Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
cole
Our team doesn’t score in the first period.
It’s hard to when our chemistry is off and we can’t get the damn puck past the Rangers’ best defenseman.
Jason DeVries is a giant dick, known for his out-of-line chirping.
And, as a bonus, he despises me. Why? Solely because I look exactly like the man who “stole his girlfriend.” It’s ridiculous, if unsurprising, that Nathan’s love life is stirring up trouble for me years later. Some things never change.
By the end of the second period, we’ve scored once, but we’re still down by two. Jake passes me the puck, but DeVries intercepts and jams me into the board. Collisions are part of the game, and for the most part, they’re clean. This wasn’t, and yet the referee doesn’t call it.
“What the hell is your problem?” I shout, shoving DeVries off me.
He smirks, his eyes lit up with distaste. “Just as shitty of a player as your brother. Can’t get a simple puck past me.”
I shove his chest hard. I’m not quick to anger during games.
Players have to become immune to the constant shit-talking and aggressive testosterone because there are about nine million ways to get a penalty.
I can usually stay level-headed enough to avoid the penalty box, but mentioning Nathan?
Game fucking over. “Want to say that again?”
“C’mon.” He chuckles darkly. “We all know the Berrett brothers never lived up to the hy—”
I slam into him before he can get another word out.
Rage, hot and heavy, springs to life and consumes me.
The fight escalates with both Bobcats and Rangers players piling on to get a piece of the action, led by none other than Logan.
DeVries lands an elbow to my nose, but not before I get in a few solid punches.
As a ref pulls me off him, the first person in my line of vision is Coach, and he’s angry as hell.
Fuck.
I find Maya cuddled under my covers with my dog snoozing at her feet.
She may only be there because, for reasons unknown, Goose dislikes the guest bedroom, but I’m not one to look a gift horse—or chocolate lab—in the mouth.
I quietly drop my duffel on the floor of the closet and pad across the wood floor to the bed.
Since Goose is the worst guard dog known to man, he doesn’t so much as flinch at the sound of my steps.
Maya’s curled on her left side with her hands resting under her cheek. Her lips are pushed together in an adorable little pout that’s at war with her relaxed brows.
I run the tips of my fingers over her cheek, reveling in the smoothness of her skin. God, she’s breathtaking. I must accidentally say that out loud, because the second the thought crosses my mind, a scream pierces the stillness of the house and a small fist connects with my face.
“Fuck.” I reel back, cradling my jaw. If I wasn’t already bruised from the on-ice fight, that would have done the trick. Warm liquid drips down my lips, confirming that her hit reopened a cut I sustained earlier. It hurts like a bitch, but I can’t deny she’s got a great right hook.
She squeaks, her eyes going wide in the dim room, and sits upright.
I can’t help but chuckle. “Definitely not the warm welcome I was hoping for.”
Maya turns on my bedside lamp and cups her mouth with both hands. “Oh my God. I’m sorry! I thought you were an intruder.” She turns to face Goose. “What the hell, dude? You’re supposed to protect me. Not sleep through an attempted kidnapping.”
He simply blinks at her before hopping off the bed and sauntering over to me.
Sighing, she studies my face. “Are you okay? I swear I didn’t mean to hit you. I’m usually very nonviolent.”
“You seem to forget I take hits for a living.” No longer cupping my jaw, I prod at the area, testing the tenderness.
“I made you bleed!” she shrieks, jackknifing out of the bed.
Damn. If I thought her sleeping in my bed was sexy? It’s nothing compared to her slipping out from under the covers in only a t-shirt. The smirk that pulls up my lips as I give her body an obvious once-over is automatic.
Maya holds up a hand, her cheeks stained bright red. “Don’t say a word unless you want matching black eyes.”
Biting back every innuendo in the book, I follow her into my bathroom.
Based on how familiar she is with where the washcloths and Advil are, she’s done some snooping.
I don’t blame her. I’ve done the same at her place.
I’ve yet to figure out why she has enough Q-tips to supply our nation’s armed forces, but I can’t exactly ask without revealing how I know that they’re in the bottom drawer to the left of the bathroom sink.
As Maya holds the washcloth under the faucet, Goose weaves between my legs, desperate for the affection I’ve yet to give him.
“Hey, buddy,” I croon, scratching him behind the ears. “You have fun with Maya? She give you lots of belly rubs?”
He wags his tail in response and curls up between my feet as I lean against the counter.
Am I jealous that my dog has spent more nights with the girl I’m falling for than I have?
Definitely. Do I love the way Maya mumbles about how a grown man being cute with dogs is obnoxiously attractive? Abso-fucking-lutely.
When she refuses to let me take care of the injury myself, I hop onto the bathroom counter and let her play doctor.
This is not how I thought my nurse fantasy would play out, but beggars can’t be choosers.
She lightly presses the cloth against my cheek, and I suck in a sharp breath.
It’s been a few hours since my fight with DeVries, but my face may take a little longer to recover than my ego.
“What are you doing back so early?” Maya stands directly between my thighs. If she noticed, she’d back away, surely, but I’m not going to be the one to bring attention to it. “You said your flight was tomorrow morning. It’s the middle of the night.”
“I decided to come back earlier.”
She runs her free hand through her adorable bedhead. “Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. You could have called or texted so I didn’t think I was being abducted, you know.”
I snort. I never would have guessed she’d give Logan a run for his money in the drama department, yet here we are. “Sorry. I honestly wasn’t thinking. I booked a red-eye back home the moment the game ended.”
More like the moment Coach Henderson was done handing me my ass in the locker room.
Motioning to Goose, who’s lying happily on my bathmat, Maya says, “Goose begged me to turn the game on, so we watched.”
“Told you so.”
“Mm-hmm.” Maya gently pulls the now-stained washcloth away from my cheek. “Let me take a look at you.”
“You don’t need to use my injury as an excuse to check me out.”
“If your narcissism has returned, then you must be okay,” she says with a smirk.
I sit stock-still as she skims her fingers over the bruise on my cheek. She ghosts them against my skin like a whisper, equal parts tantalizing and caring. When she nears my mouth, she stops. “You cut your lip.”
“Still works just fine.” I cover her hand with my own and brush my mouth against her palm in a sweet kiss. “See?”
She sucks in a startled breath. “Sort of.”
“Sort of?” I wrap my legs around her, and as I hoped, she loses her balance just a little, forcing her to place her hands on my chest to catch herself. “I’m happy to more thoroughly demonstrate.”
Her lips part, but she doesn’t say a word.
Taking the opening, I gently press a kiss to her exposed collarbone. Slowly, I give every inch of her neck attention, relishing the way her chest rises and falls in rapid succession. I swirl my tongue over her pulse point, spurred on by how fast her heart is beating.
“Cole,” she murmurs as I nip beneath her chin.
Pulling back, I meet her gaze. “Hmm? Something you want?”
She nibbles on her bottom lip, as if warring with herself. But before I can tease her further, she arches forward and slams her lips to mine. There’s no hesitancy in the way she kisses me. Like I could float away at any moment, and she needs to tether us together.
The room is warm and electric, the air radiating with the demolition of the sexual tension we’ve spent months ignoring.
I slip my tongue between her lips, eager to taste her, and devour her mouth like I’ve been wanting—no, needing—to for so long.
Her small hands roam over my back, exploring the planes of muscle, pulling me tighter against her.
There’s no hiding how hard I am, and by the way she rolls her hips against mine, desperate for friction, she’s not the least bit put off by it.
Not one to deny Maya anything she desires, I toy with the waistband of her underwear, dragging my finger back and forth over her soft skin, eliciting a shudder from her. When I slip my hand in to cup her warmth, it’s a goddamn miracle I don’t come right there and then.
“Already so warm and wet for me, baby,” I praise, nipping lightly on her lower lip. “You want me to make you come?”
“Yes,” she mewls.
“Hmm. Well, I want to take you on a date. Do we have a deal?”
“Are you negotiating an orgasm for a date?” She rears back, her jaw unhinging. “Seriously?”
“What can I say?” I brush my thumb lightly against her clit and she jerks at the contact. “That Negotiating for Dummies book you recommended taught me a lot.”
She laughs, but when I brush against her entrance to tease an answer from her, she lets out a long, low moan.
God, I could listen to that noise every day.
She’s unbelievably responsive as I push inside her, twisting my fingers until I hit that spot that makes her throw her head back and gasp.
Maya drags her hand through my hair and tugs, the sharp sting making my cock twitch in my pants.
Not wanting to get distracted from my mission, I pull my hand away, causing her to deflate, her body draped against me. “Go on a date with me, Maya. Give us a chance.”
“I can’t—”
I slip a finger back inside her, and she subconsciously spreads her legs to grant me better access.