Chapter 14
A SECRET NERD
Ryker
After Trina toes off her shoes, she makes her way over to the couch with her dog by her side, and I watch her every move, cataloging her. She wears little flare jeans that show off some ankle, then a crop top that reveals a sliver of belly, and a short sweatshirt.
It’s a fantastic tease, and I want to peel all those clothes off her. But it’s the way she looks at me from behind those red glasses that makes my heart thump faster.
“Pound cake. Seriously. You’re my hero,” she says.
My chest warms. “Just wanted to help. No big deal,” I say, evenly. Not gonna let on how much I like those words—you’re my hero.
She joins me on the couch, patting the cushion. Nacho jumps up, then snuggles next to her. “Chase said he could sit on the furniture,” she explains.
“I wasn’t going to rat out Nacho. I’m also not surprised one bit that Chase gave him couch privileges,” I say, then reach across her to pet the dog’s head. I’m not a huge animal person but Trina clearly is.
“What are you listening to?” she asks, glancing down at my phone.
I’m glad I closed the text thread with my sister, Katie. She was firing off her usual litany of little sister questions I won’t answer like—you should ask out the girl from the VIP night! I could tell you liked her in the picture. I swear, Katie thinks she knows everything about me.
“Wait, let me guess,” Trina continues. “Is it Seven Tips To Be As Scary As Possible When You’re Really A Softie Underneath?”
I’m not sure I want to tell her. Sharing things leads to people knowing you, which leads to them using you.
Case in point—Selena. “No, it just comes naturally to me,” I say, evading the question.
Just like I’ve been avoiding Josh’s email from earlier today.
I don’t feel like dealing with my agent’s latest request of his grumpy client.
Pound cake and dinner were much easier problems to solve.
Trina nods to my phone. “Fine. Don’t tell me you like A Word Play A Day.”
Dammit. The screen locked on the podcast. “It’s not bad,” I say, noncommittally, but better the podcast than my agent’s email.
“Whiskey comes from aqua vitae, meaning ‘life water.’ C’mon. That’s way more than not bad. That’s cool,” she says.
I fight off a grin. “Suppose it is,” I say as Trina studies my face.
“Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me. I won’t let on you’re a…” She stops to lean in closer, her face dangerously near to mine, so near I want to smother it in kisses. “A secret nerd.”
I scoff. “Please.”
“Takes one to know one,” she says.
“You’re a nerd?”
“I work at a bookstore. I read a book a night. There’s nothing else I can be but a book nerd.”
I’m seriously impressed with her page-flipping skills. “A book a night. I’m jealous.”
“See? I knew you were on my team.”
I narrow my eyes, huffing. It’s easier this way. But she’s relentless, so I bend, teasing her too. “Maybe I am, but you weren’t reading a book last night, sweetness.”
She dips her face, that shy vibe returning. “I was otherwise occupied.”
I’d like to occupy her tonight too. If she wants that. If Chase wants that. Speaking of, where the fuck is my buddy? I’d really like to eat dinner and then introduce him to the joys of eating Trina. He is seriously missing out.
That is—if she wants us again. Because I do. Badly. Knew the second I wrapped my arms around her in bed last night that I wanted another night like that. That I wanted to take her to new heights. To make her scream in bliss, to edge her, to break her brain with pleasure.
And I’m getting horny, in addition to being hungry, but we really need to lay down some new ground rules. Stat.
Trouble is, that’s a conversation three people need to have, not two. So, I nod to the kitchen counter and the bag of food. “Did you know baba ganoush means…pampered daddy?”
Her lips part in obvious delight. “I did not know that at all. But I am going to work that into daily conversation starting tomorrow,” she says, then tilts her head, studying me. “You know, Ryker. Your other secret is safe with me too.”
What does she mean? Like last night? “Not sure what you’re getting at.”
“I’ve seen you come around the bookstore,” she says quietly.
Oh. I hadn’t thought of that. I drag a hand down my face. “You have?”
“Yes. Your eyes lit up last night when I mentioned where I worked.”
“Well, it’s a cool store,” I say.
“I’m glad you think that. And I got the impression you don’t like to talk about it. In public.”
She’s not wrong. “Why would I?”
She nods, then knits her brow. The furrow tells me she’s trying to figure me out. “You buy a lot of books, and it just made me think I bet he donates them.”
Damn she is good. “Fine. I buy them and donate most of them to the library. They make sure the books go to kids in need. Kids at homeless shelters, in the hospital, and so on.”
“And why was that hard to say?”
With a groan, I slump back into the couch cushions. “Because the team wants me to work on my image online. And I know they’d be all over that, but if I shared it with them it’d just feel…gross. Like I was patting myself on the back.”
“Because nobody knows you actually do laundry and make pancakes and donate books?”
“And nobody should. I don’t even know why it matters to the public.”
“Because you’re a public figure,” she says, shrugging, like it is what it is.
“I just want to play hockey. And support my family. I don’t want to have to tell everyone what I’m doing off the ice too.”
“But people look up to hockey players. They look up to athletes. That’s just reality. You can’t change that,” she says evenly, and she makes good points. So I open up a little more.
“That’s why I was doing the VIP event with Chase last night. To play nice with my rival and show the fans what a nice guy I am.” I adopt a saccharine grin.
“If they only knew how very, very nice to fans you are,” she jokes.
“Yeah, let’s keep that between us,” I deadpan, then return to Josh’s email.
He said last night’s photo op was great and the team wants me to please do more positive press.
“Anyway, it’s just annoying that I’m supposed to broadcast this stuff.
What the fuck am I supposed to say? Had dinner with Mom last night.
I’m such a good son. Or went down to the library to give them some books.
I’m so nice,” I say, imitating a self-congratulatory post.
She seems to think for a minute. “Well, I could help you. I’m posting things for the store all the time.
You could do it in such a way that isn’t patting yourself on the back.
And honestly, you might not even have to say that much.
With the books, just take a picture and tag the org, or I could do it for you,” she says with such genuine enthusiasm it’s hard for even a guy like me to grumble.
“Yeah?”
“I like social media. Do you want me to help you?”
I hate taking help. But the way she asks, so sweet, so real, there’s no way I can turn her down.
Especially since I need the assistance. “Yes,” I say roughly, then I clear my throat and give her the answer she deserves. “Thank you.”
“Anytime,” she says, then her eyes twinkle. “In fact, we can start right away. I have some ideas.”
Trina never seems to stop thinking. Her brain is always in motion. She tells me some of her ideas, and they’re easy enough. A stop at the bookstore. A pic at the library. Something family centric.
“Sure. I’m in.”
“Can you do Tuesday? To bring the books to the library?”
“Consider it done,” I say.
“Good,” she says, then pats my thigh, and I’m about to take her hand in mine, but then I catch myself.
Nope.
If I take her hand, I will drag her close for a hot kiss, and then I will want to tear off her clothes.
Where the fuck is my friend? I can’t wait a second longer. I jump up. “Be right back.”
I stalk down the hall and bang on his door, which swings open at my touch. “You done with your call? If not, I’m gonna eat,” I say.
He’s staring out the window, like he’s lost in thought.
“Where is my buddy and why has his evil emo twin replaced him?”
Chase turns around. His jaw is tight. His eyes are cold. What’s worse is when he says, “Shut the door. We need to talk.”