Chapter 1 #3
One corner of Knight’s lips quirked up, though Ben couldn’t tell if it was because he’d achieved his goal of irritating their teammate or because Knight enjoyed the way Cassidy had thrown his own shit back at him.
Cassidy stared Knight down for another beat, perhaps waiting to see if he might say more, before addressing the room again. “Everyone decent?”
There were a few mumbled complaints, but at Cassidy’s prompting look, everyone proceeded to cover up all the essentials. Ben pulled on his pants. His naked chest wasn’t likely to send the woman into “a fit of the vapors,” as his mother liked to say.
Cassidy surveyed everyone’s state of dress before nodding his head, as though decreeing they’d all met his exacting standards. This time, when Cassidy reached the door, he swung it wide open.
Ben wasn’t sure what he’d expected to see when the door finally opened, but it certainly wasn’t a sweet-faced young woman.
She was petite. Dainty, even. Probably not much more than five feet tall.
She had an appealing heart-shaped face. Her long brown-black hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, save for a few face-framing wisps that appeared to have escaped to tickle prominent cheekbones that were currently raised from smiling.
And what a smile. It lit up her face the way only the most genuine of smiles could.
Her full lips drew him in and made him want to share her joy, whatever its origin.
He was too far away to identify the woman’s exact eye color, but it appeared to be some shade of brown. He couldn’t help but wonder if they would hold the same mesmerizing whirlpool effect as her lips.
At first glance, Ben would guess the woman was in her mid-twenties, but it was hard to know for sure. Her clear, bright complexion glowed with youth, but she carried herself with a confidence that belied her looks.
Ben’s gaze traveled down her body. Fitted deep blue scrubs hugged the curves of her chest and hips, but tapered into a defined waist. He’d never seen medical attire look so good. She had just the type of figure that appealed to him. Neither too slight, nor too full-figured. Healthy.
Ben smiled when his gaze dipped to her sneaker-clad feet. He knew it wasn’t common to pair scrubs with platforms or stilettos, but the woman’s selection left him with the impression she valued comfort at least as much as style. There was something refreshing about that.
Overall, the lady reminded him of a wholesome, girl-next-door version of a young Catherine Zeta-Jones. And, just like the Hollywood star, she was stunning.
And yet, as lovely as she was, there was something about her that called to him beyond her appearance. Some intangible essence that radiated from her like sunlight. He couldn’t quite describe it, but it was no less real for his inability to define it.
He watched as Catherine Jr. leaned up on tiptoes to give Cassidy a hug.
The embrace was warm and friendly, but short-lived.
It didn’t tell Ben much about the nature of their relationship.
Cassidy might have just assured Knight that he didn’t have a girlfriend, but there was a familiarity about the way Cassidy had embraced her.
Cassidy’s arms may not have lingered, but it was clear to Ben the lady was more to his teammate than a passing acquaintance.
Catherine Jr. repositioned a cotton grocery bag, which Ben hadn’t noticed during his earlier inspection, on her shoulder before looping her other arm through Cassidy’s and pulling him across the room.
Ben couldn’t help but notice her familiarity with the space, as well as the way she smiled warmly at a great many of the players she passed.
Their faces lit with pleasurable recognition as they smiled back. Some even offered a friendly wave.
Ben glanced curiously at Richie. Like so many of the other players, it was obvious he was acquainted with the woman
“Who is that?” Ben asked as he gestured at the dark-haired woman moving toward them.
Richie looked at him as though he’d lost his mind. “That’s Melody,” Richie explained slowly, as though he were pointing out the obvious.
“And Melody would be . . . ?” Ben waved his hand in an exaggerated tell-me-more gesture.
“Oh!” Richie said in surprise. He shook his head as if he were trying to jostle everything back into place. “I keep forgetting you’ve only been here for a few weeks instead of the years that I have. In some ways, it kind of feels like we’re both playing for the Flyers again, you know?”
Yeah, Ben thought. He and Richie had been close during those years. They’d hung out, known the same people, and frequented the same places. Ben supposed it was only natural that one of them might time warp every so often and assume the other knew the same people and places they did. But still.
“And Melody would be . . . ?” Ben prompted again.
Richie smiled sheepishly at having forced Ben to repeat his question, but he didn’t waste any more time.
“Melody is Coach McGuire’s daughter.”