Chapter 29
Isla’s bare sexy ass against my groin is the first thing I feel when I wake up the next morning.
Light filters through my blinds, catching strands of her hair where they’ve fallen across my chest.
I inhale the scent of it, expecting the usual herbal and floral scent. But all I smell is sex. Her arousal. Mine.
The urge to wake her with my fingers sliding between her legs, prepping her for my cock again, is too fucking strong to resist.
Carefully, I slip out of bed before I do something stupid.
Because there’s no fucking way I’m waking her.
I spent half the night wondering if I pushed her too far. But everything I remember about last night, Isla more than wanted. She begged for it… with her eyes, her moans, the way she bucked her hips. But fuck, I was too turned on by her to think straight.
And too annoyed with her for not admitting she might be getting attached. That maybe…she broke all my rules.
Last one for me… This is temporary. There will be no expectations on my part, or yours, for this to be anything more than it is.
Because if she did, it’s a problem neither of us needs. One I didn’t sign up for.
One I can’t let myself entertain.
But fuck, my mouth got ahead of me last night. Telling her I’d ruin her for anyone else. The fuck was that shit? I’ve never done that. I’ve had great sex but never staked claim to someone. That wasn’t the deal.
I chalked it up to the heat of the moment but if I know Isla, she’s going to analyze the shit out of it this morning.
I should’ve planned for this. But what kind of egotistical jerk plans for a no-strings attached deal gone wrong?
Maybe I’m speculating. I could be way off and Isla feels absolutely nothing for me.
Who am I kidding? I see the way she looks at me. Like I hung the fucking moon. No one looks at me like that. It makes my stomach squeeze and my chest tighten. Especially when she surprises me, trusts me with something new. She comes through for me, even when it’s out of her comfort zone.
Which I may be way off here—but I don’t think a look from a girl I’m supposed to be giving lessons to, should make my chest or stomach do anything.
I have one goal here. And that’s to keep Shadow showing up to my games, sending me love, and helping me score.
The girl’s got a way of keeping my blood pumping when I’m on the ice. But is also a direct distraction from everything hockey off the ice.
How is that even possible?
I run a hand down my face, studying her for another second. She’s so still. There’s no fidgeting. No tiny crease between her brows. She’s just...comfortable…sated…naked.
In my bed.
My chest does something weird and then for some fucked up, sick and maddening reason, my mother pops into my head.
I shake it off before that woman ruins something else I’m proud of.
And yeah, Isla’s one hundred percent something I’m proud of. Someone I’m proud of. How far she’s come. And how much I’ve got left to teach her.
Jesus Christ, if I can even let this go on.
I am so unbelievably screwed.
I pull on a pair of sweats and quietly slip into the hallway.
I find Grey standing in the kitchen wearing gym shorts and last night’s post-game t-shirt, facing the counter while coffee drips into two mugs.
“Morning, gorgeous,” Grey says. “Coffee’s ready.”
“Thanks, Buttercup.” I shuffle his hair and take one.
He elbows me away. “Oh man, thought you were Meg.” He considers it for a moment, like he’s almost positive that’s right.
“Mm,” I take a sip. “Shit’s good. What’s in this, cinnamon? Meg should come over more often.”
He glances back, then points a butter knife at me. “Bite your tongue.”
He scans me as I sip my coffee, a knowing look in his eyes. “What happened to you last night? Thought you’d meet us at the bar after you drove Isla home.”
I glare at him. “You know I didn’t drive her home.”
“Oh I know.” His brows jump.
A blonde girl I vaguely recognize steps into the hallway wearing one of Grey’s hoodies that’s way too big on her.
She smiles tiredly when she spots him. “There you are.”
Grey smiles back and hands her his coffee. “I was just heading out to the gym and wanted to make sure you had coffee.”
She pouts. “Aww, you’re leaving already?”
I glare at him. “Yeah, you’re leaving already?” He better not be bailing and leaving us to get rid of his date. Any other day, Hunter and I wouldn’t mind, but not with Isla here. If she comes down and this girl sees her here, Isla will freak.
Grey shrugs. “Yeah, K, you wouldn’t mind—oh.” He snaps his fingers. “Right. We’ve got a…stuff going on today. Exterminator. Fumes.”
“Oh, really? Alright. Text me later?” She walks over to Grey, giving him a peck on the lips.
He kisses her back with that signature easy grin. But I notice he doesn’t leave her with a promise.
She twists toward the front door. “Later, Kane.”
I lift two fingers. “Later.”
The front door clicks shut behind her and Grey walks back toward the coffee maker.
I take another sip. “You didn’t like that hoodie, did you?”
He sighs. “Shit. I did.” He races out of the kitchen to try and catch her.
I laugh and pour myself a refill, then step out the back door for some fresh air.
I can’t remember the last time I had someone stay over but they never left wearing anything of mine. I didn’t need rumors spread around that I was dating someone by her showing up on campus wearing something I owned.
Another thing I never do is make someone believe I’m going to text them if I don’t plan on it.
I don’t remember when it happened, but it stopped being an expectation around campus.
I’m always up front from the start. This is a hookup.
Had no problem showing them my phone either.
You won’t find any random girls’ numbers saved in there.
There was my mother. A few distant cousins.
My guidance counselor. My masseuse. Two—maybe three of my teammates’ sisters. Oh, and Maddie, Coach’s daughter.
We each gave her our number to call us if she’s ever in trouble on campus.
We look out for her. The only asshat who refused is Cole.
Said he’s no one’s bodyguard—unless they’re on the ice and wearing our colors.
“And besides,” he said. “Between the rest of you, Mads should be just fine.” It’s no wonder I never see that guy with a girl.
He’s got no game and is as cold as they come.
Anyway, to sum up, no numbers, no expectations. And definitely no breakfast unless it’s to-go.
Until Isla.
I’ve given her all those things without thinking twice. My phone number. My team jacket. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. All things I had to practically force her to accept.
And when I suspected she might be into me, really into me—did I call “Cut” on the whole damn thing? No, I went and claimed I’d ruin her for anyone else, knowing full well she would own me with her pussy after last night.
She shouldn’t trust me the way she does. Shouldn’t look at me like I’ve given her the world. It’s just sex. Good fucking sex.
Anything more…I’m only going to fuck up.
“Dude.” Hunter races up the backyard steps after his morning jog. “I haven’t seen you this deep in thought before breakfast since we were heading to Baltimore to play the Ice Hawks last season.”
I scoff. I had just made captain before that game and been up all night working on our strategy. Replaying it in my head a thousand times.
“It’s the Titans game next Sunday,” I lie, following him inside. I don’t have a class Fridays, but I know Isla’s got one in forty minutes.
Grey’s back, sizzling something up at the stove—and without his hoodie. “Hey, what’s going on?”
“Oh nothing. Cap just suddenly deciding he doesn’t kiss and tell,” Hunter mutters.
“Keep it down, she’s upstairs. And I never kiss and tell.”
“She’s still here?” Hunter whispers. “Oh, this’ll be good.”
“You’re the one who doesn’t do sleepovers, jackass.”
“I totally do them—just not here.”
I roll my eyes as he twists the wooden chair and sits.
“You two finally stop acting like this is all part of your deal?” he does air quotes on the last word.
“It is.” I sigh. “Fuck. It was.” I shake my head because I don’t know how to explain what this is. I don’t just want Isla at every game. I want her in my bed, in my shower, on my mind, and for my name to fucking live with every breath she takes.
Suddenly, the most important rule of all—is the exclusivity one. The only one she better not fucking break. Fuck the rest.
I grunt like I’ve been punched.
“What? You eat some bad eggs or somethin’?”
“Or somethin’.”
I’ve had good sex. Great sex. Hell, I’ve had unforgettable sex. But nothing like last night. Nothing that made me want to eternally possess someone that shouldn’t belong to me.
“He’s fucking cooked,” Grey decides.
“I’m not cooked. I’m just—” I glance behind me. “Like you said, probably just obsessed with the app.”
I don’t want to say that I’m obsessed with Shadow. I like Shadow. She’s fun. But I like the girl behind the app a fuck load more.
“And being obsessed doesn’t make you cooked,” I add, no longer sure who I’m convincing.
We hear footsteps upstairs, and Grey zips his lips, standing to grab another mug for Isla.
“No,” Hunter agrees, then leans in, lowering his voice. “But it does when you’re Kane Andrews and have three months left before playoffs in your senior year and no idea where you’re signing.”
“I like the girl. I’m not losing my mind over her,” I mutter.
“Dude, before you even knew who she was, you were ready to take out a Titans fan because he was touching her.”
That’s one hell of a point. And I hate him for it.
I nod. “Cooked.”
He nods back. “Cooked.”
“How you feelin’?” I ask Isla when we’re out walking Ellie later in the afternoon. She only has one class on Fridays. The guys and I have none, since we’re typically prepping for weekend games or traveling.
I waited for her on campus. Took her to lunch then brought her back here.
It went against everything I planned for the day.
Drive Isla to school.
Tell her last night was amazing and I’ll see her at the next game.