Chapter 19
Cole
MY BOYS ARE WICKED SMAHT
LANDON
Y’all better be on your best behavior tonight. I’m making my famous brisket.
MILLER
WOOOO PARTY AT CAPS LFG
ROMAN
I will bring vodka. Real vodka. Not American water pretending to be vodka
COLE
I’ll be there until 12:01.
LANDON
You’ll stay until 12:30 and you’ll smile in the team photo.
COLE
No.
MILLER
You’ll stay until 5AM and then you’ll hit the club with me!!!!!
COLE
This is Boston. There are no clubs open past 1.
After that, you’re supposed to go home and stew in your repressed emotions.
ROMAN
This is why you need a party, my friend. And possibly therapy.
I’m trying to be a man who keeps his promises.
And last month I promised Miller I’d come to Landon’s New Year’s Eve party… as long as Miller refrained from hitting on Cassie.
Not my most mature moment. I tried to frame it as wanting Cassie to be able to do her job without being bothered by the team. Which is true, in part.
But the other part is that I don’t want Miller or my teammates or any other man to have Cassie Wells.
Because I know I can’t have her.
I force myself to ring the buzzer to Cassie’s apartment. It’s the first time I’ve taken a woman to a party in a long time. But somehow it’s not only not a date, but it’s with a woman who is only here by the order of my agent.
“Yeah?” The woman’s voice coming out of the speaker is unfamiliar.
“I’m looking for Cassie.”
“Oh, it’s you. Mr. Hockey Star. Come on up. Cassie’s just getting changed.”
I frown at the speaker. Right. Roommates. After over a decade in the NHL, I’d almost forgotten the horror of having to live with another person.
I bet Cassie likes it, though. Friendly, sweet people-person that she is.
I climb the rickety stairs all the way to the fourth floor because the elevator has a worn ‘out of order’ sign on it.
The building seems like it’s seen better days.
I know I’m lucky to have a job that pays this well, but honestly, money was never my motivation.
I own a nice house in Boston, but part of my heart is always back on the wild, rocky coast of Maine.
I’d happily live out there with just enough money to be comfortable, except I’d miss playing hockey way too much.
Maybe that’s why Cassie’s ass looks so damn good… from climbing all these flights of stairs every day.
I should not be thinking about how Cassie’s ass looks. Shouldn’t be thinking about any part of her body at all. Not her perfect ponytail, or the sweet pout of her lips, or the way her body felt pressed against mine at the pond that night—
The door swings open. The girl on the other side leans against the frame, giving me an unsubtle once-over. She’s sharp-eyed and pretty, with smooth brown skin and long braids under a green beanie.
“So you’re Cole. The famous hockey guy.”
“That’s me.”
She gives me a firm handshake. “Britt. I’m not a sports kind of gal, but Cassie says you’re a big deal or whatever.”
I shrug. I long grew out of the phase of using my hockey credentials to impress other people. I usually leave that to Miller. “Our team hasn’t won a championship in sixteen years.”
“Damn, bro. That sucks.”
“It does suck.”
This seems to be enough to align us as allies, because she nods her head and fully opens the door, waving me in.
I glance around. The apartment is small but cozy.
If I didn’t know Cassie lived here, I could’ve guessed.
Everything is bright and colorful. There’s a yellow throw on the couch, a soft pink and purple bunch of flowers in a vase on the kitchen table, and a big print of some pastel abstract on the wall. I feel lighter just being here.
Cassie appears. She’s wearing a fuzzy blue robe, obviously fresh from the shower. Instead of her usual ponytail, her hair is collected in a messy bun.
My mouth goes dry. Fuck, does she look delicious.
I try very hard to focus, like I’m in the net focusing on the puck. But Cassie in just a robe is a much bigger distraction than an opposing hockey team and thousands of screaming fans.
“Sorry,” she says, “I’m running behind. I was hanging out with my mom earlier and we lost track of time.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not exactly in a rush to get there.” I don’t mention the fact I only agreed to go to stop Miller asking her out. “I know there are probably other New Year parties you’d rather be going to tonight, anyway.”
She shrugs. “Honestly, I usually stay home on New Year’s. Get cozy and curl up with a book. And anyway, if I wasn’t with you tonight, Britt would probably drag me to her party, and her only mission tonight is to get a midnight kiss from the new hot chef from her job.”
Britt snorts. “Yeah, a midnight kiss. Let’s go with that, if we want to keep it PG. Speaking of that, I need to go get ready.”
Britt disappears into her bedroom, and suddenly I’m very aware I’m alone with Cassie in her apartment.
Cassie doesn’t meet my eyes. She glances into the mirror on the wall, arms behind her neck as she fiddles with the chain of the silver necklace sitting against her chest. “Ugh, I can’t get this stupid necklace done up…”
“Let me, sunshine,” I hear myself say.
“Oh. Sure.”
I walk over to where she stands. She bows her head, and the scent of the perfume on her neck hits the air, light and floral and sweet.
The silvery chain feels cool in my hand. Or—is it cold, or is my skin just on fire?
I push the clasp open and hook the other end of the necklace over it. My fingers brush the bare skin, the nape of her neck. Heat surges inside me. Her skin is as smooth as I’d imagined it—which makes me realize just how vividly I’ve imagined it.
Which is a goddamn problem.
Christ, do not get turned on by barely touching a woman’s neck. Think about hockey strategy and Zamboni drivers and lobster fishing.
It doesn’t work. My cock stiffens, and some part of me knows that I’m running out of restraint.
If she gives me any sign tonight that she wants it, I’m going to touch her. Not just her lips. Not just her neck. Whatever she lets me, I’ll eat it the fuck up and thank her for it.
I raise my eyes to the mirror and find Cassie staring at my reflection.
“There you go. Necklace secured.”
“Thanks,” she murmurs. “Actually, I have something for you.”
She goes to the fridge, retrieving a box. “Baked these this morning. I know you’re an athlete health freak, and you probably think refined sugar is the devil in granulated form, but still.”
She places the box into my hands. I stare down at it, prying open the lid.
Cupcakes?
“Why?” I blurt out.
She arches an eyebrow.
“I mean, thanks,” I grunt. “You didn’t have to bake me anything.”
“I know. But… it’s a thing I do sometimes. Just take them and stop making it awkward.”
I huff out a laugh. A feeling of lightness plays about in my chest.
It takes me a couple seconds to realize it’s… warmth. I don’t know when I last felt this: a thawing of everything cold and closed off in my chest. I search her stare.
“I need to change,” she says quickly, looking away. “But I’ll just be a minute. You okay waiting here?”
“Sure.”
Her expression melts into a smile. “You don’t have to stand there looking all big and scary, like you’re my bodyguard. Sit down. Make yourself at home.”
I do a mock salute, my lips quirking up. “Order received, 007.”
She turns back to her bedroom, but she pauses as I call after her. “And Cassie? Thanks.” I clear my throat, suddenly gruff. “For the cupcakes. Thank you.”
Her smile flickers, then widens. “My pleasure.”
I sit down on the couch like she told me to and take a cupcake from the box. The frosting is delicate, a soft cream color.
An image of Cassie pops into my head: that sweet icing on her sweet fingertips, lifting them to her full pink lips and sucking the sugar right off.
Britt flies into the living room like a whirlwind, interrupting my dirty thoughts about her roommate. She grabs her purse and hops to pull on her shoes.
“Gotta get going, but you kids have fun tonight. And please try not to kill each other. The apartment will get real messy real quick if Cassie isn’t around anymore.” She’s sliding her headphones around her neck when her eyes fall to the cupcake in my hand. “Oh, shit… Cassie baked you cupcakes?”
That warm feeling comes back. My lips tug into a smile. Just a fraction of an inch. “Yeah. She did.”
“Damn.” Britt laughs, shaking her head. “You guys must be fighting a lot.”
I frown. The warm sensation in my chest wavers. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Cassie bakes only cupcakes for people who she has a problem with. It’s like some cathartic Zen exercise or whatever to overcome her inner hate for them. That girl can’t stand hating anybody.”
Oh.
My shoulders stiffen. I place the cupcake back in the box and reseal the lid tight.
Britt pauses, seeming to realize she’s made an error. “Shit, I didn’t mean to offend you… I thought you guys weren’t getting along, like mutually—“
“You’re right. Mutual dislike. Goodnight, Britt. Happy New Year.”
I turn away to stare out the window intently, hearing Britt hover, deciding whether to try to fix the situation. After a few seconds, she rushes down the hallway and out the door, calling out goodbye to Cassie as she leaves.
Outside, it’s already dark. The streetlamps are flickering on. I try to focus on the lights as my mind ticks over what I just learned.
So. In Cassie’s world, cupcakes equal hate. Of course. Why wouldn’t they?
Cassie has kept me guessing since the first day I laid eyes on her.
I’m not offended. It would be fucking stupid to be offended.
But maybe I’m not as smart as I once thought.
I’m the idiot who actually felt touched to be given a box of cupcakes by the beautiful junior agent who’s definitely only spending time with me because she’s being forced to.
“Hey,” Cassie says, reappearing from her bedroom. “Ready to go?”
I don’t answer, because suddenly the breath feels tight in my throat at the sight of her.
Her hair is out of the ponytail and lies around her shoulders in sleek waves. The dress is simple—or it would be simple on any other woman. It’s royal blue, dotted with a white flower pattern, and it’s just fitted enough that I can see the intoxicating curve of her breasts.
The dress brings out the icy flecks in her blue eyes that stand out so much against the warm tan of her skin. It hits above the knee, and I can’t help but drag my stare down her perfect legs. Yeah, fine, I’m wondering how those legs would feel wrapped around me as I push my cock deep inside her.
She looks so fucking delicious that I want to lick her all over. My hand clenches around the box of cupcakes.
“Ready,” I manage to grit out.
“So, how are the cupcakes?”
I force a shrug. “Don’t know. Haven’t tried one. Refined sugar is the devil, and all that.”
“Oh.” Something flickers over her smile. “Well, bring them to the party. Maybe we can tempt one of your teammates to eat them.”
I follow her out the door.
But the thought of my teammates touching Cassie’s cupcakes makes me want to hit a puck straight through the wall.