Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
cole
If my teammates are surprised that I’m out after a game, they do their best to hide it.
It’s not that I don’t like celebrating our wins or commiserating over our losses.
It’s just that I’m in bed by ten unless we have a late game.
During what little free time I have, I’m typically too tired to do anything but sleep or lounge around.
I tend to turn down plans if there’s a chance they could interfere with my sleep or training schedule.
Tonight? I didn’t just say yes to these plans, I initiated them.
The moment I step onto the semi-sticky bar floor of O’Leary’s, the team’s go-to bar, I’m met by a crush of regulars. The TVs are all playing games, each a different sport. Guinness flows like water, and the whole place hums like a quintessential Irish pub.
As I weave my way to the back of the bar, I spy Maya sitting with Cameron, his younger sister Sophie, and a guy I don’t recognize.
A guy I instantly dislike, purely because of his clear familiarity with Maya.
Her dark brown hair is tied back with a hot pink scrunchie that clashes horribly with the Bobcats’ gray and blue color scheme.
Not that it matters, since Maya isn’t wearing team colors. Just a black sweater and jeans.
Ignoring the teammates jostling to get my attention, I head over to the high top where she’s parked.
As I approach, the mystery man greets me with a welcoming smile. “Hey, man. Great game.”
I level him with a blank stare. He’s objectively good-looking: dimples, stubble, the works. Logan thinks so too, based on the way he’s not so slyly checking him out from across the bar.
Cameron elbows me in the ribs, and I snap out of my one-sided glaring contest.
“Thanks,” I grind out, turning to Maya. “Hey. I’m glad you made it.”
“We shook on it.” The smile she gives me is infectious, her dark blue eyes glinting. “And I’d never miss out on nachos.”
The guy nods a little too enthusiastically. “The nachos were unreal. The jalapeno they put on top was amazing.”
The thought of the two of them sharing nachos has my hackles rising. “I’m sorry… who are you?” The question comes out more aggressive than intended. I’m not the kind of guy who flexes for dominance, but seriously—who is he?
Cameron coughs loudly in a bad attempt to cover up a laugh, which isn’t appreciated by me or Sophie, who shoves him so hard he wobbles in his seat.
“Elliott,” he answers. Like he’s Cher. Or Madonna. No last name necessary.
“Her brother.” Sophie gives me a chastising look.
I wince. I’ve never seen Cameron’s sister with anything but a sweet smile on her face, so her rebuke makes me feel like an even bigger asshole. For someone who looks like Tinkerbell, she can be surprisingly intimidating when needed.
With a long breath out, I force my shoulders to relax and give Maya’s brother a brief nod that’s half acknowledgment, half apology. “Nice to meet you, Elliott.”
He raises a brow. “I’m sure it is.”
I snag an empty stool from a nearby table and maneuver myself next to Maya. There’s more room on the other side of the table, but that doesn’t deter me. “You don’t think it’s a bit too early for me to be meeting the family?”
A pink flush creeps up her neck and into her cheeks. Damn. It looks cute on her. “Don’t be a smart-ass.”
I raise a hand to my chest. “You’ve been checking out my ass? I’m honored, baby.”
She gives a brief shake of her head and lowers it, rubbing her forehead with her fingertips.
As a server passes by, I order a drink, then turn back to Maya and ask the question I’ve been dying to have answered. “What’d you think of the game? Way more exciting than one of your hockey romances, I’m sure.”
She rewards me with a smile. “I didn’t even consider reading, if that tells you anything.”
I preen like a fucking peacock, feathers and all, my chest filling with air and my head lifted high. A few more games and I guarantee she’ll be sporting Bobcats colors with pride.
Within minutes, Jake and Logan have made their way to our table. My single-minded focus on hockey has only intensified since Nate passed, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed by my closest friends, so they don’t bother covering their surprise over my presence as well as Maya’s.
Logan zones in on Elliott, the one-named wonder, and wastes zero time on pleasantries. “I’m Logan, and you are gorgeous.”
Elliott simply accepts the compliment with a lopsided smile.
“So, Maya,” Jake asks post-introductions. “What do you do for work?”
She nods absently, her knee knocking against mine under the table. “I write bereavement cards for Hallmark.”
Jake’s unruly chestnut hair bounces as he eyes me, then Cameron, as if he’s unsure that he’s heard her correctly. Finally, with a slow blink, he says, “Uh, um, that’s interesting.”
With a roll of his eyes, Elliott snorts. Tilting his head toward me, he says, “She once told my teacher that she tutored underprivileged zoo animals. Whatever the hell that means.”
Maya tips her head forward. “And it made your parent-teacher conference a lot more fun, so you’re welcome.”
“Why were you at his parent-teacher conference?” Logan asks, the question blunt though not unkind.
Elliott and Maya exchange a look before she shrugs. “Our mom wasn’t around a lot, so I went instead.”
Elliott looks to be a year or two out of college, and according to Maya’s LinkedIn—which I most definitely stalked—she’s twenty-eight. Yet she played parent?
Maya shifts her weight on the stool, her eyes darting away, and takes a long sip of her wine (which I didn’t realize this bar served until she ordered it).
As she pulls it away from her mouth, a drop slides down her bottom lip.
Her perfectly pink and plump lip that I am absolutely thinking about nibbling on.
Arousal spikes deep in my belly, but I swallow it down. Now is not the time, considering her brother is nearby. Although I won’t be surprised if he and Logan leave together sooner rather than later.
“I think it’s adorable that you manage a bookstore, by the way,” I say, leaning back in my seat.
She waves off my comment and dabs at her mouth with a napkin. “That’s because men hear the word books and automatically think of a sexy librarian.”
“False.” Straightening, I shake my head. “Sort of. For the record, I do think you’d make a sexy as hell librarian, but more than that, I admire your passion for books.”
“I used to want to be an author,” she blurts out, the distinct beginnings of a flush traveling across her cheeks. “I just never found the time to pursue it.”
She glances at her brother, who’s drifted over to the bar area with Logan, the move almost enough to hide the flash of guilt that crosses her face.
My chest tightens at the idea that she might feel bad for even wishing she could do something for herself.
“Is it just you and Elliott? Or do you have other siblings?” I ask, sensing the need for a change in subject.
“Younger sister. Ava.” Maya’s already sweet face softens tenfold. “She’s a freshman at Vanderbilt.”
“My sister Emily went there,” I tell her. “Although that was about fifteen years ago.”
Growing up, it was always Nate and me against Darby and Emily. Now that Nate’s gone, I feel like a third wheel when I’m with my sisters. It’s in my head, I know that, since they simultaneously mother-hen and annoy me, but I can’t seem to shake the idea.
Maya regales me with stories of her college days, and somehow, we end up on the topic of drinking games. It’s dangerous, considering my overly competitive nature. A nature that even got me banned from coming to O’Leary’s on trivia night.
“I have a game we can play,” I suggest, dancing my fingers against Maya’s spine.
For a moment I’m sure she’s going to shrug off my touch. Instead, to my surprise, she leans into it.
“More like a wager, I suppose.”
She glances up at me, her dusk blue eyes filled with suspicion. “Why do I get the feeling this is a trap?”
There’s no fighting the grin spreading across my face. “Under or over an hour—how long before Logan and your brother leave together?”
She arches a brow, fiddling with her wineglass. “That’s assuming they do. My brother’s not really the one-night-stand type.”
I survey Logan and Elliott, who are standing close, murmuring into one another’s ears. I can practically feel the heat of their sexual tension from here. They’re definitely going home together.
“Fine, I’ll change it,” I concede, tapping my fingers against my drink. “If they don’t leave together, I’ll read a book of your choice. But if they do… you owe me a kiss.”
Maya tenses a fraction, her pouty lips forming an O at the boldness of my wager. “This feels rigged.”
A deep laugh escapes from my chest. “I never claimed to play fair, but I do play to win.”
At that comment, she throws me a haughty look. “I cannot wait for you to read Alien Lovers of Planet Dexxar.”
With a title like that, I’m even more grateful when, forty-three minutes later, Elliott and Logan slip into their jackets and murmur their goodbyes.
I barely hold in a laugh at the way Maya gapes, dumbfounded.
When her brother claims he’s heading home early because he’s had a long day, she stammers a goodbye.
“Looks like you need another drink.” I chuckle. It’s late, and we have a game tomorrow night in Atlanta, but I don’t want the night to end. Cheesy, yes, but true all the same. I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun off the ice.
Our next drink turns into two, then three, and somewhere between debating which nineteenth century president was the hottest and plotting our hypothetical zombie apocalypse strategy, my cheeks begin to hurt. I haven’t smiled this much in years.
At closing time, I reluctantly settle the tab and schedule a rideshare. I have Maya add her address as a stop so I know she gets home safely. It’s a crisp night, so I use that as an excuse to wrap my arm around her as we step outside.
“I’m going to regret that last drink in the morning.” She chuckles a little darkly. “I have to be up early to open the store.”
“What time do you have to be there?”
She taps her chin. “Eight-thirty.”
A scoff escapes me before I can stop it. “That’s early?” I’ll be up at six-thirty to train and to get Goose and his collection of toys dropped off at his sitter’s house before my flight.
She jabs a finger at my stomach, and I instinctively flex my well-earned abs. “Anything before ten-thirty a.m. is early for a night owl, Cole. Stop looking so offended.”
Chuckling, I rest my forehead against hers. But before I can collect my winning kiss, my phone buzzes, notifying me that our ride is here. Shit. Zero stars for him for cock-blocking me.
We clamber in, and when we’re settled side by side in the back seat, I rest a hand on Maya’s thigh, my thumb tracing idle circles. The driver chatters nonstop during the fifteen-minute ride to her Back Bay apartment, blissfully unaware of the silent tension thrumming between us.
I climb out on the passenger side and offer Maya my hand. “I’ll walk you up.”
“You really don’t have—”
“I want to.”
Ignoring her insistence that she can get into her own apartment without issue, I tell the driver I’ll be back in a minute.
Maya lives on the fifth floor of an older building with no elevator, which she grumbles about the entire way up.
I have no complaints, considering the view of her ass is top tier.
“Thanks for tonight,” she says once we make it to her floor. Outside her apartment door, she shifts from foot to foot and nibbles on her lower lip. “I had a lot of fun.”
I take a step forward, and another one, until we’re chest to chest and I’ve got her back pressed against her door. The electricity between us could power a Tesla indefinitely. Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, I lower my head. I move slowly, giving her ample time to push me away. She doesn’t.
With one last inhale, I capture her lips with urgency.
Our tongues twirl against one another in a heated dance, tasting and teasing.
I grasp her waist and pull her closer, and when she responds by rubbing against my aching cock, a rumbling moan comes from deep in my chest. A burning hunger builds inside me, an adrenaline rush that can only be compared to the one I experience during a face-off.
When we finally break apart, we both suck in quick and shallow breaths. Fuck. I’ve kissed a lot of women, but I’ve never ended a kiss and immediately been desperate for another like I am now.
Maya toys with the hair at my nape. “Your rating is going to plummet if you make the driver wait any longer.”
I nuzzle into her neck and gently nip the sensitive skin with my teeth. “I’ll text you tomorrow, yeah?”
“Okay.”
Her breathy whisper is almost my undoing. I consider diving in again, fuck the rideshare rating. But I’m stopped when she slips inside her apartment and gives me a small, shy smile as she closes the door.
I rest my head against the solid wood for a moment, reining myself back in, then jog back down five flights of stairs.
I pass out almost immediately upon arriving home and have the best night’s sleep I’ve had in a long time. It’s not until Goose whines that I begrudgingly open my eyes the next morning. My alarm hasn’t gone off, yet my room is lighter than I expect.
Rolling over, I rub a hand over my face and snatch my phone from the nightstand to check the time. When the display lights up, I’m greeted with a whole slew of messages.
Jake Reid
Yo, Berrett. Are we riding to the airport together?
Hellooooo?
Logan Clark
Can we focus on the fact that I’m in love?
Cameron Davies
I’m sure Berrett got laid and that’s why he’s sleeping in.
Logan Clark
He could’ve been kidnapped for ransom or some shit.
Jake Reid
Adults can’t be KIDnapped. Idiot.
Logan Clark
Semantics.
So… do you guys want to be groomsmen at my wedding?
Cameron Davies
All right, now I’m a little worried too.
Logan Clark
Why? Elliott’s a great guy. 10/10.
Cameron Davies
Oh, fuck yourself, Clark. You know what I mean.
Jake Reid
Don’t tempt him. He definitely would if it were anatomically possible.
Cole. Our flight’s in less than an hour. Wake the fuck up.
Turns out I had the best night’s sleep because I slept three hours past my alarm. Shit.