her kept replaying it on their phones, talking about it, laughing about it, debating who had won. Her friends, however, had only one focus. Him.

“Well,” one of them said while they were making their way down toward the tunnel again, “your hockey player just fought someone over you.”

“He did not fight someone over me. And he is not my hockey player.”

“He absolutely did and he absolutely is.”

She tried to ignore the heat rising to her cheeks, but it was impossible when the entire situation still felt unreal. Part of her was flattered. Another part of her was slightly worried. Because hockey fights might look fun to the crowd, but they still involved actual punches, and actual injuries.

By the time she reached the familiar hallway near the locker rooms, the noise of the arena was muffled behind concrete walls and distant echoes of celebration.

She shifted nervously from foot to foot while waiting. Her friends stood a few steps away, trying very hard to pretend they weren’t listening for every sound coming from the locker room door. Then it opened, players started filtering out in small groups. Some of them were laughing, others were talking. Clearly still hyped from the game.

And then she saw him. Timo stepped out with damp hair, wearing a hoodie and sweats, and the second he spotted her his entire face lit up the way it always seemed to when he saw her. But she immediately noticed something else.

“Oh my god,” she said as she walked straight toward him. “Your lip.”

He instinctively touched it and winced slightly. There was a small cut on his bottom lip, not huge, but definitely noticeable.

“It’s nothing,” he said quickly.

“That does not look like nothing.” Her voice had that soft worried tone that instantly made him smile. “Did he hit you hard?”

“Not that hard.”

She leaned closer without even thinking about it, gently tilting her head to look at the injury better. For a moment, the loud hallway around them faded a little. Timo looked down at her, clearly enjoying how concerned she was.

“It looks bad,” she said.

 “Occupational hazard.” He shrugged.

She shook her head. “You’re unbelievable.”

He grinned.

Then, very casually, he said the most dangerous possible sentence.

“Well… it shouldn’t change anything.”

She blinked.

“Shouldn’t change anything about what?”

He leaned a little closer, lowering his voice just enough so only she could hear.

“It won’t affect our kisses.”

For half a second she just stared at him.

Then her entire face turned bright red while her friends behind her completely lost their composure.

“Oh my GOD.”

“Did he just—”

“I heard that!”

Timo laughed, clearly proud of himself.

“You’re impossible,” she said, trying to sound annoyed and failing miserably.

“You’re the one inspecting my injuries.”

“Because you got into a fight!” she argued.

“Important context,” he said, pointing slightly toward the arena, “I won.”

She laughed despite herself. “I’m not encouraging this behaviour.”

“Sure you aren’t.”

For a moment, they just stood there smiling at each other like two people who were still slightly surprised this whole thing had happened at all.

Then he glanced toward the exit.

“So… are you still free tonight?”

Her friends immediately stepped forward.

“Yes she is.”

She turned around. “I can speak for myself!”

Timo laughed again, gently wiping the small bit of blood from his lip with his sleeve.

“Good,” he said.

Then he looked back at her with that same soft expression he had started giving her since the jumbotron night.

“Because I’d really like to see you again.”

She smiled. “Even with the busted lip?”

He tilted his head slightly.

A bad game on top of a series of bad games. On top of that, the goal he scored in the first was called off due to a coaches challenge, which made everything so much worse. They would have been off on the right foot if not for that. It would have changed the trajectory of the entire night.

When the game was finally over, he'd texted, I have to stay late for therapy, so you should just head home.

Thinking he might want some company, she'd come to his apartment and started on dinner.

Now, looking at his closed door, she wasn't sure that had been the right choice. Maybe his text had actually been a dismissal, gently telling her he didn't want to see her tonight.

Timo loved Lauren. He really did, but after their fifth straight loss, this one a shut out, he didn't want to see anyone. He didn’t want the platitudes. Didn't want to rehash the game for a third time.

He didn’t want her pity, he thought as he stripped off the Ferreira sweater and threw it on the ground in frustration. If he'd known she was here, he would have taken a longer route home. He would have stopped to scream in his car. Maybe he would have stayed later at the rink, working off some of his frustration. Now, he had all this energy boiling under his skin and nowhere to put it.

“Hey,” Lauren said after knocking on his door and opening it just enough to pop her shoulder and head into the room.

It was only when her eyes lingered on his naked chest that he realized he was sitting on the end of his bed in nothing but his underwear. He'd been staring into space for who knew how long after getting out of his game day outfit.

“The salmon's ready if you're hungry.”

He stared at her.

He was hungry, but also, he didn’t want to talk. He didn’t really want to do anything if he was being honest.

“What can I do?” Still partially hidden behind the door, Lauren felt totally lost. Even on bad game nights, food usually pulled him into spending time with her.

He'd been irritable for days, but this was something different. She could practically feel the frustration rolling off of him and he seemed completely unwilling to talk, which was fine. They didn’t have to talk.

She was okay with quiet. She'd spent a lot of time alone, avoiding her father in her mom’s small crafting room — a place far too feminine for his big macho personality. Sometimes, when he came home drunk, she even slept in there, using the fabric and pillow forms as a makeshift bed. It certainly wasn’t as comfortable has her actual bed, but on those chaotic nights, it was safe, and that was far more comfortable than any mattress.

Slumping forward, elbows on his knees, Timo ran his hands into his hair and shook his head. “I don't know,” he mumbled.

The only thing she could think was that he needed a hug. He looked like he needed to be held and reminded that she still loved him, no matter what the scoreboard looked like.

But he was so hunched in on himself, she wasn’t sure that was actually what would help.

When the thought persisted, she decided to adapt it to the situation, at least. Perhaps this was their soulmate connection, telling her what to do, how to help.

Only one way to find out.

A few moments slid by in silence before he heard her cross the room.

Her bare feet appeared between his own, her little square toenails painted pink.

He sat up. Unwilling to look at her, he kept his eyes trained on the bathroom door.

He expected her to tell him he played well or that the next game would be better or that she knew he was doing the best he could, and he just couldn't take it.

To his pleasant surprise, she didn't say a word. Instead, her hands slid over his shoulders until her fingers interlaced behind his head, as if to hold it up for him.

No one had ever done this. Not even his own mother. But now that Lauren was here, holding him in a way he didn’t know he’d like to be held, something like relief swept over him and settled into his bones.

Leaning into her embrace, he rested his forehead against her stomach.

He had no idea how long they were there, how long she stood, silently holding him close to her warm body. It was long enough for some of his frustration to simmer off.

“Sorry,” he mumbled into her dress. Her quiet comfort and solace had him feeling sheepish for not saying hello or thanking her for fixing him dinner.

“You don’t need to apologize. Losing sucks.”

A laugh chuffed from his mouth.

“Frankly,” she continued, her fingers sweeping over the soft, short hair at the back of his head until they tangled in the longer strands on top, “if this is what you’re like when you’re upset, I feel a little like I won the lottery.”

Her statement, like so many other things she said so casually, caused him to both chuff up with pride and ache for the pain she’d gone through.

Suddenly feeling more comfortable than he had and assured, once again, that Lauren was indeed his soul mate, Timo pressed his face into her stomach and nuzzled.

Just like he hoped she would, she giggled.

His hands snuck up her skirt to the backs of her thighs, seeking that grounding, skin to skin contact.

After a few minutes of allowing himself to be held and letting their soulmate connection do the talking, Timo looked up to see her face, resting his chin against her stomach.

“Thank you for cooking me dinner.”

Brushing his hair back, she nodded. “You had a hard day. It’s the least I could do.”

When all he did was look at her, his eyes soft with love and gratitude, she offered, “do you want me to bring you a plate?”

Thinking that his mother, so strict about European table manners, would be so disappointed to hear he'd eaten in bed, he shook his head.

“Do you want me to pack it up?” Perhaps he wasn’t hungry. Maybe he just wanted to go to bed.

Pulling her a little closer and tucking his face back into her dress, he readied himself to face the rest of the apartment. He took in a steadying breath. “I'll come out there.”

Once he took his hands back, Lauren padded back to the kitchen while he pulled on a pair of joggers.

She had a beautiful filet of salmon plated for him along with some rice and Brussels sprouts.

Though she usually sat at the table while he ate after games, she retreated back to the kitchen.

He hastily swallowed the bite he'd shoved into his mouth and said, “you don't need to…”

She appeared in the doorway, again, the skirt of her flowy white dress swishing around her knees. At the game she'd paired it with a red leather jacket and a pair of chunky black boots, looking every part the stylish WAG. Now, without the rest of the outfit, she looked breezy and beachy. Actually, he thought as his eyes raked over her, she looked a little bit like an angel.

“Don't need to what?” Lauren asked when Timo didn't continue.

Realizing he'd been staring again, he snapped back to himself. “You can stay,” he said, gesturing to the empty chair across from him she usually occupied, “if you want.”

“Do you want me to?”

She didn't ask the question like it was a trick. She asked it like she wanted an answer. Like she wanted to do what he wanted her to do.

When he paused to think, she didn’t look upset. She just patiently waited for an answer, her left foot wrapping around the back of her right ankle. It was a nervous tick of hers he found incredibly endearing.

He found he did want her company. He missed her sitting at the table, her hands always busy, even if she was just wiping the condensation off of a glass of ice water. “Yeah.”

A relieved smile crept onto Lauren’s mouth. As she pulled out the chair across from him and sat down, he took another bite of salmon.

“How did you make this?” he asked, gesturing to the plate with his fork.

“Butter and garlic and a little bit of brown sugar, then baked in the oven,” she said. “It’s my favorite way to make fish.”

“It’s good,” he said.

“I'm glad you like it.”

Another long stretch of not uncomfortable silence passed between them as he continued to eat. Eventually, Lauren relaxed and put her feet in his lap.

When he was done, she reached for his plate only to have him snatch it away.

When she looked into his face, Timo was playfully shaking his head as if she'd been too slow in a game of spoons.

“You cooked,” he said, standing from the table. “I’ll clean.”

After he'd finished the few dishes she'd left, he pulled her into his bedroom and flopped onto the bed.

The giggle she let out as they bounced on the mattress brought a smile to his face.

Not wasting any time, he rolled on top of her, nuzzling his nose into her neck, snuffling like he might find a treat there.

She yelped and squirmed, playfully trying to push him off, but it was hopeless. She may as well have been trying to lift a car.

When he pulled away, they were both panting. Lauren's beautiful smile was still gracing her face and it made Timo’s insides melt.

“I like this dress,” he said, fingering one of the thin straps.

“Thanks. I worried it was a bit much for a game, but then I decided I didn't care.”

He chuckled, “you looked hot.”

“Yeah?” she asked teasingly, wrapping a leg around one of his thick thighs.

Nodding, he leaned down to brush his lips over hers. “Felt like the luckiest guy in the building.”

They kissed for a long time. It wasn’t deeply passionate as it often was between them. This time, it was softer. More of a quiet, loving reassurance.

A while later, feeling suddenly drained, he pulled away and flopped onto his back.

Lauren snuggled into his side, resting her head on his shoulder. “I'm sorry it was a bad day.”

He fiddled with the ends of her hair, thinking. “Thanks for being here.”

“I should have told you I was coming over,” she said quietly. “I thought you'd like some company, but it wasn’t really fair for me to just show up.”

He sighed heavily. “I love your company,” he said quietly as he took her hand in his own, stopping the delicate, ticklish patterns her fingernails were tracing on his chest. “But it would have been nice to know. I would have stopped to burn off some steam.”

She moved to lace their fingers together. “I’ll check in before I come over next time.”

“Thanks.”

After another long stretch of enjoying being held and the warm, soft expanse of his skin, Lauren broke her hand from his grip.

“I could help you burn off steam, you know,” she said as her fingers trailed down his stomach.

The way his muscles flexed in response to her touch and the way his cock jumped at the suggestive tone in her voice, lit him up from the inside out.

Turning his head to look into her face, he asked, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she agreed, biting her lip, “I mean, if you want.”

His voice was a playful growl as he rolled to face her again. “I like the sound of that.”

When their lips met this time, it was hungry and raw.

Desperate in their exploration, his hand shoved her skirt around her hips, groping the flesh of her thighs and ass.

She moaned into his mouth, her own hands clutching at his shoulders.

He wanted to bury himself inside her until everything else about this awful day, this awful week, fell away. He wanted to take her in ways he hadn't yet allowed himself to. He wanted to give and seek pleasure and God, he wanted to —

He pulled away suddenly, one big hand still gripping the flesh of her upper thigh as he panted.

“What’s wrong?”

Closing his eyes for a moment, he shook his head as if to clear it. “I don’t —” His tongue darted out to wet his lips. “I don’t want to be too rough.”

The idea that someone could want her this much made Lauren’s ego buzz in her veins. “You can be a little rough.”

His eyes snapped to hers. “You're sure?” he asked, voice suddenly breathy. Dark with longing, his eyes were round with shock.

Nodding, she ran her hand down his arm, tracing the mountains and valleys of muscle with reverent fingers. “I won't break. And I know you won't hurt me.”

The deep faith she expressed in that statement made his heart flutter in his chest.

“I’ll let you know if I want you to stop,” she reminded.

She hadn’t hesitated to tell him she wanted something different in the three months they’d been together. It seemed once she figured he would listen, she wasn’t afraid to speak.

Now, all that was left was to trust himself.

Pulling her closer with the hand still gripping her thigh, he nuzzled her ear. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she said before her own mouth traced over his jaw. “Show me what you want.”

Her words had a greater effect than she’d expected. Not only did his erection jump against her stomach, his fingers tightened at the same time a noise fell from his mouth like she'd just punched him in the stomach.

Within moments, she found herself on top of him, knees pressing into the mattress on either side of his hips.

Timo watched in awe as Lauren read his mind. Her hands went to the hem of her dress and pulled it over her head. With every new inch of skin exposed, his breathing grew harder, his heartbeat more rapid.

When the fabric cleared over her head, she let it drop off to the side. It pooled on the edge of the bed before gravity took hold and it slithered to the wood floor below.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, hands splayed over the bottom of her rib cage. The bra she wore was strapless, unadorned and just a hint darker than her skin. Her underwear, which he’d felt were made of lace, matched the bra and and, he knew, covered most of her bum. Neither garment was particularly sexy. He knew they were chosen because under her white dress, they would become invisible.

Still, seeing her stripped down this way always made his chest feel tight.

God, how was this even real life? She was the one for him and he he was the one for her and every day he spent with her, every new bump in the road they clambered over together, only served to solidify the fact that the connection between them was dictated by something greater than either of them.

He’d never expected that connection to increase his attraction to her, but the more it solidified, the more beautiful she became. It was a part of the soulmate bond no one had ever described to him before. Maybe it was something uniquely theirs.

Still mooning over their connection and her nearly naked beauty, he didn’t notice her hands moving until they made contact with his shoulders.

Lauren took her time touching his chest — worshiping his beautiful Greek-god-like form, feeling the ridges of muscle living under soft, smooth skin.

“God,” she breathed, glancing into his face. He still had that awed expression on his face that made her feel like she was made of solid gold. “You’re so handsome, Timo.”

Something very near to a blush warmed his cheeks and his smile was almost bashful. She always got a kick out of embarrassing him like this. Out of showering him with compliments while he tried not to puff up with pride.

“You still haven’t told me what you want,” she said when her hands hit the waistband of his joggers.

“I —” his voice broke off when her fingers snuck under the elastic waistband, nails scratching lightly across his skin.

Thoughts racing, he tried to decide what he did want. While having her take care of him, maybe suck his dick and then ride him, sounded nice, he knew what he really needed was to take control. There were so many things going on, so much out of control in his life, he needed to win at something. So, while watching her bounce on his cock was extremely appealing, he found himself telling her, “I want to be in charge.”

Hands stilling from their micro exploration of his hip lines, Lauren met his eyes, “you want to be in charge?” she repeated. Even though she was trying to make it even, her tone still came out hesitant.

It’s not that she didn’t trust Timo. Everything that had happened in their relationship thus far told her he would stop whenever she asked him to, but giving control to someone else wasn’t something she was very good at. It made her anxious.

“I don’t want to tie you down or anything,” he assured.

Anxiety unwound in her chest and she felt her shoulders drop.

He sat up. Propping himself with one hand on the bed behind him, he mouthed at her lips gently until she kissed back.

“Just want to tell you what I want.”

Pulling back from his kiss, she looked into his face, trying to understand what he was trying to say. Wasn’t that the same thing she’d just been asking him to do? Maybe he needed some extra assurance that was okay? It was a rare thing for him to seek any reassurance from her. He was usually so composed and patient.

Timo watched confusion roll over her face as she tried to understand what he meant. He had so many ideas — positions and pressures and things he hadn’t allowed himself to ask for — running through his mind, he wasn’t totally sure where to start or how to explain what he wanted. He’d been speaking English for a long time, but sometimes, certain words or phrases still eluded him.

“New shit,” he finally blurted, the words flying from his mouth without any precursor or context.

“New shit?” she repeated.

“I want to try new things,” he said, finally grasping the contextual words he needed to make sense of his thoughts. “Positions and stuff,” he added on when her head tilted inquisitively.

“Okay.”

In all honesty, Lauren was a little surprised it took them so long to get to this point. She knew from conversations they’d had about their pasts that he had more previous partners than she did, and thought that experience would come into play in their relationship eventually.

“Okay?” he asked, hope burning bright in his eyes.

She smiled, thinking that if this made him this happy, she’d do it all the time.

He was still looking into her face, eyes full of hope. It was time to put him out of his misery. Shuffling closer, she pressed herself against his erection. His eyelashes fluttered. Her lips brushed the shell of his ear as she said, “I want you to tell me what you want.”

Breath rushed from his mouth, relief and joy and excitement all spiking through his body.

“What do you want me to do?” she asked, lips dipping to the smooth skin behind his jaw.

His hands drifted to her sides and he caressed her from the band of her bra to the lace of her underwear. Her skin was smooth and so warm. He couldn't wait to touch all of it.

“Lay on your back,” he instructed.

She slid off of him and he moved with her until he was hovering over her, weight braced on his forearms.

First things first. He leaned down to capture her mouth in a slow, seductive kiss. She moaned as her hands fluttered to his hair once more.

His tongue caressed hers, coaxing her into a dance. At the same time, fitting his body to hers, his erection pressed into her stomach.

God, kissing Timo was a work of art. He was good at it and let her explore in ways other partners hadn’t. He matched her energy and if she wanted, was often content to make out instead of pushing things further.

It even sounded sexy: a prelude to the sound of their bodies joining together.

When he broke away, she was breathless and so turned on, she felt a little feral. If she were braver and this wasn’t about him, she’d just shove his head between her legs. But tonight wasn't for her. The very fact that they'd kissed for so long was more than a little surprising. She'd expected him to jump straight into asking her to go down on him.

Instead, his artists mouth was now slowly caressing and nipping down her neck while his big hands bullied under her rib cage.

She finally realized he was going for the clasps of her bra and thankfully arched her back to give him easier access. When the hooks finally released, Timo grasped the fabric and threw it across the room. He vaguely heard it hit the opposite wall and fall to the floor.

With the offending garment disposed of, he gazed down at her, drinking in her beauty and comfort — the payoff of the trust they'd been building together. Her eyes were dark with desire and her breasts raised and lowered with each gasping breath she pulled into her lungs. As he watched, her little mauve nipples puckered into tight peaks, just begging for his attention.

This was nothing like how Lauren had imagined it would go. She’d been expecting to service him, to take his dick into her mouth and as far down her throat as she could manage, before finishing him off while riding him, or maybe straddling his lap, kissing him senseless while rocking against him in that way he liked so much. In any of the scenarios that had flown through her mind when she offered to help him burn off steam, she hadn’t imagined one in which he was kissing down her chest and sucking one of her pebbled, sensitive nipples into his mouth.

“Oh,” she gasped, her hands darting to either side of his head of their own volition.

Flicking his tongue over the tender peak, Timo reveled in her back arching and her fingers sliding up into his hair. The moan he’d been aiming for finally released when he nibbled gently.

“Timo, oh my god.”

Her left hand stayed in his hair, holding him to her breast, but the other disappeared. It wasn’t long before he felt her tugging at her underwear, trying to shove them off without dislodging him.

The thought of her, so desperate to be naked underneath him, made him groan.

Sliding a heavy hand down her side, his fingers dipped into the other side of her panties and helped her pull them down. He didn’t even pull away to do it.

It was one of the hottest things she’d ever experienced.

While she wrestled to get the underwear fully down and kick them off the bed, he kissed his way over to the other breast.

The ripple of energy that swam through her body as he licked and sucked that tender peak too, had that feral need taking over again. While the pressure inside her body was mounting, begging for release, he seemed content to stay where he was and drive her out of her fucking mind. She couldn’t take it anymore.

It took a moment for him to register the slick sounds, and a moment longer to place them.

Lauren was touching herself. She was touching herself while he continued to lavish her breasts with attention. The thought of it, of her seeking her own pleasure in a way he’d been encouraging since they met, made triumph rumble to life in his chest. At the same time, he wanted to be selfish tonight. He wanted to be the one to pull her over the edge.

She whined when he pulled away.

“Naughty,” he admonished with a playful wink as his fingers gently surrounded her wrist to pull her hand away from her core.

Lauren flushed hot. He'd told her recently that she should be more selfish with her pleasure, to take what she needed. She’d been trying to take that advice to heart, but maybe she'd taken it too far.

When Timo took the fingers that had just been sliding through her folds into his mouth, the embarrassment heating her skin boiled into lust.

He sucked her slick off with apparent relish, going so far as to swirl his tongue around each digit.

An “oh,” squeaked from her mouth.

After pulling her fingers from his mouth, he licked his lips as if savoring the last bite of a delicious meal.

He'd never liked the way a woman tasted until her. She was sweet with a hint of tang and salt. Before her, going down on a woman had felt like a chore, a duty to make things fair and equitable. With Lauren, he wanted it. He craved making her come with his mouth. It was what she liked best, and he took pride in being the best thing for her.

“That's my job tonight,” he said, voice turned gravelly and rough.

Pleasing her was a game he always wanted to win.

With the stack of losses and called off goals looming over his head, Lauren figured it was a good time to practice her selfishness and get herself warmed up while he took what he wanted. She hadn’t expected him to want to get her off. She definitely hadn’t expected him to shift down the mattress, trailing his lips over her skin as his strong, broad shoulders forced her thighs further apart.

“Oh,” she breathed again as his nose trailed down her stomach and his lips pressed a tender kiss to the top of her seam.

“This is okay?” he asked. The lilting way he asked it made him sound more Swiss than usual. This is…okay? The call back to his home country made her smile.

“Yes,” she whispered.

A wolfish grin spread over his face before his tongue snaked out to part her folds.

This, these first few caresses, were Timo’s favorite part to watch. The first time he’d gone down on her, her pleasant surprise had nearly matched his own. Now that she knew he wasn’t a selfish lover, and they’d built more trust between them, her guard came down quicker and quicker every time.

Keeping his eyes trained on her face, he licked through her again, pressing and dragging the flat surface of his tongue from her entrance all the way up, making sure to flick the nub of her clitoris with the tip of his tongue.

She moaned and writhed on the bed. Sheets clutched in her hands, her back arched. She was so responsive and he loved that about her. He loved watching pleasure take over her body.

When he sucked her sensitive pearl between his lips, her own mouth fell open in an exaggerated O, but only a breathy grunt came out.

He watched her face for a little longer before turning his full attention to the task at hand and, burrowing deeper, licked into her entrance.

Lauren groaned, “fuuuck.”

She hardly ever dropped the F-bomb in normal life, but something about sex with Timo brought it out of her every time. There just weren’t any other words that adequately expressed what he was doing to her, how good he was making her feel.

A pleased hum vibrated against her, into her, and she moaned again. She had absolutely no complaints with this soulmate pairing.

“That feels so good,” she sighed as he eased off.

When he went down on her, he did this thing, a constant push and pull with the fire he was stoking in her body. Fanning the flames, only to take half a step back to let them ignite and burn even brighter.

When he dove in again, making sure to press his nose to her clit the way she liked, her voice climbed in both pitch and volume.

Her hips jumped, and he had to snake his hands around her thighs to hold them steady. She liked to grind against him, but if she kept bucking like that, she was going to knock him off.

He held her just enough that she was forced to gently roll her hips. It still felt incredible. She hadn't been wrong the night they met: rubbing her clit on his nose while he ate her out was one of the best things she'd ever experienced.

“Oooh,” she moaned.

He pulled back again, moving his mouth back up to suck and lave at her. She swore again, and he felt her skin grow hot under his touch.

She was nearly there.

“Come for me,” he said. It came out like a prayer, like he was pleading for something holy.

As he dipped back down again so she could grind against him, Lauren felt her legs begin to tremble.

“God, you're —” she gasped. “Oh, fuck.”

He said something into her that felt suspiciously like, “mhm.”

The promise of pleasure curled tighter and tighter in her belly until it felt like it might just tear her apart.

He tenderly squeezed her hips, as if giving her permission to let go.

She never thought of herself as the type to need permission, but as soon as it was given, the coiling spring snapped and relief unraveled through her.

As his glorious mouth continued working, now back up to gently caressing her folds, a feeling of contentment, of peace and assurance that she was exactly where she needed to be, buzzed under her skin.

Timo pulled away when her core stopped fluttering against his mouth. She was collapsed back on the bed, her long ponytail fanned over his bedspread as she gasped for breath.

The feeling of accomplishment, of winning, finally filled his chest with pride.

Lauren’s eyes cracked open just in time to see him wiping his face with one big palm. His beard was still shiny with her release when he wiped his hand on his gray joggers.

“Holy shit,” Lauren gasped, eyes still trained on his face, trying to reconcile the reality of what was happening with what she’d expected.

A proud smirk pulled at his lips as he leaned over her, stopping a breath from her mouth.

Just like that, anticipation was simmering under her skin again.

Before she could get any words out, he cut her off with a searing kiss.

A pleasured whine crawled up her throat as she got lost in the sensations: tasting herself on his tongue, the sexy sound of their mouths joining and parting, the feel of his big body above hers, the light dancing behind her closed eyelids.

Timo could feel himself beginning to unravel. He wanted her so much, it was getting harder and harder to not rut his hard cock against her. Even the promise of new things to come was losing it’s power.

Finally gathering his strength, he broke away and watched her gorgeous green eyes flutter open. “Ready?” he asked. He wasn’t about to let himself come without trying at least one of the positions he’d been dreaming about.

“Ready?” she repeated.

“For new things,” he reminded. Now that he’d won at that game, he wanted to play some more of his own.

She blinked slowly, as if recentering herself before nodding.

That proud smile crept back onto his face.

“What do you want?”

“On your stomach?”

Nodding again, Lauren rolled, smiling when she felt his hand gliding over her back.

“On your knees,” he said, gently patting her bum.

Pulling her knees underneath her, she felt her ponytail flop to one side. Timo was still moving behind her, getting out of his pants, she assumed, so she took the time to redo it.

Watching as she smoothed her hair and rewrapped the elastic, Timo was reminded of another dream he’d had. Not just of taking her in this position and feeling deeply connected, but also pulling pleasure out of her neither of them expected. The need to see it fulfilled scorched through his gut.

“Like this?” she asked, bringing him back to the present moment.

She was on her hands and knees in front of him, looking better than any dream version of her ever had. “Ja.” The word left his mouth on a sigh.

Lauren felt herself flinch when his hand made contact with her foot. It’s Timo, she reminded. As he brushed up her ankle, she felt herself relax under his soothing touch.

Taking his time to stroke over her calf and up her thigh to the swell of her hip, the anxiety he was feeling to be inside her in this new way made his cock twitch impatiently.

“No condom is okay?” he verified as his right hand continued its reverent exploration, up her side, then down her back and curving over her bum. The left stayed still, cradling her hip.

She’d had a copper IUD put in more than a month before, but he still asked every time. “Yes.”

The word rang in his mind like a bell.

She felt the bed shift behind and under her before his hands guided her hips a little higher.

Pausing to take a centering breath, Timo asked, “you’ll tell me if you don’t like something?”

Lauren could sense him behind her. The heat of his body, the tingling awareness of his presence, the sure, gentle grip of his hands.

She nodded.

“Okay,” he squeezed her hips as a kind of warning and slid himself through her folds to get her used to the feeling of him behind her.

As his head tipped back, want hollowed out under his tongue. She felt so good already.

She moaned and shifted her hips back into him.

Taking that as permission, he notched the head of his cock to her entrance and eased forward.

Despite experiencing her in the familiar position of missionary and cowgirl for the first time with nothing between them, he was still overwhelmed with sensation. She was hot and so goddamn wet, and she was gripping him like she never wanted him to go. She felt perfect around him.

Feeling his hips come to rest against her ass, Lauren reveled, “so deep.”

He grunted in response as if he’d lost all power of speech beyond basic neanderthal.

After two more gentle thrusts, getting her and himself used to the new position, Timo snapped his hips.

Lauren cried out as she was pitched forward. He must have known it was more surprise than anything because he did it again, pulling her hips back to meet his thrust this time.

“Oh, god,” she moaned. She’d never felt anything like this. It wasn’t anything like making love but it also wasn’t not making love. She felt his care, his desire in every stroke. And in this position, he was stroking over parts of her she didn’t even know she had. Put her on her knees and all of a sudden he was playing her like a violin, building pleasure with every pass.

His responding groan seemed to offer a resounding agreement.

Quite suddenly, his thrusts slowed to a tortuously slow pace.

“Can I pull your hair?”

She looked back over her shoulder and he couldn't have held in the deep groan that crawled up his throat, even if he tried.

With her big green eyes looking innocently up to his, the contrast of her expression against their very compromising position had him practically panting. She looked so sexy.

“Just to pull it?”

“Yeah, and…” he had to pause to get his thoughts straight. “To pull you up,” he explained patting his chest.

“Oh.” That seemed crazy, but also kind of hot. “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Let’s try it.”

“You'll let me know if you don't like it?”

“Uh hu,” she said shifting her hips back, trying to get him to speed up again.

He breathed a curse. She couldn’t quite tell which language it was in. If it wasn’t Swiss German, his accent was thick enough that it may as well have been.

Gripping her hips. Timo thrust deeply a few more times before reaching for her hair.

Every time she had it up like this — in a long, smooth ponytail — he thought about this very thing. About taking her from behind and pulling her hair. Not because he wanted to hurt her, but because he thought she might like it. Because she would let him.

He gripped the thick tail in his fist and wound it over the back of his hand before pulling. Gently at first, then harder when her back arched and she moaned.

She'd been right. It was a little weird. But the pain also somehow increased the pleasure thrumming through her body. She had no idea that would happen.

And good God, it was so hot to be moved around like that. To be moved exactly how and where he wanted. It spoke of control, but in a way that always had an underlying current of safety. She'd never felt anything like it.

Extracting his sweaty hand from her hair took longer than he'd like to admit, but once it was free, he slithered it around her ribcage and up her chest to the base of her throat. Wrapping his fingers around her delicate neck, he didn't squeeze. He knew she wouldn't like that. He just held her flush to him so their skin rubbed and sparked with every roll of his hips.

Then, she tapped his thigh three times.

He stilled immediately.

They'd devised this code for when one of them wanted a pause. It wasn't a full safe word, more of a warning that something needed to be adjusted before they could continue. He'd used it himself a few times when he needed her to be in a different position.

For Lauren, most of the time, it meant she needed a moment to catch her breath. Sometimes she asked him to move differently.

This time, her hand reached up to pull his away from her neck.

She gasped as if he had been constricting her airway. “Can’t be there.”

He didn't resist as she moved his big hand to her chest, encouraging his fingers to curl around her left breast.

“This is okay?” he asked, squeezing gently.

A deep, calming breath filled her lungs. “Uh hu.”

Anxious to make sure she was comfortable, he verified, “and this is okay?” as his hips thrust, softer than before.

“Yes,” she moaned.

She hadn’t expected for it to feel so good this way. The position meant that she felt his every move. Not just the way each thrust dragged the head of his cock over her front wall where it was spongy and sensitive, but the flex of his stomach as he moved and the heavy breaths shaking his chest as it pressed to her back.

The thought of stopping was ludicrous. “Please, Timo.”

His responding grunt was a puff of hot breath in her ear as he moved with more focused intent.

He was strong enough to hold her to him and help her move up and down, and it felt incredible to be so supported and guided, to feel so close together.

His other hand, which had been gripping her hip, traveled up her arm where she was holding the back of his neck. Pulling gently, he guided their hands down, fingers entwined, until they slipped between her legs to toy with her clit.

She gasped as another layer of pleasure, somehow thicker and more encompassing than before crashed over her in a wave.

Pulling his hand back, his fingers, wet with her arousal, left trails that burned hot, then quickly cooled against her skin as his hand drifted back to her hip. His voice was a low lumber in her ear as he said, “touch yourself for me.”

Unable to help herself, she quipped, “I thought that was your job?”

A laugh huffed out of him. “Don’t have enough hands right now, so I'm trusting you to step in,” he said, once again guiding her up and down.

She snorted, but her fingers diligently went to work, pulsing on the bundle of nerves in a way that made her quake around him.

He groaned, loud and deep.

Her head fell back, tipping against his shoulder, so her neck was stretched lovely and long.

Her breath came out in feminine grunts and gasps as her free hand desperately fumbled for purchase, eventually grasping at his forearm where it crossed over her body.

This was everything Timo wanted. It was Lauren in a position he’d been dreaming about since before he met her, falling apart as a result of his orchestration.

As soon as their bond had manifested, he started dreaming about her. Dreams of falling in and making love. Of getting to know her and pleasing her. Of the most intense, intimate pleasure he'd ever known.

He'd woken up with hard ons again and again and again, the longing to meet her thrumming under his skin like an electrical current. The dreams replayed in his mind all the time. Now that he knew Lauren, his brain simply inserted her into all of those dreamy scenarios where he'd only seen someone vaguely feminine before.

He thought about and relived the dreams so often when they were apart, he was aching to see them come to fruition.

And now she was here, falling apart in his arms and it was better than any dream. It was more real than any of the encounters with women who were also bonded but had yet to meet their mate. Those encounters had been physically satiating but his first time with Lauren had been so much more. It had finally quelled a hunger that had been yawning inside him since that first bruise appeared on his skin.

Her skin, burning hot against his, and her little gasped, “oh, oh, Timo,” told him she was seconds from falling apart around him.

“Don’t stop,” she begged, “please don’t stop.”

Like he’d ever stop when he could tell she was so close. When he was so close to turning a dream into reality.

When the spring finally snapped, unfurling pleasure through every inch of her body, Lauren clung on, letting him support and guide her through it. Her fingers, slick with her own release, grabbed his thigh for grounding.

Sounds he didn’t know he could make, growling and desperate, punched from his gut as her nails dug into to his quad muscles. That painful pleasure, combined with the way she fluttered around him, hurled him over the edge.

When he came, his groan of pleasure reverberated through his chest and into her back as he filled her. It was quite possibly the sexiest thing she’d ever felt.

Legs turned to jelly and still clinging to her, Timo fell heavily on his side to avoid crushing her under his weight.

“Fuck,” he groaned into her hair.

“Yeah,” she gasped, wiggling in his embrace until she was able to lay on her back.

Following suit, he flopped back to starfish on his half of the bed. “Holy shit.”

“Holy shit good? Or holy shit bad?”

“How could that…be bad?”

“I mean, do you —” she broke off to gasp another breath, “feel better?”

Unable to stop it, a giggle bubbled out of him. Did he feel better? Was the sky blue?

“That’s a yes?” she asked, fumbling around until she found his hand and entwined their fingers.

“Yes.” Bringing their clasped hands to his mouth, he kissed the back of hers. “Thank you.”

Rolling onto her side, Lauren studied his profile. “I feel like I should be thanking you.”

Timo tipped his head to look at her, bushy eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

“I didn’t think…I mean,” pulling her hand from his, she cupped his jaw and ran her thumb over his cheek. “When I offered to help you burn off steam, I didn’t really expect to get off, let alone to get off twice.”

“Why wouldn’t you get off?” he asked, moving closer.

“I kind of thought you'd just ask me to suck you off,” she admitted.

His response was immediate, without much thought on his part, “that's for celebrating.” The words rang true.

“Noted,” she said with a mischievous little smile that had anticipation curling in his gut again. Now he just needed something to celebrate for.

Reveling in the afterglow for a while longer, Timo gazed into her eyes. After a while, he said what he’d been thinking about all night. “I used to dream about you.”

“You did?” Readjusting, Lauren moved her forearm under her head as a pillow.

He nodded, one of his big hands sliding from her hip to the curve of her waist. “When our connection opened, I dreamed about you all the time.”

There was a hypnotic quality to his voice. Relaxed and fond, it sounded like he was pulling a blanket over them, cocooning them in love and comfort.

“What did you dream about?” Lauren asked, her voice dropped to a whisper.

“Loving you,” he said. “Making love to you.”

“I dreamed about you that way, too.”

“You did?”

Lauren nodded. Her hand that had been cradling his jaw slipped into his sweaty hair, pushing it back from his face. “You’re better than all of them.”

“All of what?” Timo asked, watching her face as he felt her fingers trail over the back of his skull and around his neck.

Her palm came to rest on his chest. “All the dreams,” she said simply.

He was sure she could feel the way his heart fluttered at her words. Giddy butterflies took flight in his stomach.

“So are you,” he whispered, pulling her closer so he could press a soft kiss to her lips.

When he pulled back, the reality of what they had just said washed over her and a blush flushed down her neck. “When did we get so sappy?”

Laughing, Timo pushed himself up to sitting. “You need to get up,” he said, playfully poking her thigh.

“Do I?” she asked, stretching her arms over her head.

“Yes. You need to use the toilet,” he said.

He was infuriatingly right. Even though she wanted nothing more than to stay in his bed for the rest of the night, the last thing she needed was a UTI.

Before she could get to the bathroom, he was hugging her from behind. All that warm skin pressed against her back sent her mind right back into bed.

“If you can’t be sappy with your soulmate, are they really your soul mate?” he teased before nuzzling her neck.

Lauren laughed. It was melodic and light and he loved it.

“I’ll start the shower,” he said, playfully swatting her butt. “Unless you’d rather have a bath.”

“I can’t. I need to go feed the cats. I haven’t been home yet today.”

She’d come over to make him dinner when she hadn’t even been home? The profound care in her actions stopped him in his tracks for a moment. By the time he got back to himself and started the shower, Lauren was by his side again.

“I think we should move in together,” he said.

“But the cats,” she said hesitantly. She knew she’d have to give them up eventually if his allergy didn’t improve, but she’d been pushing that thought down the road, not quite ready to face it.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said, pulling her under the spray with him. “I’ll get those shots or something.”

“Oh,” she said, touched to her core. “So we’ll move in here?”

“Animals aren’t allowed here. I’ll have to come to you.”

Turning in a slow circle to rinse off, Lauren cast him an assessing look. “I don’t think I have enough closet space for you.”

He scoffed.

“I’m serious, Timo,” she said as they switched places.

“Then we’ll find somewhere new,” he said with a shrug. “Start over together.” He said it like it was the easiest problem he’d ever solved.

“I like the sound of that,” she said, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips.

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The rational part of Timo's brain new that the argument was stupid, the other side of his brain told him he had to win this argument.

"Babe it's not that deep" Timo says for the fifth time.

"Yes it is" you reply with a huff.

"I can't just not go" Timo says, "Nico is engaged and this is his bachelor party."

"But at a strip club?" You ask

"That was Luke's idea he planned it" Timo replies.

"I know you love Nico but I don't approve of you going" you say.

Timo let's out a frustrated huff, "I'm a grown man, I can be trusted."

"I know you can, your not the one I don't trust, I don't trust the other girls who will be there" you reply.

Timo looks at you, how tense you are and how drained you look from this argument, so he does something irrational. Timo pulls you in for a kiss, you immediately kiss him back as he deepens the kiss and pushes you against the nearest wall.

"Timo" you gasp as he starts kissing your neck.

"Your so hot when your angry" he says before taking your shirt off, he groans when he sees your not wearing a bra. Timo leans down and wraps his lips around your nipple before sucking, you moan softly.

"Timo this doesn't resolve the argument" you say as he switches breasts and swirls his tongue around the hardened peak.

Timo ignores what you say as he pulls away from your breast, he takes his shirt off before looking at you, "Can I take your pants off?"

"Yes please" you reply, Timo immediately removes your pants and panties before taking the rest of his clothes off.

"Such a pretty pussy baby" He says as he gets on his knees and puts one of your legs of his shoulder before diving in and eating you out.

You moan and thread your fingers through Timo's hair as he inserts a finger "More please" you beg.

Timo inserts another finger causing you to moan, "Taste so sweet baby" Timo says into your cunt.

You moan his name before he pulls his fingers out causing you to whine, "Timo."

"Patience baby" he says standing and placing a kiss on your lips, "Turn around and brace yourself on the wall."

You turn around and place both hands on the wall, before Timo spreads your legs and lines his cock with your entrance before sinking into you slowly.

You moan as Timo fills you up, he starts thrusting slowly before picking up the pace. Your moans encourage him it doesn't take long before he wraps a hand around your throat and squeezes lightly he takes his other hand and starts circling your clit.

"I can feel you getting close" he says, "cum for me baby."

You moan loudly as you cum all over his cock, Timo groans before he's cumming filling you up.