20. Sienna
SIENNA
Calvin King of the ice Keller: We are still watching the game. Be ready in an hour.
Sienna: I’m still at work.
Ihadn’t considered where the Vipers were playing tonight or the time difference for the puck drop.
Calvin King of the ice Keller: What time are you done?
Sienna: My last client of the day just left.
Calvin King of the ice Keller: So you’re about to leave, right?
Sienna: You excited to see me or something?
I shouldn’t ask, but I can’t help myself.
Calvin King of the ice Keller: Maybe…
Calvin King of the ice Keller: You’re gonna wear my jersey again, right?
A smile pulls at my lips.
“Is that Calvin?” Bea asks when she walks into the room to find me grinning at my cell like an idiot.
“Maybe,” I hedge just like Calvin did with me a few moments ago.
“I can’t believe you’re ditching me to watch the game with an actual hockey player. So freaking rude,” she teases.
“You’re watching it with Sutton, Casey, and Freya. It’s not like you don’t have plans.”
She pokes her tongue out at me. “Maybe not. But you’re the only one of us who might actually get some hockey action tonight.”
“Oh no. That will not be happening,” I state firmly.
“Well, you’ve got better self-control than I have.”
I glance down at her growing belly.
“We know all about your self-control around hockey players. Maybe I’m learning from your mistakes.”
“Bitch,” she teases with a wide smile.
I might mock her, but really, I’m jealous and she knows it.
But while I might have a hot man willing to do the dirty with me right now, I’m achingly aware that what Bea and Rett have found is rare.
We’re not living in a movie or a novel; fuckboys don’t just change their ways because of one woman very often.
We might all have illusions of being the one to change a player, but really, it isn’t a common occurrence.
Generally, the rule is once a player, always a player, and I refuse to get sucked in only to be chewed up and spit back out a little down the road.
“I still can’t believe you’re going on a date with Calvin Keller,” she says, walking toward the door.
“It’s not a date,” I protest.
“Funny, because I think I remember saying those very same words to you before I went out with Rett for the first time.”
“It’s different. You’re pregnant with his baby.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
“Ugh.” I groan once she’s out of earshot before focusing back on my cell.
Sienna: I’m not sure I’ve got your jersey.
Calvin King of the ice Keller: Bull. Shit.
Calvin King of the ice Keller: You wore it to the game you watched with your brother.
Calvin King of the ice Keller: He had a Keller jersey, too.
Sienna: No, you must be mistaken. I think I’ve got a Rivers jersey. And Garrett was wearing a Storm one that night.
Calvin King of the ice Keller: Hmmm…
Tingles erupt as if he just groaned that in my ear.
Calvin King of the ice Keller: I’ve got spares if you’ve lost it.
Sienna: Of course you have. I bet you have them hanging around your bedroom so they’re the last thing you look at at night and first thing in the morning.
Calvin King of the ice Keller: I’ll have you know, I’ve worked my ass off to have my name on that jersey. I’ll look at it whenever I like…
“Shit.” Did I just offend him?
Surely not.
Sienna: At least you know you’ve got something to wear.
Calvin King of the ice Keller: The only person I want wearing my jersey tonight is you.
“Oh, Jesus.”
Calvin King of the ice Keller: Have you left yet? I don’t wanna miss puck drop.
I pull my coat on and throw my purse over my shoulder before marching through the salon, waving to the girls before finally climbing into my car.
Sienna: Shame we don’t get to see the warm-ups on TV. They’re the best part.
Calvin King of the ice Keller: Why would you want to watch them when I won’t be on the ice? I could give you a one-on-one preview if you like.
Heat races through me at the thought of him dropping to his hands and knees and grinding his hips like they all do.
Sienna: Can you get down on your hands and knees at the moment?
Putting my cell in the center console, I start my engine and pull out of my space.
I don’t check my cell until I get to a stop sign, and when I do, I find that my message has been read, but there’s no reply.
My stomach knots. I shouldn’t have said that. I know he’s struggling right now; teasing him about what he’s incapable of doing is insensitive.
Sienna: I’m sorry, that was a low blow.
I stare at my screen as the message is read, but he still doesn’t reply, and I end up getting beeped by the car behind because I miss the light turning green—whoops.
There’s still no reply by the time I get home, and as I ride the elevator to my floor, I start to wonder if he’s going to cancel.
I get ready as quickly as I can, aware that the minutes are quickly ticking down. In an ideal world, I’d wash my hair, but there isn’t time for that. So, after the world’s fastest shower, I make the best I can of my hair and makeup before pulling on a pair of jeans, a tank, and a pair of boots.
I pause with Calvin’s jersey in my hand.
He never told me what we were doing tonight.
The thought of watching the game alone with him in his apartment sends a rush of anticipation through me.
The last time we were alone for a significant amount of time, he almost kissed me twice, and I came very close to throwing caution to the wind and climbing him like a tree.
Wearing his jersey while alone with him seems like a really stupid thing to do.
Wearing a player’s jersey is a big deal. Okay, sure, I’ve done it a million times before. But I was nothing more than a fan then. Now, I’m…now I’m…something?
I guess we’re friends.
We’re certainly no longer connected just because of our friends.
We’ve been hanging out. We’re messaging.
We’re definitely friends.
I’m still debating my wardrobe choice and whether I should comply with his demand when the buzzer for my apartment sounds.
Oh shit.
My stomach twists with nerves, and with his jersey clutched in a death grip, I make my way toward the front door on shaky legs.
Get it together, I tell myself as I pull the door open.
My breath catches when I find him standing on the other side. He’s trimmed the stubble covering his jaw, his hair is still a little damp, and he’s wearing a Vipers hoodie and a dark pair of jeans and sneakers. He looks hot as hell.
It isn’t until he clears his throat that I realize I haven’t said a word. Instead, I’m just standing here, openly checking him out.
“See something you like?” he asks, my eyes jumping to meet his.
“Um…”
When he reaches out and tugs the fabric from my hand, I let it go without a second thought.
A moment later, he drops it over my head, letting it fall into place.
“I’m not sure I’ve ever put clothes on a woman before,” he murmurs, amusement in his tone.
“It’s still early.”
I gasp, my hand coming up to cover my mouth when I hear the words that just spilled free.
“I…I didn’t mean that,” I stammer as his smirk only grows wider.
“Sure you didn’t,” he says before reaching out and tucking a lock of hair behind my ear as he steps closer. My heart kickstarts as his eyes drop to my lips.
There was a naive part of me that tried to convince myself things would be different tonight. Calvin would realize his mistake in trying to kiss me, and we’d be back to how it was when I was sick. But clearly, that isn’t happening.
“What are we doing tonight?” I squeak as I back away from him, putting some much-needed space between us.
He smirks, following me inside. “Watching a hockey game,” he states, his eyes leisurely tracing every inch of my body.
“You’re infuriating,” I huff. “Are we staying in, or—”
“We’re going to a bar.”
A huge rush of air passes my lips.
“We can stay in if you’d prefer. Although we’d have to go upstairs. My TV is bigger than yours and—”
“No, a bar is great. Fantastic. Can’t wait.”
He frowns at me as I ramble while grabbing my coat and purse.
When I walk past him, heading toward the door, he doesn’t move.
“I thought you were worried we were going to be late and miss the puck drop,” I remind him.
“I…yeah,” he stutters, rubbing his newly trimmed jaw. “I just…You look hot as hell in my jersey, darlin’.”
“Oh,” I breathe, my cheeks heating. “This old thing?” I tease, pulling the fabric from my body. “Someone gave it to me. I didn’t even know who you were at the time.”
He takes a warning step toward me.
“Bullshit. Admit it—you’re my biggest fan, aren’t you?”
“Honestly, no. That award would probably go to my brother. He’s like, low-key obsessed with you. If you ever decided to bat for the other team, he’d be all over you like a rash. I mean, he still would now, given half a chance, but I think he’s very aware of which team you play for.”
His eyes bounce between mine, searching for…something.
“I think the rules of the game changed recently,” he says cryptically before finally making a move to follow me out of my apartment.
“Shall I drive, or are we getting—”
“There’s a car waiting for us downstairs,” he tells me, quickly catching up with me.
“Okay.”
He follows me into the elevator, and the second the doors close, I swear the air is sucked from the small space. All I can see and smell is him.
And goddamn does he look and smell good.
“So, what are the predictions for tonight?” I ask, trying to keep the conversation on the safe topic of hockey.
“I’m hoping for a win,” he says, his voice rough, forcing my eyes to him.
I have to crane my neck back to meet his eyes because I pulled on flat boots, and when I do, I find him staring intently back at me.
“Maybe some overtime, just to make the night last a little longer,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper.
“O-oh.”
Fire licks through my veins, my heart thundering against my ribs. It quickly becomes abundantly obvious that I’m not going to survive this “friendship” with Calvin Keller. He’s too good at sneaking his way beneath my defenses and talking to a part of me that I closed off from men a long time ago.
“Come on,” he says when the doors have been open a few seconds and neither of us has made a move to exit.
A spark shoots up my arm the second his giant hand engulfs mine, tugging me from the elevator.
Harold’s eyes widen when he sees us together, our hands entwined, but he doesn’t say anything, just wishes us a good night before we slip out of the building, and Calvin pulls the car door open for me like a gentleman. Safe to say, that is the first time that’s ever happened to me, and I swoon.
I am so fucked.