16. Daltyn
DALTYN
She’s only been in my cabin for two days, and I’ve already seen her naked.
As I toss my hockey stick back into the closet, I know damn well that image isn’t leaving my head anytime soon.
My sweatpants and tee are wet from reaching into the shower and grabbing her so she didn’t fall.
But wet clothes are the least of my worries right now.
I was so damn close to grabbing her and kissing her. But I knew if I started, I wouldn’t stop unless she told me to.
And judging by the hungry look on her face when she caught me staring, I’m nearly positive she wouldn’t have.
I was an idiot to think I could keep her under my roof and not want to devour every inch of her. To pound her into the mattress until she comes around my dick.
There’s a voice in my head that warns that’s only one piece of what I want from her, but I push it away. Relationships are not my thing. And Peyton deserves someone who can give her that. Someone who can give her everything her heart desires, including marriage and kids.
But that man isn’t me .
The door opens, and Thelma steps inside. Her brows raise as she takes in my wet clothes. “Hell of a workout?”
I shake my head. “No. It’s a long story.”
Peyton comes out, wet hair hanging loose around her shoulders. She’s wearing a pair of leggings and my fucking sweatshirt. Even with the medical boot on her foot, she looks stunning.
“Oh,” she says, her cheeks scarlet. “I didn’t realize?—”
“Thelma, this is Peyton. Peyton, Thelma. She cleans and does laundry.”
“Nice to meet you,” Peyton says, still blushing.
Thelma stares at Peyton for a moment, then her sharp gaze moves to me. “The pleasure is mine.”
Then her eyes move back to Peyton. “So you’re Daltyn’s?—”
“Friend.” The word rushes out. “She’s a friend who’s staying here. Temporarily.”
Peyton blinks a few times before she says, “Yes. I’m just a friend. I’ll only be here a short time.” She jerks a finger over her shoulder. “I left my phone in my room. I think I hear it.” She whirls around and hurries off as fast as the boot will allow.
“Friend, huh?” Thelma smirks at me. “That’s one gorgeous friend.”
I shrug. “Yeah, she’s pretty.”
“Pretty?” Thelma stares after her. “She could be a model.”
I don’t say anything.
“My son is going through a divorce. Do?—”
“No. You’re not introducing them,” I snap. I don’t mean to, but the thought of Peyton meeting some other guy sends a wave of jealousy through me that I can’t control .
Thelma grins and goes to the closet with the cleaning supplies. “Friends, my ass,” she mutters.
I roll my eyes and head up the stairs to my loft. I’m never introducing Thelma to Gram. They’ll gang up on me for sure.
And I have bigger problems right now. Like how I’m going to get Peyton’s panties in the wash without putting them in my hamper. I guarantee Thelma will find them in there if I do and will have more questions than I’m willing to answer.
My phone beeps. It’s the group chat.
Ford: Anyone wanna skate tonight?
Connor: I’m in.
Jake: Me too.
Me: I’m in.
Cole: I’m game.
Ford: Seven work?
Everyone confirms, including me.
Connor: Daltyn, you can bring Peyton.
Fucker.
Cole: Yeah, bring her.
Jake: I second it.
Ford: She can sit with Harper and Allie.
Fuck.
Me: She’s wearing the boot.
Connor: Sexy.
Cole: What does that have to do with anything?
Jake: Stop making excuses.
Ford: You’re bringing her. I told Harper she’s coming.
Connor: I just told Allie.
Goddamn assholes.
Me: Fine.
Connor: Don’t sound pissy. You know you want her there.
Me: Shut up, asshole.
Cole: Look at the goalie. Using commas in text and shit.
Jake: Oh he’s really got it bad.
Ford: LOL!
Connor: Definitely a sign.
I toss my phone on my bed. I’m not saying anything more to those jackasses. They’ll just keep going if I do.
I grab Peyton’s panties, shoving them into my pocket.
Now, if I can just sneak them into Peyton’s hamper without her or Thelma seeing me, I can get on with my day.
Five minutes later, I’m hiding behind one of the fake potted plants, watching as Thelma vacuums. Peyton comes out and heads to the kitchen.
Now’s my chance.
I slip out from behind it, scurrying down the hall.
The vacuum shuts off, and Peyton says to her, “Do you know where the knives are?”
I duck into the bathroom before Thelma sees me.
I hear them talking and the drawer opening.
Good. Keep talking, ladies.
I shoot out of the bathroom and hurry into Peyton’s room. I grab the panties and toss them inside the hamper.
Now, if I can only get out of here without being spotted.
I turn—and freeze.
Her pink vibrator sits on the nightstand, gleaming in the sunlight streaming through the window.
Did she use it last night?
Or this morning when I was running?
The image of Peyton lying on the bed, teasing herself with that toy, makes me both hot and jealous.
“Thanks, Thelma.” Peyton’s footsteps are growing closer.
Shit.
I look around, debating my options.
Then I drop to the floor and scurry under the bed.
I hold my breath when I see her sneaker and boot enter the room. She keeps drawing closer, then stops.
Fuck. She knows I’m here.
I hear the drawer opening and then closing.
Then she heads back out of the room.
I slowly release the breath I'd been holding, making sure she’s gone before I crawl out.
I glance at her nightstand. She put her vibrator away. It’s in the drawer.
I leave it alone. Her panties have gotten me into enough trouble.
Thelma fires up the vacuum again. This time, I hear it in the hallway.
Fuck.
I look around... then open the window.
I hoist myself through it, dropping down to the other side just as the corner of the vacuum moves by Peyton’s doorway.
Staying low, I creep around the house until I get to the other side.
Then I straighten and calmly head toward the porch.
I glance in the window. Peyton’s back is to me as she folds the blanket.
I jog up the steps, then enter through the front door.
“Hey.” She gives me a tight smile, her cheeks red. “Were you outside?”
I nod. “Yeah. I needed to check something in the shed.”
She nods. “Oh. Well, um... I just want to apologize.” Her eyes dart toward the hallway. Even though the vacuum is still running, she lowers her voice. “For the shower incident.”
“It’s fine.” I start toward the refrigerator. “Next time you want me to join you in the shower, you don’t have to scream bloody murder. Just ask.”
She throws the blanket at me. I catch it, laughing.
“Daltyn Guyer.” She shakes her head. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”
I grab a bottle of water. “Never.”
She shakes her head, but there’s a grin on her face.
“By the way, the guys want to skate tonight. Harper and Allie are going to be there.”
Her eyes light up. “Oh. Can I go?”
“On one condition.”
She points at me. “You better not say I have to shower with you.”
“No,” I choke out. “That’s not my condition.”
That’s a better one. But there’s no way I’m going to make it to the rink if I start that.
“What then?”
“You have to wear my sweatshirt.”
She looks down at it. “It’s dirty. I’ve slept in it.”
Jesus Christ.
I move toward the island so it shields my erection. “I have more.”
“Why do you want me to wear your sweatshirt?”
“It’s going to be cold. You don’t have warm clothes.”
“Oh.” There’s a flash of disappointment before she masks it. “Good point. But why can’t I wear mine?”
“I don’t think it’ll be dry before we leave. I need to run an errand and I plan to take you with me. Wasn’t planning to come back here before going to the rink.”
“Oh, yeah. Okay.” She points at the hallway. “I’ll go get changed.”
I jog up the stairs to my loft, my mind whirling. What the hell errand can I run ?
My mind is blank. I’ve already gotten groceries. We don’t have time to go shopping. At least, that’s not what Allie said when I texted her and asked. She told me to be prepared for at least four to six hours while she browsed and tried things on.
Fuck.
What a tangled web I’m weaving because I don’t want to admit the truth.
I just want her to wear my sweatshirt in front of my teammates.
I wish I had my stick. I’d hit myself over the head with it for being so damn foolish.