Chapter 10
Chapter
Ten
Serena
Dinner with Rudy and Gemma is both fun and delicious.
They have multiple wood-burning fireplaces so their house is warmer than mine and the baked potatoes came out great.
The burgers are cooked to perfection, with melted cheese and all the condiments.
Joey is happily gnawing on a hot dog and some potato chips Gemma put out for him.
They open a bottle of red wine that the four of us are sipping now that we’ve finished eating.
“Storm like this only happens once every decade or so,” Rudy muses. “The last one was bad, but we never lost power.”
“It may be off for a few more days,” West says. “I was thinking tomorrow we might try to get that tree out of the road.”
Rudy nods. “Yeah, we’re gonna need supplies soon, and I saw that things are open in Alpharetta.”
“Alpharetta is where the arena is,” West says thoughtfully. “If they have power, I might have to get to work tomorrow. We’re supposed to leave on a road trip the day after, but I don’t know what’s happening at the airport.”
“Is the airport open?” I ask.
Rudy shakes his head. “Not yet, but they’re saying tomorrow.”
“Arena?” Gemma asks curiously. “What do you do, West?”
He glances at me and I give him a little nod since I’ll most likely tell them who he is anyway.
“I play for the Atlanta Thunder,” West says casually.
There’s a beat of silence.
“The new pro hockey team?” Rudy’s eyes widen. “For real?”
“Yup.”
“Well, I’ll be damned.” He eyes him like he’s seeing him for the first time. “Can’t say I know the first thing about hockey but everyone’s been talking about what happened with the head coach. He’s in jail now, isn’t he?”
West nods. “We don’t know the details but he and his wife are both in prison. Our new coach is amazing, though. We like him.”
I have no idea what they’re talking about since I don’t follow hockey at all but that’s okay.
It seems like Rudy and Gemma like him, and that’s the most important thing.
I’d hate it if for some reason they didn’t.
I was a little worried that they’d be upset about me having a male guest, but I’m an adult and I do pay rent.
West told me he’d said we were “new” when Rudy asked about our relationship and I appreciate how protective he’s being. He was intuitive enough to worry about my reputation, even though he doesn’t owe me anything, and I’m grateful.
I also really, really like him.
I don’t want to. I want to be strong and stick to my guns about avoiding hockey players but that’s almost silly now.
He makes me feel safe. Wanted. Like I’m more than some single mom stranded on the side of the road.
Not that I’m expecting anything. He’ll probably disappear once the storm is over, and that’s okay.
Okay, that’s a lie.
I’m going to hate it if he ghosts me.
I’m prepared, though. And he really has been a lifesaver during the storm.
Of course, now I have to worry about my car and how much it’s going to cost to tow it and fix it.
“If we can get the tree out of the road tomorrow,” he says to me, “maybe we can make it to where we left your car and try to get it towed.”
I hesitate.
It’s embarrassing to admit I live paycheck to paycheck. My credit cards aren’t maxed out but they’re getting there. And my car is old.
“Yeah, I guess I have to deal with that now.”
“Your car?” Gemma looks confused.
I tell her about what happened, leaving out the part about that being how West and I met. Instead, I make it sound like I called him, even though I don’t lie outright, and West doesn’t contradict me.
“If you need a loan,” Gemma says gently, “just ask. You can pay us back slowly. You need your car.”
“I do,” I admit, my face flushed with embarrassment.
“We’ll take care of it,” West interjects smoothly. “Don’t worry, angel.”
There is no way I’m letting him pay to get my car fixed, but it’s sweet that he offered.
Everything about West is sweet, which is a problem.
I’ve gotten used to having him around, which is hard to understand since I’ve been on my own a long time.
The truth is, it seems like I can talk to him about anything and he doesn’t judge.
He’s never said a word about my finances or my home or anything else, even though there’s no doubt I struggle with money.
He listens when I tell stories about my childhood or my job, and it’s been so nice to have someone to talk to.
And I don’t know how I’m going to go back to the silence at night.
Once Joey’s in bed, I usually revel in having an hour or so to myself. Having spent the last two nights with West, it’s going to feel uncomfortably quiet.
We hang out with Rudy and Gemma until Joey starts falling asleep.
We thank them for their hospitality, and then West picks Joey up and carries him as we make our way back to my place.
I get him to bed without any stories tonight and by the time I come out, West has gotten the fire in the stove roaring and he’s on the couch doing something on his phone.
“Everything okay?” I ask, sinking down beside him.
“Yeah, just texting my coach, letting him know I may run out of phone battery if this goes on much longer and asking if he knows if we’re traveling the day after tomorrow.”
“Are you?” I ask carefully, hoping my disappointment isn’t too obvious.
“He doesn’t know yet. He says we’ll know tomorrow. Airport is operating at limited capacity so it depends on what happens. I guess a couple of the guys can’t get out of their neighborhoods, so we’ll see.”
“I promise you this isn’t a normal Georgia winter,” I say. ”It’s truly an anomaly.”
“My first winter in Georgia,” he says drolly. “I’m not impressed.”
“Well, before you know it it’ll be summer and the humidity will be thick and heavy and we’ll all be hoping for cooler weather.”
“You’re probably right. We always want what we don’t have.”
We’re quiet for a moment and then he holds out an arm, indicating he wants me to snuggle into his side. I hesitate because I shouldn’t be this comfortable or affectionate with him, but in the end I give in.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. “You’re quieter than usual.”
“Just thinking about my car and what I’m going to do once the storm is over.”
“Like I said at dinner, I’ll help you with the car.”
Because he feels sorry for me? Because we fooled around?
My insecurity is rearing its ugly head, and I can’t seem to stop it.
“You don’t have to do that, West. I know you’re anxious to get back to your life.”
“You say that like we’re never going to see each other again.” He looks genuinely confused.
“I thought you don’t date redheads?” There. I said it.
“I thought you don’t date hockey players?” he counters, arching a brow.
“Weren’t we just being glib?” I pause, hoping we’re on the same page with all of this. “Because you said you were going to be my…person.” And I’ll be crushed if it turns out that was just talk.
“I meant it.”
There’s another beat of silence because I’m not sure what this means.
“Are we going to…date?” I ask finally.
“I don’t know what we’re going to call it but I assumed we would see each other again.” He hesitates. “Don’t you want to?”
“I don’t want you to show up out of guilt because I let you weather out the storm here.”
He chuckles. “You think I’d do something like that out of guilt? I like you. We have a lot in common. You’re beautiful. I love touching you. I’m not making any promises, but there’s no reason we can’t spend time together. We’re both busy, but I always make time for my friends.”
Friends.
Part of me is disappointed at his use of that word, but what did I expect?
“Besides,” he continues when I don’t respond. “I seem to recall us planning a cookoff.”
That makes me laugh. “We did.”
“I don’t know my schedule yet because of the weather, but once we get through this, we’ll sync calendars and come up with a day.”
“And what does the winner of this cook off get?” I ask playfully.
“If you win, you plan a day doing anything you want—I pay for and participate in whatever it is.”
“And if you win?”
His eyes darken. “We find a sitter for Joey, and you do anything I want.”
I frown. “I mean, that’s fair, but there have to be limits… I’m not playing hockey or anything like that.”
“Of course not. I’m talking about going to a baseball game or a day of golf or something. I’d never ask you to do something you’d be genuinely uncomfortable doing.”
For some reason, that makes me think about what we did last night on the couch. And somehow, I know what he just said applies to the bedroom too.
“Basically, whoever wins gets to plan a fun day.”
“Exactly.”
“You’re a sweet guy, West.” I tilt my head to gaze up at him.
“I try to be.” He brushes a few errant tendrils of hair out of my face and then bends his head to kiss me. He’s not tentative now, taking my mouth possessively.
And I let him because kissing him is nirvana.
He pulls me close and I straddle him again, but this time his hands are under my T-shirt, sliding beneath the sports bra I’ve been wearing for two days. Without breaking our kiss, his fingers drift to the front and he gently cups my breasts.
Oh, God.
This is amazing.
He runs his thumbs back and forth across the nipples, teasing me into a heightened state of arousal. Not that I need much encouragement. The moment he touches me my body takes notice. But this is a sensual assault because my breasts are incredibly sensitive.
“You like that, angel?” he asks softly.
“Mm, yes.”
“I’d love to strip you down, one inch at a time, lick you from head to toe.”
I shudder just thinking about it.
“But it’s too cold for that,” he says. “So, I’ll settle for this.
” He lifts my hoodie and T-shirt together, bunching them up over my breasts without pulling them over my head.
It’s awkward, but before I can complain, he nuzzles my cleavage.
Then he tugs the fabric of my bra up, allowing my breasts to pop free.
Without a word, he sighs and sucks one nipple into his mouth.
“Oh, fuck.” I hiss out the words because my sensitive nipple immediately hardens into a tight little peak. Using his teeth, he tugs gently, just enough pressure to make me squirm without hurting me. Then he uses his tongue to soothe the hardened point.
“Yum,” he whispers before moving to the other breast. He licks and sucks, nibbles and bites, going back and forth until I’m whimpering with need.
“West, please!” I cry softly.
“You don’t know how badly I want to fuck you,” he growls. “But even though we can’t, we’re taking this to the bed.” He lifts to his feet still holding me, and I wrap my arms around his neck.
He walks us into the bedroom, kicks the door shut with his foot, and drops me onto the bed.