Chapter 38
CHAPTER
THIRTY-EIGHT
WILDER
Me: Are you free?
Sunshine: I’m on my way home from my yoga class, what’s up, Coach?
Me: Can I stop by?
Sunshine: Sure!
Sunshine: I bet Sebastian misses you. He’s oddly obsessed with you.
Me: Yeah, Sunshine, I’m sure it’s the cat.
Sunshine: Can you blame him?
It should not make my cock twitch every time she calls me Coach, but it does.
Everybody calls me Coach.
The staff, Taylor, my players.
But when Maisie does it, it sounds completely different.
It’s her way of teasing me, but little does she know, every time she says it, I want to bend her over the nearest surface and fuck the shit out of her while she’s wearing the jacket with my name on it and not shit else.
Maybe I should’ve done that the last time she was in my office when I had her bent over my desk.
After finishing at the arena for the day, I’m standing at Maisie’s front door. I’m telling myself that the reason I’m here is because I don’t want to ask her for a favor over the phone. That would be an asshole thing to do.
Then again, I fucking hate asking anyone for anything, but Camila texted me about the group home thing again, and before I actually commit to this, I need to talk to Maisie.
And I want to see her.
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her and how she dropped by my office a few days ago and almost got me fired for fucking her throat during a Zoom call.
I’m going to fuck my fist to that exact moment until I’m eighty.
At least.
And truthfully, after the week I’ve had, I think she might be the only thing that’s going to quiet the shit in my head.
She seems to be able to do that when nothing has ever worked before.
But I’m not ready to face what the hell that means, so I’m going to pretend it doesn’t even fucking exist.
What I do best.
When she opens the door a moment later, it nearly steals my goddamn breath.
Her long hair is still wet from a shower, appearing darker than the light blonde it normally is, her face free of makeup aside from something shiny she has on her lips.
Something I want to taste, lick every bit of it away from her plush lips.
She’s wearing a pale blue tank top that’s loose and flowy, with a short denim skirt.
Fuck me. She’s stunning, in an effortless kind of way.
“Hey, Coach.” She smiles brightly, gaze dropping to the cup in my hand. Her eyes widen. “Did you… bring me coffee?”
She’s as surprised as I am.
“I was getting one for myself. Woulda been rude if I didn’t get one, yeah?” I shrug.
Like it’s not a big deal.
And it isn’t.
It’s just a fucking coffee.
She’s just the only woman I’ve ever bought a coffee for.
“Since when do you care about being rude?” she smarts. But her lips are curved into a smile.
I pass her the coffee, but just as she goes to take it from me, I pull it back out of reach, holding it above her head.
She’s five foot two on a good day, so not a shot in hell she’s getting it.
“How about instead of the coffee, I make better use of this mouth since you clearly want to use yours this morning.”
For the briefest moment, her eyes flicker with heat, and then she’s leaning closer, giving me a whiff of her sweet scent. My nostrils flare.
Honey and cinnamon, mixed with something else that makes my head swim.
“You could. But… I’ll take the coffee first.” She grabs my coffee out of my hand with a smirk and sashays off into her apartment.
Knowing I’m going to watch every step of her heart-shaped ass as she does.
She’s going to be the goddamn death of me, I’m certain of it.
I realize as I follow behind her that there’s a… familiarity between us that wasn’t present before. Maybe it’s because we’ve spent the last few weeks sneaking around like teenagers, and in the process learning a bit about each other.
And as shocking as it is, I think I prefer her this way.
Comfortable and at ease, saying whatever’s on her mind without hesitation.
“Thanks for the coffee,” she murmurs, pressing her palms against my stomach and lifting up on the tips of her toes to press her lips quickly, casually, to mine.
My throat feels tight, but I manage to push out, “Welcome.”
She grins. “I’m sure you didn’t come over just to bring me coffee, so what’s up?”
I’m hesitant.
A long pause settles between us, one that she breaks by adding, “Or did you come here to do dirty things to me?”
I chuckle, unable to stop myself. “I always want to do dirty things to you, Sunshine, but no, I’m here because… uh, I have a favor to ask you.”
“Okay, what kind of favor?” She brings the iced coffee to her lips and takes a quick sip, then waggles her eyebrows. “Is it a dirty favor?”
“What counts as a dirty favor?” I say, arching a brow.
She shrugs. “I dunno, you tell me.”
“We’ll come back to that,” I finally say.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a fluffy black ball of fur prancing toward me, and I sigh.
I don’t understand his obsession with me.
I hate cats.
Which obviously includes him.
Sebastian hops up onto the couch and rubs against the sleeve of my jacket, purring like a goddamn engine.
“I think he’s got a complex. You know how people fall in love with their kidnappers? What’s that syndrome called?” Maisie mutters, and her lips twist together contemplatively.
“What the fuck, Maisie. I didn’t kidnap the cat.”
She giggles. “I know, but you openly hate him. I’m just saying there’s probably a name for the whole cling-to-the-person-who-despises-you thing.” Maisie moves to the spot on the other side of me and sinks down onto the couch. “C’mon… pet him. Just one time.”
I glance down at the cat, who’s still staring at me.
“One teeeeeeny, tiny little head scratch, Wilder. You can do it. I believe in you.”
For fuck’s sake.
Reaching over, I rub my palm over the top of his head for a few seconds before dropping my hand and pinning Maisie with a look.
“See? Was that so hard? You probably just made his life.” She’s beaming at me, her pink lips parted in a smile that makes something foreign tug in my gut.
Like me petting the damn cat really meant that much to her.
I clear my throat. “I’ve got to head to the arena in a few.”
“On a Saturday?”
“Yeah. I’m working with one of the defense guys on some drills.” My gaze catches on the small drop of coffee that’s clinging to her lips. Unable to look away, I reach for it, sweeping it away with my thumb.
Her cheeks flush, and I flash her a smirk.
I fucking love that about her.
How responsive she is, no matter if I’m pressing my lips to her skin or brushing away something like a drop of coffee. Her body always responds to my touch.
Fuck me. I’m getting distracted.
Rein it in.
“I know you have a lot going on with the program and school, and that’s why I know this would be a favor, but…
” I trail off, and she reaches out, grabbing my hand and offering me a small, reassuring smile that I had no clue I actually needed.
I’m just not… I’ve never asked people for help with anything, and doing so is so goddamn hard.
“There’s an event that someone asked me to attend as a former NHL player, coach, whatever.
At a local group home for children who are part of the foster care system.
My friend Camila asked, and it’s important to her. She’s like a sister to me.”
Tightness sits beneath my ribs, and as much as I want to tell her to forget that I ever brought it up, I keep going. “It’s not a place that I have… good memories of. It’s going to be hard for me. Really fucking hard.”
I probably sound pathetic, fucking weak, the same things my mother used to scream at me in the throes of her addiction. I was always the thing that ruined her life.
I swallow, pushing down the toxic memories when they’re threatening to choke me. Maisie’s hand squeezes mine tightly, and I fight the urge to pull away because it feels like she cares.
Isn’t that the most fucked-up thing you’ve ever heard?
The second someone shows that they give a single shit, I want to push them away as far as I can because… I don’t know, it feels like the only way to protect myself.
Because it’s easier for me to cope when people don’t care.
“So yeah,” I say, clearing my throat once more, desperate to get this shit out. “I was wondering if you’d come help out with it? I’m not sure if LLI would be able to be involved, but I was thinking that the kids at the home would love learning about reading too.”
And I really don’t want to go there alone because I’m fucking terrified.
I won’t be admitting that part. The truth. But it’s there, buried deep.
“I’d love to,” Maisie says. “Seriously, it sounds great. I’m always down for hanging out with kiddos and talking about books.
And I know they’ll be excited to meet you.
Every time I mention something to the kids at the program about the next time they get to see the team, they are all so excited.
” Her voice goes soft. “Thank you for thinking of me, Wilder.”
Unsure of where the fuck to put my hands or what to even say, I just nod like an idiot.
Because of course, Maisie has no clue what going back there really means to me or the fact that she’s agreed to help.
“I appreciate you saying yes, Maisie.” I stand from the couch, and suddenly, she jumps up beside me.
“Oh, before you go.”
She disappears down the hallway into her bedroom, those damn beaded curtains clinking as she passes through them, and then again when she returns, holding something behind her back. There’s a slightly timid curl to her lips. “I picked something up for you yesterday.”
I lean against the island counter and lift a brow.
Confusion sweeps through me. She bought me something?
Maisie continues toward me, and I realize that she looks a little nervous, hesitant almost.
When she moves her hands from behind her back and I glance down to the small cactus plant in her hands, I can’t help the laugh that spills out of me.
“What the hell is that?” I grunt.
Maisie smiles brightly, her eyes shining with happiness. “This—” She lifts the green pot between us. “—is Carl. He’s a cactus.”
“I see that.”
“I saw it yesterday when I was thrifting at this really adorable shop in the Quarter, and I immediately thought of you.”
“Yeah? Why’s that, Sunshine?” I murmur, watching heat rise in her cheeks.
She rocks back and forth on her heels like she can’t quite sit still. “Well, it’s prickly. Just like you.”
I reach out and press my fingers into her side, relishing in the soft, sweet-as-fuck giggle she gives me. “Little brat.”
“I just thought about the times I’ve been at your apartment and how you didn’t have much… decoration.”
And by that, she means I don’t have a fucking thing in my apartment outside of basic necessities.
Shit I need to survive.
“So… when I saw it, I just thought it would add a little something to the space. I know you probably don’t know this about me, which, duh, why would you, but I love to thrift.
I go to all of the shops around the Quarter and the Riverwalk on the weekends to see what I can find.
It’s one of my favorite things to do. And I am rambling now, so here.
” She shoves it toward me, and then her eyes widen when she realizes that she just shoved a fucking cactus at me. “Oh God, I’m so sor—”
“Maisie,” I say, cutting her off before she can freak out about nothing.
I take Carl the fucking cactus out of her hands and place it beside us on the kitchen counter before turning back to her.
My palms curve around her jaw, framing her face.
“Thank you. I’m pretty sure no one has ever bought me anything before, so this would be the first.”
The space between her brows pulls tight, but before she can ask anything related to what I just said, I slant my mouth over hers and kiss her.
I’m not ready for questions, and I doubt I ever will be, but fuck… This means something to me. Something she doesn’t understand and probably never will.
I’ve never had anyone buy something for me.
To care enough to think about my apartment being so bare that she thought I needed something to brighten it up.
A gesture that to her probably seemed small… but to me? It somehow feels monumental.
Maisie sighs into my mouth, and I sweep my tongue through her lips, tasting the sweet flavor of her coffee and the gloss on her lips combined.
So fucking sweet.
Always so goddamn sweet.