Chapter 18
Jamie
I watch her hips sway as she walks down the hallway to the auditorium.
She’s not happy with this little arrangement, and honestly, I don’t know how I feel about it.
I’m pissed that Ashby didn’t let us know about this whole thing earlier.
On the other hand, this will force Ellie and I to work together, spend more time together, learn more about the people we are now.
That could either be a good thing or a really, really bad thing. I don’t know what to think. I’m not good for her, I know that. She deserves someone who isn’t such a fucking mess. Someone who has their shit together. Someone who hasn’t already broken her heart once.
But fuck, do I want her.
It’s selfish as hell, and I don’t care. I can’t stop it.
Every time I look at her, my body remembers what she tasted like, the way she smelled when she was warm and undone, the sounds she made when she stopped holding herself back.
My mouth remembers what it felt like to kiss her.
My dick remembers what it felt like to be buried inside her.
She’s slowly overtaking all of my thoughts and my focus, and working together so closely isn’t going to help matters.
But it’s not like I can tell Ashby to go fuck himself.
I do enjoy the coaching gig, and I’d rather not get canned.
So I have to do this. We have to work together, and I have to rein in my thoughts and feelings towards her and stay professional.
Against my better judgement, I pull my phone out of my pocket and pull up her contact.
Ellie Monroe
Me: We should loop in Facilities. The rink setup will matter.
Ellie Monroe: I’ll handle it. Focus on your team.
Me: You’re bossy.
Ellie Monroe: I am not.
I can’t help myself. I wish I could take it back as soon as I press send, but it’s too late.
Me: I like it.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Three little dots appear and then disappear about four times before disappearing all together. I’m a fucking idiot. She already doesn’t want to do this, and I go ahead and say something like that?
I try to imagine her face when she got the message. Was she pissed or was she flustered? Did she smile or grimace? Honestly, she probably rolled her eyes and tossed her phone to the side, not thinking anything of it.
I really don’t want to make her life complicated, but for some reason, I need her to know that I’m not that guy anymore.
I’m not the guy that up and left her without a word.
I’m not the guy that can’t balance life and hockey.
I’ve grown, and as much as I want to get back to my team, I also want to prove to Ellie that I’m not the guy she thinks I am.
She needs to understand that if she gave me another chance, even though I don’t deserve it, that it would be different this time. I wouldn’t hurt her.
Later that night, I’m washing my dishes from dinner when Ellie walks into the kitchen.
She’s wearing tiny shorts and a t-shirt that’s so big it almost covers them.
My eyes wander down her legs, landing on her pink toenails before making their way back up to her blushing face.
She knows I was checking her out, and I don’t even care.
She can’t come down here looking that good and expect me not to look.
I’m only human. I mentally tell my dick to calm down before he causes a scene.
Ellie makes her way toward me, leaning over the counter to reach for a plate in the cupboard overhead. She stands on her toes and reaches, but the plate is too far back. I watch her struggle for a moment, her shirt riding up a bit, revealing her ass to me. Goddamn, why’d I look?
She falls back on her heels and huffs in defeat. I smirk, looking down at her and trying not to laugh at the adorable pout on her face.
“Do you need help?” I ask calmly. Her eyes narrow as she glares at me like the answer to that question is obvious. It is, I just want her to ask for it.
“Use your words, Ellie. Do you need me to help you?” She visibly shrinks at the use of her name. She hates asking for help. We have that in common.
She nods, and I shake my head and tsk.
“Tell me,” I demand, turning the sink off and wiping my hands on a towel before crossing my arms over my chest and leaning back on the counter.
I watch as the internal struggle she’s having fades into resolve.
“Can you grab me a plate?” she asks, and I shake my head.
“Can I grab you a plate…” I wait for her to finish the sentence. She rolls her eyes, and I chuckle. She’s annoyed, and I’m finding this kind of amusing.
“Can you grab me a plate, please,” she asks again, this time emphasizing the please at the end.
I turn around and easily grab a plate from the cupboard, handing it to her with a smile.
“Was that so hard?” I ask her. She snatches the plate from me before walking away and placing it on the counter.
“I want you to bring some ideas to our meeting tomorrow. If this event is going to happen any time soon, we need to come up with a plan,” she states, all business.
She places a piece of chicken onto her plate, along with some rice and puts it in the microwave. I lean over the island, watching her as she stares at the microwave and avoids looking at me. When it beeps, she removes the plate and places it back on the counter, all without looking up.
“Why are you watching me?” she asks, cutting her chicken into pieces. She stabs a piece, and I watch as she pulls the empty fork out of her mouth and chews. Why am I hard right now? I should not be hard just watching her eat. There is something seriously wrong with me.
“I’m not,” I lie, because it’s clear that I am.
“I can see you,” she replies, her eyes narrowed.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I shrug, feigning innocence. The truth is, I don’t know why I’m watching her, but I can’t stop.
“Did you hear me?”
Fuck, what did she say?
I nod. “Yeah.”
Ellie glares at me because she knows I’m full of shit.
“So you’ll do it then?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Great, I’ll let them know you’re up for it,” she smiles, taking another bite of her chicken.
Wait what?
“Up for what?” I inquire, afraid of what I’d just agreed to. I should have been paying attention to her, but I’m too distracted by the way her mouth moves as she chews her food. I know it can do a lot more than that from firsthand experience, and fuck. Now I’m thinking about blowjobs. Jesus, Jamie.
“The naked photoshoot for the hockey players. I think it’ll raise a lot of money,” she shrugs and gives me an innocent smile. It takes a moment for my brain to understand what she just said. Did she just say, ‘naked photoshoot’?
Standing up straight, I rub the back of my neck nervously.
“Wait, no. No naked hockey players. We can’t—”
Ellie cackles. Like throws her head back, slaps her knee, and laughs hysterically. Did she just wipe a fucking tear away?
“You should have seen your face! That’s what you get for not listening to me,” she wipes at her eyes again before finally settling down. What the hell just happened?
“I told you to bring some ideas to the meeting tomorrow. For the event.”
I nod, taken aback by her playful attitude.
She hasn’t let herself go like this in front of me in forever.
I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen her laugh like that.
So carefree and real. The sight sends a tingle down my spine.
She’s beautiful when she laughs. I could listen to that laugh for hours. I want to make her laugh more.
“Right,” I say. “Yeah, I’ll think of some stuff.”
“Good.”
She finished her food, cleans off her plate, and places it in the dishwasher before turning back to me.
“I’ll see you at ten,” she tells me before walking out of the kitchen, leaving me to figuratively bang my head against a wall for not being able to control my thoughts.
I’ve never been one to lose my mind over a woman. Plenty have thrown themselves at me over the years, but I never felt like I needed them. Not how I feel like I need Ellie. Like if I don’t have her, I’ll combust.
I feel like a teenager that can’t control their hormones. I'm a grown ass man. I shouldn’t be struggling to keep it together when she’s around. Yet here I am. Trying not to cum in my pants at the image of her lips wrapped around that fork and imagining it was my dick instead.
Lucky goddamn utensil.