Chapter 20
Rome
I wake up alone but hear movement downstairs, telling me Billie is still home. I have no idea what time it is, my thigh is throbbing, and I have to piss like the proverbial race horse, but I just want the gorgeous woman downstairs to come back to bed—the one we made a mess of last night.
Everything is a disaster: a blanket on the floor, sheets deliciously tangled, and the towel we slept on half-wrapped around me since we managed to leave a wet spot neither of us wanted to sleep on.
And I didn’t even make love to her.
It was all kissing and touching, fingers and mouths and cocks and pussies. Somehow, I managed to get her into the sixty-nine position, another thing she said she didn’t particularly enjoy in the past—but now it appears to be her new favorite.
I haul myself out of bed, wincing at the pain but pushing into the bathroom so I can clean up. Between being up half the night, the pain in my groin, and the meds I’m taking, I don’t look like a man who deserves to be hooking up with someone as beautiful as Billie.
Hooking up?
Part of me feels guilty for thinking about her that way, but what else can this be?
We’re sneaking around because of Bodi, she’s more than a decade younger than me, and the chances that I’ll still be here next season have dropped dramatically now that I’m hurt.
Why would the team keep me? They brought me in to add some grit and intensity—I can’t do that from the injured reserve list.
“Good morning.” Billie is a ray of sunshine as she walks into my bedroom. “I made breakfast. Are you hungry?”
“I could eat.”
“Do you need help going down the stairs?”
“Nah, I’m okay.”
I hold the rail and take one step at a time, with Billie hovering next to me, and then limp into the kitchen.
“Smells good. What is it?”
“I made a breakfast casserole with all kinds of yummy stuff. And we can freeze the leftovers so we’ll have more when I don’t have time to cook.” She bustles around the kitchen, pulling something that smells incredible from the oven.
“Coffee?” she asks.
“You don’t have to serve me,” I mumble, slightly embarrassed.
She cocks her head. “You pulled a groin muscle and are having some issues moving around—is it emasculating for you that I’m trying to help? Or is this morning-after awkwardness? Because it doesn’t have to be. I’m a grown woman. If it was just a one-off, you can say?—”
Jesus, that’s not the direction I want this morning to go, so I cut her off by pressing my lips to hers.
I let them linger until she winds her arms around my neck and I can slide my tongue in to toy with hers.
She tastes like coffee, which I happen to like, and I let my hands drift down to skim her ass.
“Good morning,” I whisper against her mouth. “And no, this isn’t morning-after awkwardness. It’s also not emasculating for you to make me breakfast. I just didn’t want you to feel like you had to. You wait on people all day and night at work—you shouldn’t have to at home.”
“Believe me, once your leg is healed, you’ll be on your own.”
I chuckle. “Deal.”
Now she’s more relaxed, which I like much better.
“How, um, how do you like your coffee?”
“A little cream, no sugar.”
“Same as me.” She makes two cups while I serve the casserole, which smells delicious. I see eggs, cheese, sausage, and potatoes, which is pretty much nirvana as far as breakfast goes.
She settles beside me at the counter and we eat in silence for a few minutes.
“This is delicious,” I say. “Thank you for making breakfast.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Now, before you get your panties in a twist—there is something we need to talk about.”
“Uh oh.” She turns, her brows slightly knitted together.
“There’s no uh oh.” I playfully tweak her nose. “Why is your knee-jerk reaction to everything that something bad is coming?”
“Because when it comes to men, pretty much every single one of them was either a complete douche or let my brother scare them away.”
I put down my fork and meet her gaze directly. “I do my best not to be a douche, although my ex-wives might say otherwise. But your brother doesn’t scare me. Not even a little. However, not playing hockey next year does.”
“Is there truly a correlation between those two things?” she asks.
“Look, the Rome you’ve been spending time with isn’t the same guy he was, say, five years ago. I’m trying to change—mellow out some. I’m hoping I’ve grown up in some ways. But not everyone realizes that. I’ve played on six teams in ten years. You know why?”
She slowly shakes her head.
“Because no one wants me in the room.” Fuck, it’s hard to admit that. “Because I’m a shit disturber, both on and off the ice. I don’t make friends easily. And once they see that I don’t fit in, they cut me loose.”
Instead of sympathy or protests, her eyes blaze angrily. “Seriously? I swear, hockey culture is the worst!” She looks genuinely pissed off. “They hire you to be a shit disturber, but then when you do what they hired you to do, they don’t like it? I mean, what the hell is that about?”
I want to smile at her ferocity, but I need to get out the things that are on my mind.
“I appreciate your anger on my behalf,” I say quietly, “but it’s part of the life.
And as things intensify between us, like they did last night, you have to keep in mind that I don’t know how long I’m going to be here.
I could get traded now, I could get some bare minimum offer in the off-season…
or, I could be forced into retirement if no one picks up my contract once I become a free agent. ”
She blinks, and I can practically see the wheels turning.
“I understand the words,” she says after a moment, “but I’m not sure I understand the nuances of what you just said from a professional perspective.”
“I’m here on a one-year contract,” I explain patiently. “Now that I’m hurt, I don’t know what I bring to the table. The trade deadline is coming up, which means they might want to get rid of me ASAP, offload my contract and grab someone healthy.”
She grimaces. “So there’s no loyalty?”
“Honey, I’ve only been here since January. I haven’t given them a reason to be loyal. From a business perspective, why would they keep me? If we make the playoffs, and right now it looks good, they need solid players, and we have no idea how productive I’ll be when I get back.”
“And if they don’t trade you?”
I sigh. “So much can happen between now and the official end of the season. I could come back in time for the playoffs and have a great run. We might win the championship, and everything will fall into place perfectly on paper—but they still might not have enough cap space to keep me.”
“Again, no loyalty?”
“Welcome to hockey.”
“I never dealt with any of this with Bodi because he had a solid place on the Rebels and it’s only lately that I realized how difficult it must have been for him, knowing he might never make it to the big leagues.”
The Rebels are the Phantoms’ minor league affiliate, which is where Bodi played his entire career up until last year’s playoffs.
“So I have no idea what’s going to happen with me,” I say gently. “Which means I could be leaving just as you and I are getting started—and while I’m not afraid of your brother, the last thing I want to do is break your heart.”
“You’re saying I shouldn’t have jumped your bones last night,” she says with a sad smile.
“Not at all. Last night was the best night I’ve had in a very long time—even with the injury slowing us down.” I reach out a hand, and wait for her to take it, but she doesn’t.
“I don’t think we took things slow at all.
” Her smile is fond but a little sad as she stares off at some invisible spot in the distance.
“But the truth is, I like you and I don’t know how to turn that off.
How to stop caring about you and just be your roommate.
Honestly, I don’t want to. I’m a lot younger than you but I don’t feel like there’s some huge gap when we’re together.
It feels easy. Natural. The thing with Bodi is a problem but he’ll come around if we get to a point where it’s serious. ”
“Baby, I’m not sure I know how to do serious anymore.”
“Does that mean you’re not willing to try?”
Oh, hell. How do I answer that?
I want her so much I can’t stand it. But there are so many obstacles. For both of us.
“It’s not that I’m unwilling, it’s that there’s so much uncertainty in my life...”
The look in her eyes is one I haven’t seen in a woman before. Resignation coupled with understanding and a maturity beyond her years.
“I get it,” she says after a beat. “You have two ex-wives, so you don’t trust women.”
My brows shoot up. “No—that’s not it. Not even close. You are nothing like them. I’m crazy about you, Billie.”
“Then why won’t you give us a chance?”
Because for once in my damn life I’m trying to do something…selfless? It’s not my M.O., but I want to be better. For myself but more for her.
“What if I get traded next week?” I ask instead.
“I don’t know,” she admits, resting her chin in her hands. “I don’t have all the answers, Rome. I just have how I feel. Only you can decide if I’m worth risking your heart again. I’m willing.”
God fucking dammit.
As I stare into her pretty blue eyes I already know I’m going to throw caution to the wind.
She’s special.
And I’m a million percent sure I’ll never find anyone like her again. There’s a huge chance she’s going to break my heart, but never touching her again, or hearing her laugh, or sitting across a breakfast table with her is unfathomable.
This time I take her hand without waiting. “We still have to keep things on the down low until the end of the season. You’re minimizing the thing with Bodi, but we both know it’s not going to be easy.”
Her eyes twinkle. “Wait—I feel like I missed a very important part of the conversation. Are we going to give this a try?”
I lean over and brush my lips across hers. “Yes.”
“Good thing you said yes. I really didn’t want to have to kick your ass before class.”
I don’t know whether to laugh or worry—because I have no doubt she would have.
And it’s kind of hot.