Chapter 13
HAYDEN
Ilie on my bed, staring at that damn suitcase.
I knew exactly what I was doing when I “accidentally” picked mine up and handed it to her.
It was stupid. But in that moment, seconds before I was going to have to say goodbye to her, I needed a reason to see her again.
I knew she’d never agree to just hang out with me.
Linc and Parker’s engagement party and then the wedding are the only personal events I’ve seen her attend since I started with the Vipers last season.
She doesn’t hang out with the guys or anyone from the franchise, from what I can see.
I get it; she keeps her work and personal life separate.
But while I respect that, I also want to see her again.
It’s selfish. But…I do. And I don’t just mean at the arena, when she’s got a clipboard clutched to her chest and she’s barking orders at everyone.
I mean, just the two of us. I want a repeat of my hotel room, where I felt able to just be myself.
She allowed me to be sad. She didn’t judge me when I cried on her shoulder, and more than all that, she understood.
She never said anything more about her brother, but she said enough.
She’s been through something similar. She’s suffered a loss that changed everything she knew about life. I don’t need to know the details, just like she hasn’t asked for mine. She just…knows, and there’s something so comforting in that.
The guys have been fantastic. And of course, they’ve all experienced some kind of loss throughout their lives, but it’s different with them.
I don’t crave sitting beside them like I do Hailee.
We don’t even need to talk. Just her presence is enough to settle everything that’s been erupting within me for months—hell, years—now.
The temptation to pull some clothes on, pick up her suitcase, and drive over there now is tempting. But I force myself to stay put.
I haven’t heard anything since I sent that stupid “okay.” I was trying to play it cool and pretend that I didn’t set all this up. Trying to cover up just how much I needed her to message and demand I bring it over immediately.
It was obvious that it was never going to happen. She hasn’t noticed that she took the wrong suitcase home for five days. There’s nothing inside there that she’s needed all week. I can’t imagine she suddenly needs something on a Friday night.
My mind races with what could be inside.
I haven’t opened it. And I won’t. But I really fucking want to.
The need to find out more about her is almost too much to ignore.
What brand of perfume does she wear that ensures she always smells so sweet and tempting?
What products does she use to have her face so bright and clear? What kind of panties…
Lock it down, Monroe.
I grit my teeth and try not to let my imagination run away with me, but it’s hard. Really fucking hard. Pun intended.
I shove my hand into my boxers and squeeze myself as those images keep circling in my head. I bet she wears those sexy lace ones that cut halfway across her ass. And of course, her bra will always match. She’s too much of a control freak for anything else.
In my head, that morning in my hotel room takes a turn.
When she jumps out of bed, it isn’t to run away; it’s to strip off her tank and shorts.
She was braless, so I don’t get to find out if she’s matching, but who the fuck cares when I get her bare breasts instead?
They’re small, and so fucking perfect, and her panties are exactly as I expected, but when my eyes drop to the juncture of her thighs, I find that there’s a wet patch on the pretty pink lace.
Goddamn.
“Come back to bed,” I rasp, and she does. Slowly, she walks toward me, her tits bouncing with each step, before her knees press against the mattress.
I shove my boxers down to my hips, my hand moving faster, stroking my dick up and down as I imagine her lying back down before me.
“Hayden,” she whispers, her voice raspy with need. Need for me. “Touch me. Kiss me. Take what you need.”
“Christ,” I grunt, my dick twitching against my palm as I get close to coming all over myself just thinking of being able to touch her.
“Look at you, so hard. Is that all for me?”
“Yes, yes,” I groan. “All for you. Everything. Anything you want.”
She reaches for my free hand and drags it close to her before pressing my palm against her waist, then dragging it up.
My balls tighten as I imagine just how soft and warm her skin would be.
And then she places my hand on her breast, and I lose control.
“Fuuuck,” I groan as pleasure slams into me, and I come all over my stomach.
My chest heaves, the vivid fantasy fades, and the sweat that covers my body cools, leaving me alone with just the memory of the high.
But it’s all I’ve got. And it’s got to be enough, because it’s all I’m ever going to get.
Hailee is too good for me. Too intelligent, too sophisticated, too beautiful, too perfect.
I knew from the first day I saw her that she’d never give me a chance, that it would always be a crush, and that’s okay. I mean, it has to be. There is no other option.
The first thing I see the next morning is her suitcase. Memories of last night hit me, and I shove my face into my pillow and groan. That doesn’t stop my morning wood from wanting a repeat, though.
It’s always the same. It doesn’t matter who else I meet, what bunnies throw themselves at me.
No matter how beautiful they are, how willing, I’m just not really interested.
All they want is one night. One night that will give them bragging rights or a story that they can sell.
I know that the others love that lifestyle, or at least, they did.
But as appealing as it might seem, it just doesn’t do it for me.
I’ve tried. I’ve said all the right things, made all the right moves, but when it comes to crunch time, I back out.
Sure, I might want to get laid—what twenty-one-year-old doesn’t?
But I don’t just want one night of mindless sex.
I want…more. I want a connection. Someone who’s there at my home games, who’s waiting for me when I’m back from road games.
I want someone in the crowd wearing my jersey, not just because they like the idea of me, but because they know me and want to support me.
Damn it, I want what Rylee and I read about over and over again in our books.
I know many say it's just fiction, but it’s not.
I’ve seen it play out in real life with my eyes.
I’m surrounded by incredible couples whose stories could all be turned into books. I just…I want it to be my turn.
Shoving my thoughts aside, I take a quick shower, get dressed, make myself a protein shake, grab my gym bag, and head out.
But not before I pick up Hailee’s suitcase.
I might not take it to her today, we’ll see.
But I already know I won’t be dropping it in to her office, leaving it for her to collect when she’s back.
One way or another, I’m going to give it to her in person. I have to.
I’m not surprised to see some of the other guys’ cars here already, and when I get through to the gym, I find Killer and Rett are already mid-workout.
“Afternoon, Monroe,” Killer teases from the bike.
“It’s not even ten yet,” I point out.
“Kodie has already been and gone.”
“Good for him,” I mutter as I hop onto a treadmill to warm up.
I start it up, walking slowly while I find the audiobook I’ve been listening to and pull my headphones on. Once I’m ready, I up the speed and start running.
“Holy fuck, man. Is that necessary?” I cry as Darcy does something to my shoulder that I’m pretty sure should be illegal.
“Yes,” he states, continuing to dig his fingers into my tight muscle.
I knew he was going to have his work cut out for him. No one has worked on me for weeks, and it’s not news to me that I’m tense as fuck.
“You’re hitting the ice bath after this,” he informs me.
“Wonderful. I can’t wait,” I deadpan.
“Is that Marilyn I can hear crying from the dressing room?” Linc asks, his heavy footsteps moving closer.
“Fuck. Off,” I grunt.
“Aw, it’ll be worth it, man,” he says supportively as Darcy finds another sore spot and makes me wail.
“It sounds like someone’s being tortured in here,” Rett adds, also joining the party.
“You’d think life has been hard enough recently, but no…” I laugh, but there’s zero humor in it.
“You’re gonna feel that tomorrow,” Rett points out.
“Might bail on our morning skate.”
“The hell you are,” Fletch says, appearing in the doorway. “We’re all hitting the ice in the morning. Captain’s orders.”
I lift my hand, saluting him. “Yes, sir.”
“Darce, try and work that smartass out of him, would you?” Fletch asks with a laugh.
“You got it.”
I cry again.
“I would say it’s good to see you, Cap, but I’m not so sure.”
Fletch chuckles. “It’s good to see you, too, Marilyn. I’m sorry to hear about your sister.”
Instantly, the atmosphere in the room shifts.
“Thanks, man. Appreciate it. Did you have a good break?” I ask. He and his wife, Reese, the Vipers event coordinator, had a few days away before the season started and missed the wedding.
“Yeah, it was good. Ready to get back at it now. See you all in the morning, yeah?”
“You got it, boss,” Linc says as Fletch disappears.
“You almost done here?” Rett asks. “We’re heading for lunch.”
“Nope. Not even close,” Darcy responds for me.
“Fantastic. You go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You sure? We can wait,” Rett offers, although from the way Linc’s chin drops in shock, I’m not sure he agrees.
“Yeah, you go. I’ve got stuff to do this afternoon anyway.”
“You hear that? Marilyn has something more important to do than hang out with us,” Rett teases. “And here I was thinking I was important to him.”
“You’re an idiot,” Linc says, shoving Rett toward the door. “See you tomorrow, Monroe. If Darcy goes easy on you and lets you out early, call us.”
“Sure thing,” I agree, but I already know I’m not going to. I’ve got my sights set on someone much smaller and way hotter than either of them.
It’s almost two hours later when I’m finally able to leave the arena.
I’ve cursed Darcy out more times than I can count.
He laughed off every single one, fucking sadist. Even Parker laughed when she appeared a little while after Rett and Linc left.
And now, I’m in pain. Something tells me that I’ll be covered in bruises tomorrow, and Rett was right: tomorrow’s skating session is going to fucking hurt.
I need to get used to it, though. Preseason games will be here before we know it, and then we’ve got a full season and, hopefully, the playoffs ahead of us.
The late summer sun is blazing when I pull out of the arena’s parking garage.
The sight of the bright blue sky and endless sunshine makes me feel better.
Everything always feels better in LA. It’s not like the gloomy wet days I remember from my childhood, where all we did was dream of days like this.
I checked my cell the second I was finished with Darcy, but there was nothing from Hailee. Her silence makes me nervous, but it’s not enough to stop me from trying to see her.
Those who don’t try, don’t get, right?