Page 48 of He Has Charm (Boston Brawlers Hockey)
Fifteen
Maddox
Finally I let myself in the front door late after being away three nights on the two-game road trip. I feel good about hockey, having scored two goals in the first game and a goal and assist in the second game—not the hat trick Harper asked for—but I sensed the excitement in her voice anyway when I called before we got on the plane. It was a crazy lark to call her, but all the other guys were making calls to the ladies they had waiting back home and it occurred to me I had someone waiting for me I could call too. So when in Rome, right? It doesn’t mean anything.
If it wasn’t two a.m. I’d go looking for her, but as it is, I close the door quietly. In the dimly lit hall I notice the boxes all gone and smile. Of course she finished unpacking. I hope she didn’t strain anything in her zealous need to do everything.
But if she did, I’d be glad to give her a nice long and thorough massage. Shit. Lifting my overnight bag so the wheels don’t make a racket on the hardwood floors, I stalk quietly to my bedroom. Whether it’s wise or not, I stop outside her bedroom door and listen. Nothing. No television, no light snoring. No sound of a vibrator buzzing. Fuck. That’s a visual I don’t need right now.
The rush of postgame adrenaline subsided, but barely because I had nowhere to put my energy. No ladies, no drinking, no celebrating unless you count a lot of bawdy revelry in the locker room, which was cool. But it wasn’t enough. Our team fucking kicked ass on this road trip and I want to light up the night with a hallelujah. Preferably in the form of a stupendous orgasm in the arms of a beautiful lady.Named Harper Sugar Buns St. John.
Leaning against her door, I stifle a groan and push myself past her and the image of her fucking tempting eyes and hair and… everything. Every fucking thing about her is sexy and tempting. Especially the way she rambles when she starts to lose control. I push into my room and close the door behind me. I should probably lock it given past experience. Then I scoff. I should be so lucky that she’d repeat her so-called mistake of eavesdropping on me in the shower.
The shower—which is now fixed—and my imagination are my solace tonight and I ought to get used to it. By the time I get to bed it’s after three a.m. and I make sure the alarm on my phone is off and my shades are drawn because I’m sleeping as late as possible. There’s no team practice until three p.m. I plan on being there by one. That means I can sleep till noon. My head hits the pillow and I go with the plan.
* * *
After sleeping late and getting through practice, I get home to find Harper working in the kitchen, and I can’t help thinking what a gorgeous sight she is to come home to. She looks up at me and it could go either way whether she’ll scowl or smile. My heart stutters when the smile breaks out. I return it.
“You must be exhausted,” she says, “after getting home so late and then having practice.”
I toss my jacket and bag aside and sit next to her at the island.
“I think I’m more hungry than tired,” I say, and in my head it’s her I want to eat. She gets my meaning and sucks in a breath, backing away. “I’ll cook.”
“You will?”
“Don’t look so shocked. Me and my dad used to cook together all the time. His specialty was pasta and meatballs, but—”
“Great, you should cook that.” She gives me a hopeful smile and I don’t tell her I haven’t cooked that in years because in a way, it’s the pasta and meatballs that killed my dad. That would be a downer and I’m appreciating her smile too much. I’m determined to keep the serious from her face today.
“You got it. I’ll do whatever you want, sugar buns.”
“I think that’s my line—I mean except for the sugar buns part.” She giggles. She actually frigging giggles and it sends a surge of warmth zipping around my gut and straight to my heart. And my heart loves it, maybe even needs her kind of medicine. But that’s wishful thinking and the road to disappointment. Maybe. I shove everything but the here and now aside.
“Let’s pretend you’re the client for the day and it’s my job to please you.” Watching the slow flush creep up her neck to her face sends my body into a different kind of rush. The kind where my dick is in charge. I clear my throat and promise myself to keep it clean.
“Okay.” She dips her head. “I… have to tell you something.” She looks up at me, serious. Shit.
“What is it?” I want to tell her she can tell me anything and it won’t matter because I seem to have a soft spot for her, but I don’t. The knowledge gets clogged in my chest in a big emotional ball and sits there.
“I went out while you were gone,” she blurts, her eyes wide and she looks away.
“And?” That can’t be her big confession.
“And I met some guys,” she says and I feel like she hit me in the gut with a hammer. But what do I say? I can’t say the first thing that comes into my head which isWTFwith a strong hint ofI thought we were in this monastic pledge together. We made no such joint pledge, except in my head I may have assumed things I obviously shouldn’t have and now I feel like I’m bleeding all over the kitchen floor.
“It was nothing—I mean nothing happened. Not that I needed to tell you or anything since we’re not… there’s nothing between us. Not really. Except our contract and we… shared that kiss.”
I’m aware she’s rambling, but I stopped listening after she admitted nothing happened and my heart started beating again at a normal rate, but there was a real stutter for a second and that’s not good. Then when she saysthat kiss, I snap from my close call with panic altogether and smile like it’s no big deal.
“No problem. I’m the one who made the promise to go off sex, not you.” I can afford to be gracious now that I know she didn’t do it. “Why didn’t you take one of those lucky guys home with you?” I’m aware I’m pushing it and not surprised when she scowls, but fuck it. I need to know her reason was me. Maybe I’m vain or narcissistic or conceited or self-absorbed, you name it, anything but emotionally involved, I just need to fucking know.
“I guess I wasn’t interested after all.”
“Why not?”
She lets out a long-suffering sigh.
