"I've never met anyone like you."

"I could say the same about you," I countered.

"This is a new one. Setting up boundaries beforehand? You know exactly who you are, don't you?" His expression was wide-eyed and filled with excitement.

"I'm workin' on it."

"Amazing," he breathed, before he leaned down to kiss me. I broke away from him to sit up, and began trailing soft kisses over his abs, then ran my hands around his waist and down over his boxers. He tensed up and groaned again. His hands wound through my hair then to my face, tilting it up, and he leaned down and kissed me. I pulled away and slid to the top of my bed. I needed him to know I was just as into this as he seemed to be. I removed my shirt and called him over with the crook of my finger.

At first he just stood there, and I wondered if he was having second thoughts, but then his smile grew wide. He climbed on to the bed and lay down next to me. His lips found mine while he ran his hand down my stomach and stopped at the top of my panties. By that time I was about to bust with frustration, so I nudged him with my hips. That's all it took. His hand began to move again and he kissed me like I'd never been kissed before.

Pratt Montgomery has a sexy-as-hell side.

I had fallen asleep, and when I woke my nose was buried in Pratt's neck. He was on his side facing me, with one arm stretched out under me and the other resting on my side. I fit in there perfectly. I slid myself out and tried to move quietly to go use the bathroom, but he opened his eyes and grinned.

"Sneaking off on me, Princess?"

I leaned over and stole a quick kiss. "I gotta pee."

"Everyone's home now," he informed me. "Just so you know."

"What? Why didn't you leave, then?"

"Well, your jeans make my ass look big, so I couldn't go anywhere." He was clearly amused by his own joke, judging by his devilish grin.

I slapped his arm lightly and laughed quietly. "You got jokes, huh Eighty-Six?" I teased.

"Well, my clothes aren't in here, remember? Boxers only." He pointed to his lack of apparel.

"Right. Shit. Okay. When I go to the bathroom I'll grab them. Where are they?" I found my shirt, then took a pair of shorts out of my drawer and put them on.

"Trent's room, on the floor behind the door." He sat up and extended his arm, and I went to him. He fiddled with my fingers, not looking up. "What will you say if he asks where I am?"

"Nothing. I can ignore Trent, or lie." I answered. "Besides, it's none of his business." I shrugged and closed the door behind me.

After I used the bathroom I ran down the hall, grabbed the pile of clothing behind Trent's door, and headed back to my room. I opened the door and threw them at Pratt, told him I'd be downstairs, and asked him to give it a few minutes before coming down.

Nobody even asked where Pratt was, and when he finally did come down my dad assumed he'd been napping. Apparently, that was the excuse he'd used to get out of the pick up gamehe was tired. It was so hard to keep a straight face while he talked to them. I was right back to four hours ago, before things officially changed between us.

To make sure I didn't give anything away with my facial expressions, I went back upstairs to get ready to go shopping. I found myself thinking about how things had changed so quickly. I tried to pinpoint when, but I couldn't. It was like this snowball rolling downhill, getting bigger and bigger with every passing second. Each new thing he surprised me with, I found myself liking him more and more.

I pulled some clean clothes out of my drawer and put them on, then went to brush my teeth. While brushing I stared back at myself in the mirror and laughed, thinking about what Lola had said right before I left: "Go get laid or something." Well, I had the or something part covered. When Pratt and I were together earlier, all we'd done was mess around. I'm not a first date type of chick. I'm not even a second or third date kind of chick. I have to think you're going to stick around a while if I'm giving it up. I guess that's why I hadn't had very much of that over the last four years.

And that was also why I'd worried when I first started to get that anxious feeling in my belly when Eighty-Six came into a room or touched me. Up until today, he had only touched me when I was about to bust my ass or when I was handing him his ass on a snow tube. I'm sure being a good-looking guy and a star hockey player presented him with opportunities now and again. Ha. Now and again? Try all the time. I'd been worried that would be an issue, but it wasn't. He didn't even tryhe'd let me set the boundaries. When it came to him, they were hard even for me to stick to, and they were my own rules. Talk about inner conflict.

I grabbed my purse and went back downstairs. "Dad, I'm going to the mall," I shouted in the direction of the living room. I heard him call out goodbye, and then I found the guys in the kitchen.

"Hold up," Trent said. "We're going to Hat Trick's later onwanna go?"

Pratt was leaning on the counter eating an apple. "Yeah Princess, wanna go?" He winked at me and I hid my smile by pretending I was looking for something in my purse.

"Sounds good. I'll be back by nine," I answered, before I walked out the door.

As I started the car my text alert went off. It was Pratt, sending me one of the selfies we took together before I fell asleep. I had to admit, we were pretty cute together. My mom was right. I could do a lot worse than Prattbecause he was setting the standard pretty damn high.

Chapter 6.

As I walked around the mall checking everything out, I was having a difficult time trying to find something for my mom. Everyone else around me made it look so easy. One lady walked by me, barely able to hold the bags she had, and the three kids with her had their hands full as well. I did enjoy watching people shop at the holidays. The way their faces light up when they find the perfect gift for someone, or how husbands cringe when they enter a store because they know what's about to go down. Or the ones who know there's no sense in fighting it, so they follow behind carrying packages and bags. I lived within my means all year long, which wasn't much, but I made for damn sure I always put money away for the holidays. I enjoyed gift giving.

My dad was easy peasy to shop for. I get him a new sweater every yearit's all he wants. I changed it up one year, and he looked disappointed. Of course he said he wasn't, but I could tell. Now 2009 is referred to as the 'London got Dad a wallet' year. But Mom was much harder. I think it was because she loved so many things. What I really wanted to get her was a day at a spa or something, but she isn't into that stuff. So instead I was stuck with what I knewwhich ended up being a turquoise necklace with matching earrings and a bracelet. Also, two knitted fluffy neck wraps. She really needed to be bundled up when it was cold. I knew she'd love them. Trent was like shopping for a ten-year-old childvideo games and a hockey jersey was all he required to appease him on Christmas morning. It may have sounded mundane, but they always loved their gifts.

Then my 'family' gift was a picture of us all, from when we were visiting with Jon, a college hockey buddy of my dad's, and his wife Terri. We stayed with them at their 'off the grid' cabin up by the Boundary Waters. It was right after my mom had been cleared the second time, and we went up there to unwind for two weeks. I was having it made into a big mounted canvas print for our den. When I went in to drop off the picture I had to fill out some paperwork and wait for the guy to get back with my written receipt for payment and pick up. While I waited, I was messing with my phone, and decided to set the pic that Pratt sent me as my wallpaper. I'd never done anything like that before so it felt really strange, but satisfying at the same time. I thought maybe I was acting too fast or desperate . . . but I ultimately decided I was just behaving like a happy person did. It wasn't as if people were ever in my phone, anyhow.

While I was fiddling around with my settings I got a text alert. It was Trent, asking when I'd be back. They were hungry, and wanted to get out of the house already. I texted him back that I was leaving in ten minutes. I'd finished shopping for everyone, so it didn't bug me that he was rushing me. I'd even managed to get Pratt something on such short notice. I had planned to get him a membership to the Jelly of the Month Club before I got to know him. Lucky for him he graduated to flannelI got him a new flannel shirt. In all honesty, I was being selfish. Technically, that was a gift for me, being how much I enjoyed watching him wear one.

As I pulled into the driveway I saw him sitting on the front porch steps, looking down at the ground. It wasn't until I got out and began walking towards him that I realized he was on the phone.

"I gotta go. I'll talk to you later." He stood and slid his phone into his pocket. "Hey there. Here, let me help you." He took the bags out of my hands and looked behind him.

"What's wrong?" I moved my head to look behind him, but he gave me a quick kiss before I could see anything.

"Nothing's wrong. I just wanted to make sure nobody was looking," he said with a smile. Just then Tuna came barging out the storm door and right to me. Luckily he didn't knock me over this time. I gave him a pat on the head, then headed inside with Pratt right behind me.

"Hey kids," my mom greeted us from the kitchen.

We went in to see her. "Hey, Mom. How was the fundraiser luncheon?" I replied.

"Hey, Mrs. S," Pratt said.

"Pratt, how many times do I need to tell you? Please, sweetheart, call me Linda." She sounded exasperated.

"Mom, you okay?" I rushed over to her.

"Oh yeah, I'm fine. I was just looking for Nana's banana pudding recipe, and, well . . . I realized the cabinets were an unorganized nightmare. The luncheon was great. Had a nice time seeing everyone." She waved her hand as if to dismiss it. Even though she was cancer-free, she still had immune issues from all the past treatments, and she tired easily. It was a small price to pay to have her here, but she got frustrated sometimes.

"Where's Trent?" Pratt asked.

"Trent's here," my brother answered as he came down the stairs.

Pratt took off his hat and rubbed the back of his head, sending his shaggy curls into disarray. He looked stressed out. "Man, I don't want to go out tonight. How about tomorrow? I just want to stay in and chill. Watch a movie or something."

"You've gotta' be shitting me, dude. We've been in this house for six days now. We need to get out for a while."

"You were just out with Dad, you fool," I pointed out to him. "Don't even try the cabin fever shenanigans."

"Exactly. Out with Dad," Trent said through his teeth, and widened his eyes.

"Well, I'm tired," I said. "Shopping and the crowds wore me out. Tomorrow would work better for me, too. Plus, Friday nights are two-dollar drafts. That's more your style, eh?" I played it cool, trying to convince him.

"Fine," Trent agreed. "But don't bail on me again." He grabbed a banana and headed back upstairs. I could see the tension ease from Eighty-Six's face, and his knuckles start to unclench.

"Trent, give me back that banana," Mom shouted after him. "It's for Nana's recipe."

"You can't even find it, Mom," he teased her as he ran up the stairs.

"He has a point," she conceded.

When my parents went off to bed I decided to catch up on one of my shows, binge style. I could hear the guys in Trent's room, yelling things like 'get my flank and RPG you dumbass'. Either they were playing a video game, or they were saving the world right from the bedroom. I'm way more fun than saving the world. Stupid boys and their stupid toys. I hoped Pratt would make it down to hang out with me at some point after he was done playing.

I showered, made a salad, and grabbed some water before heading to the den to start my binge-a-thon. About an hour into it I went to use the bathroom, and when I came back Eighty-Six was on the couch reading the info about my show.

"Hey you," I greeted him. I was surprised to see himI'd started to think he'd be up there with Trent all night.

"The president is having an affair with the speechwriter and there's a spy in the White House threatening to expose them all unless his uncle is freed from a maximum security prison on Mars run by aliens who suck the life out of humans to fuel their own worldly needs?" He laughed. "What kind of crazy shit is this?"

"There are no aliens, doofus," I joked.

"Come here." He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me down on his lap. I felt so tiny with his arms around me, like he could ball me up and shove me in his pocket. I felt . . . happy.

"I'm glad you could take a break from the war you were waging upstairs with Trent," I teased him.

He smirked. "I was thinking of you the entire time."

"While you were blowing people up or yelling at the 14-year-olds on the other end of the mic to suck it up buttercup, your mommy ain't here to protect you. Go in and shoot that mofo' like a soldier." I laughed while I repeated something along the lines of what I heard him say earlier.

"Ah, touche Princess. You've seen the monster in me," he joked, and squeezed me tighter. "Thanks for helping me out earlier." He gave me a kiss.

"Yeah, no problem. I could tell something was bothering you. Wanna talk about it?" I asked cautiously. I didn't know if he was a talker or a stuffer, and I didn't want to push him too hard.

"It's nothing really. My aunt called to let me know someone stopped by her house to see me, and was asking how I was. It caught her off-guard was all, and she wanted to let me know." He shrugged his shoulders.

He has an aunt who's still alive. That's good news. I wonder why he isn't with her.

"Is she upset that you're here?" I asked.

"No. We haven't seen each other in a while. I stayed with her for about a week after the accident, and then I went back to school. I know she loves me . . ." He paused and exhaled loudly. "It's just hard for her to look at me because I resemble my father so much . . . her brother. I'm sort of a constant reminder that our entire family was wiped out in the blink of an eye."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry. I'll shut up now." I tried to climb off his lap but he held on to me.

"You aren't prying, London. You're caring. I like caring." He gave a small, thin-lipped smile. "It's been a while since someone cared." He buried his face in my neck and squeezed me tight.

Oh shit. Is he okay? London, keep him talking because if he cries or explodes you won't know what to do.

"Don't cry on me, please," I blurtedand was immediately mortified to hear that coming out of my mouth. Smooooooth London, fucking smooooth. "I mean . . . I . . . I didn't mean it like. . . . aahhh fuck. I don't know what I meant. I'm sorry. I panicked." I stuttered through the sentence like a bumbling idiot.

"I have no idea what you're going on about, but don't worry. I'm not going to cry." He looked at me and gave a laugh.

"My family adores you, Pratt. You'll always be welcome here. . . . no matter what." I added the 'no matter what' because if things didn't go anywhere with us, or if this was just some vacation fling thing to him, I didn't want him to feel like he couldn't come back.

"You hesitated," he said, and his breath tickled my neck. I squirmed and laughed.

"I hesitated?"

"Yeah, as if you were unsure about me and you. You know . . . 'no matter what'." He quoted my words back at me.

"I didn't want to jump to conclusions and cause more stress for you . . . pressure you into something. I don't know. I was just being cautious." I shrugged, and he lifted his head and pressed his forehead against mine.

"Who'd have ever thought, Princess?" His eyes crinkled up like he was smiling.

"I know, right?" I agreed and stood up; his arms were still locked behind my back though, so I couldn't go far. As he pulled me in again I straddled him, then wrapped my arms around his neck.

"This is going to be too easy," he said.

"Hey now! Too easy?" I smacked his arm. I wasn't sure if I should be angry, offended or laughing.

"Oh. No, not like that. I'm sorry. My think-to-speak button is busted. Not like that, London. What I meant was, too easy to fall in love with you." He said it soft and close to my lips . . . and then he kissed me. He kissed me like his being depended on it, and it made me feel as if I was the most important person in the world to him. Like I mattered in so many more ways than just a fling. He kissed me like we had a future together.

Oh Lord, save me. Pratt Montgomery, you're making it too easy on me now.

Chapter 7.

I woke to the sensation of the couch shaking and the sound of my brother's voice. By the time I was alert enough to open my eyes, I didn't want to. The couch kept shaking though, like something was being bounced off of it.

"Quit kicking me, man," Pratt said loudly. "What's your problem?"

"My problem is you're sprawled out on the couch with my sister sprawled out on you." Trent's voice was louder.

"Trent, stop," I said. "It's not what you think. We were binge watching 'A Presidential Affair' and we fell asleep. I must have just gotten comfortable while I was sleeping."

Trent looked at Pratt while Pratt looked at me. I didn't make any moves or facial expressionsI just sat waiting for him to answer my brother.

"Yeah man, I'm sorry. It wasn't like that at all," Pratt said. "We just conked out." He sounded convincing enough.

"Ahh, I'm just busting chops. I don't care, dude. London's a big girl and uses good judgment. Besides, you're a good guy." Trent gave Pratt a slap on the shoulder.

That's surprising; I guess Trent knew I could do a lot worse than Pratt too.