Kiera side-eyed him. “You have an entire off-season to spend here. And trust me, summers in LA are the best. You’re going to want a house. Trust me.”
Mitch checked another groan before it escaped, settling for rolling his eyes and hoping she didn’t see. She had an incredibly annoying habit of saying phrases liketrust meandbelieve metwice in a row as if it would make him do either.
But he didn’t bother to fight her, knowing she was used to getting her way. There was nothing he could say or do to get her to turn this car around and head back down the hill. He was stuck. So he would just have to tell her he hated the house and politely, sternly, ask her to find him an apartment downtown like he wanted in the first place.
At this point, he’d be better off finding a new real estate agent altogether.
Preferably a man.
Kiera turned up a cobblestone drive shaded by towering palm trees and lined with big, full rose bushes. The house came into view a moment later, and Mitch couldn’t help himself: he gasped.
Kiera looked smug. “Told you.”
The exterior was wide plank siding painted a bright white, the windows and doors trimmed in black. It consisted of two wings connected by an open-air breezeway. A detached garage sat off to the side, large enough to fit at least four vehicles.
Mitch knew instantly it was way too much, but while they were here, he might as well see the interior.
And it was just as spectacular inside as out: light and airy, with vaulted ceilings in the common areas and doorways large enough for him to enter rooms without ducking. The floors were a sandy oak that ran through both levels. Kiera informed him that it had four bedrooms, five and a half bathrooms, a giant kitchen and dining room, a great room, and a home theater.
It was way more space than he would ever need.
“Kiera,” he said as she turned to take him upstairs to the master suite and two of the guest rooms, babbling about square footage and comparable properties in the neighborhood, “I really appreciate you showing me this place. But it’s way too much space for me.”
“No it isn’t,” she insisted, frowning at him. “You’re a big guy. You’ve got lots of teammates, and they’ve got families and friends. So do I. We’ll be able to keep this place filled all the time with no problem.”
Her use ofwehad Mitch internally cringing, knowing that was the final nail in the coffin of this relationship. She was a sweet girl and wildly energetic in bed. He never wanted to hurt her feelings but couldn’t lead her on any longer. Not when she was clearly much more serious about this relationship than he was.
“That’s the thing, Kiera,” he said, hoping his constant use of her name would force her actually to hear what he was saying. “I don’t want to entertain.”
“You…what?” She asked, looking for all the world like he had just sprouted a second head from his neck.
“I don’t want to entertain,” he repeated.
“But why not? I was under the impression that entertaining was like…your thing.”
“Not anymore.”
Kiera stepped close and slid her arms around his waist, bending her head back to look up at him. Mitch met her gaze. “You never talk about it, you know.”
“About what?” He asked.
“Michigan. Your life before you came here. You act like you were born the second you set foot in LA, that there’s nothing to talk about from your past. But there is, and I wish you would share it with me.”
Mitch melted a little under her gaze, surprised she had been paying that close attention to him. He tucked his hand under her chin and bent to kiss her. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m just not ready.”
Kiera nodded and stepped out of his arms. “Come on, let me show you the home theater.”
He reached out his hand, and she took it, towing him along behind her as she passed through the massive rooms of the home. Even though he had every intention of ending their relationship tonight, looking at her now, seeing her face lit up as she discussed the specs of the house, he knew he couldn’t. Having a companion, someone to wake up next to in the morning and come home to after a road trip or a long day at the rink, wasn’t something he was ready to part with.
Kiera wasn’t his usual type, and she was no Alexandra Monroe, but she was exactly what he needed right now.
Afewrowsbehindher, a baby let out a piercing wail. The couple next to her winced, and Lexie clicked up the volume on her audiobook.
While the narrator ofThe Stranger in the Mirrorby Liv Constantine prattled on about the main character not recognizing herself or her life, Lexie rested her chin on her hand and turned her attention out the window.
She often felt like a stranger these days, too.
Lexie had always loved flying. As a child, it was the only opportunity she had to spend uninterrupted time with her parents, though even then, they ignored her in favor of in-flight cocktails and reviewing the materials for the next big deal they were heading off to close.
