Chapter 26
Rome
The townhouse is set up for romance.
Bodi’s gone for five days, the acute pain in my groin has finally become more of a dull ache, and Billie has neither class nor work in the morning.
Dinner just arrived, the wine is chilling, there are candles burning, and I even bought a bouquet of flowers.
Part of me thinks it’s overkill, an old-fashioned kind of romance that a twenty-two-year-old might find corny.
But I don’t believe that.
Billie is a bit of an old soul. I believe losing her parents the way she did changed her—how could it not?—and forced her to grow up faster than she would have if they’d survived. She and Bodi both took on a lot, and it’s one of the reasons I’m cutting him slack in his overprotectiveness.
Eventually, whether it’s with me or some other guy, he’s going to have to let go. Let Billie live her life. No matter how hard it is for him.
But fuck, the idea of her with another guy sends an unfamiliar churning in my gut.
Jealousy.
What the fuck is that about? We’ve been together less than a month. And yet, I spend every moment I’m not thinking about hockey thinking about her. That’s never happened before. Ever. Not when I was a teenager getting laid for the first time. Not when I was married.
Never.
I hear her steps in the kitchen, and she comes in looking beautifully windblown but also tired.
“Hey, baby.” I take her backpack from her as I lean down to kiss her.
“Mmm. You taste good.” She smiles up at me.
“Shower first or dinner?” I ask.
“Oh, it’s beautiful in here,” she breathes as she leaves the kitchen and takes in the scenario I set up for us tonight. “Is this all for me?”
“Of course not. I invited my mom and the girls over.” I deadpan, waiting for her reaction.
She arches her brows and grimaces. “Then I’m taking a shower and going to bed. I am way too tired for that nonsense tonight.”
We both laugh. “Yeah, like that’s ever going to happen.”
She spies the bouquet of wildflowers on the table and walks in that direction. “Did you buy me flowers?”
“I did. I realized I don’t know what kind you like, so I opted for a variety.”
“Tulips are my favorite,” she says, running a finger along the petals of one of the flowers. “But these are gorgeous. Thank you. You didn’t have to do all of…this.” She motions to the candles.
“I wanted to. You’re working hard right now and I’m basically not doing anything.” I walk up behind her and wrap my arms around her, resting my head on hers. “Besides, you’re always cooking for me, washing the sheets after we make a mess…”
“The sheet-washing is purely hygiene-related,” she says, leaning into me. “But I like cooking for you. I like to cook, period. So even if you weren’t here I’d cook for Bodi and me. Or just for myself because I also like to eat.”
“Same.” I stroke my hand down her arm. “Food or a glass of wine or did you truly want to shower first?”
She hesitates. “This looks and smells amazing, but could I shower first?”
“Absolutely. Go.” I motion toward the stairs.
She disappears and I start bringing the food out of the kitchen. I ordered from an Italian place I know she likes. They sent garlic knots that smell like heaven, so I stick them in the oven to re-warm them and the timer has just gone off when she comes back downstairs.
I’m momentarily breathless as I take in the sight she makes in a short, silky pink robe, tied around her waist, her damp hair falling around her shoulders. Even with bare feet and no makeup, she is truly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
And this smart, gorgeous, hard-working creature wants me ?
Is she blind?
I don’t fucking get it.
I have nothing to offer her.
No money to speak of, no future, no nothing.
Yet she came home to me tonight like there was nowhere she would rather be.
Fuck, if that doesn’t make my dick hard.
Dinner first, horn dog.
“Sit down,” I say.
“What smells so good?”
“I warmed up the garlic knots,” I say.
“They smell amazing.” She plucks one from the foil tray they came in and pops it in her mouth. “Oh, man…these are so good.”
“I wasn’t sure what you liked so I got three different meals. We can share some of each or freeze one for another day or whatever.”
Her eyes meet mine in the dim light, and I swear she’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met. Her pleasure is almost palpable, the way she looks at me with a gaze filled with desire. Heat. But also simple joy.
Has no one ever spoiled her before?
“This is so…wonderful,” she whispers. “You didn’t have to do all this.”
“I wanted to.” I sink down across from her. “We get very little time together and with Bodi gone, I wanted to take advantage of it.”
“Thank you. You really are the sweetest.”
I’m absolutely positive not a single woman in my entire life has ever thought or said that about me.
I’ve never been the kind of guy who puts any effort into romancing a woman.
As a pro athlete, I don’t need to sweeten the pot, so to speak.
Women just want to be with me. Take whatever they can get.
Since nothing was ever expected, I didn’t bother.
Doing it for Billie was just…instinctive.
Like I know deep down in my subconscious that she’s special—and if I want her, I’m going to have to be different than the man I’ve always been.
“So how’s your project coming?” I ask as we dig into chicken parmesan, stuffed cannelloni, and penne in vodka sauce.
“Oh my gosh, I have so much to tell you. Nita made me an offer—we’re talking about me buying a franchise!” Her voice is filled with excitement.
I blink. “A franchise ? Like another diner?”
“We’re thinking somewhere like Burbank.” She gives me a handful of details that make my head spin.
“Honey, are you sure that’s something you want to take on? You haven’t even graduated yet. Do you think you can handle it?”
Her face falls like someone blew out a match on her excitement, and I want to kick myself for not being more careful with how I express my concerns.
“You don’t think I can?” she asks, hurt written all over her face.
“I didn’t mean it that way,” I say quickly. “I just mean, isn’t it a huge financial investment? And are you ready to take on that kind of debt right out of school? And what about grad school?”
Her face relaxes a little. “Well, this is all the very earliest stages of conversation. It would probably be a year to eighteen months before we could make it happen, and in that time, I’d be learning everything about running the diner. I could potentially go to grad school at the same time.
“Again, we don’t have numbers or a timeline yet, it’s just a possibility, but for the first time I’m really excited about something professionally.
I’ve been floundering, trying to figure out what I’m going to do with my fancy degree and the last thing I want is to work nine to five at some entry level job I have to commute to every day.
You know? I mean, you’ve never done anything but hockey—can you picture yourself working a job like that? ”
“No. And I’m sorry if it sounded like I doubted your capabilities. That’s not it at all. I just think it’s a lot for someone who isn’t even out of school.”
“By the time any of this happens, I’ll have at least a bachelor’s degree. Nita wants me to work with her full-time so I can learn the ins and outs.”
I don’t know how I feel about that but it’s not my place to tell her what she can and can’t do with her career. Especially since I have no idea what’s going on with my own.
“I might ask Bodi if he wants to invest,” she says after a moment. “Not now, but next year will be his second year on the team and at that point I think he’ll feel more confident about his place here.”
“Is he worried about being sent down again?”
“I think he is. He’d never admit it out loud, but I know him, and that has to be in the back of his mind. He hasn’t had great numbers this season.”
Well, that part I can sympathize with because I have those same insecurities almost every day.
I just don’t want to talk—or think—about them tonight.
“Well, it’s an exciting opportunity,” I say, refilling our wine glasses. “And I know you’ll be good at whatever you decide to do.”
“That sounds like something you say to someone you think is going to fail but don’t want to hurt their feelings.”
I shake my head. “Not at all. I think you’re brilliant, hard-working, and motivated. If anyone can do it, it’s you. It’s just a lot of money and probably a lot of sacrifice on your part. And if I’m honest, I might be a little jealous.”
“Jealous?” That seems to catch her off-guard. “Of what?”
“That you’re getting your shit together at twenty-two while I’m still a fuck-up at thirty-five.”
“You’re a professional athlete!” she protests in confusion. “How are you a fuck-up?”
“Someday, if you’re bored and have the time, do a deep dive into my media coverage. Read the things they say about me. How the pundits feel about me being on six teams in ten years or?—”
“Fuck the pundits,” she snaps. “They all hate Taylor Swift too, but they’re just jealous of her success.”
“If I had even a fraction of her success or money, I wouldn’t care either, but almost everything they say about me is true. I’m a fuck-up, Billie.”
“You’re not.”
“Want to know why they traded me from the Blizzard?”
“If you want to tell me.”
“I slept with a teammate’s wife. Mind you, I had no idea she was his wife—never met her before or anything—but then after I found out I slept with her again.
Because I didn’t care. Because it turned out they were separated and even though he asked me to leave her alone, so they could work on things… I did it anyway.”
“Self-preservation,” she says softly, shaking her head. “You figured they weren’t your friends anyway, so why bother doing the right thing?”
Sometimes it’s hard to believe she’s only twenty-two—she’s so much more intuitive than other women her age.
“Doesn’t that bother you? Aren’t you worried I’ll do something similar to you? Because if we’re being honest, I don’t know what the hell you see in me.”
Her eyes widen and then she slowly gets to her feet. She walks around the small table and motions for me to scoot back in my chair. Then she pushes between my legs, leans over, and puts her hands on my shoulders.
“I don’t know what. The. Fuck. You’re talking about,” she murmurs, her face close to mine.
“You’re kind and gentle and caring. You work harder than most people, and so what if you’ve been on a bunch of teams?
They just weren’t the right fit. Maybe now that you’re here, you’ve found your place.
With the team…and with me. And who doesn’t have a past?
“As far as what I see in you… you’re sexy and make my heart beat faster every time we’re together, but at the same time you make me feel safe, happy, and loved. And before you freak out, I used that word in a different way than you’re probably thinking. What I mean?—”
“Why would I freak out?” I interrupt, taking one of her hands and kissing the inside of her wrist. “I’m not a teenager—love doesn’t scare me.
We’re not there yet, but I understand the context you meant it in, and I feel the same from you.
You’re not just interested in the pro athlete, you care about the man beneath.
And aside from my mom, I don’t know that any other woman ever has. ”
Our eyes lock, and the look in hers is absolute perfection—lust, need, and understanding all rolled into the sexiest combination.
“Rome.”
“Yeah, baby?”
“Take me to bed.”