As we walked into Room 222 and Nick set down his bags there was no questioning it. Getting through the next few days and not sliding my hands underneath his shirt, not slipping under the covers onto the lumpy sofa bed mattress to wrap my arms around his massive body, not taking one step closer to bridge the tension between us and falling into his embrace, was going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
NINE
NICK
Evie’s roomwas smaller than mine, by a lot. When the pull-out sofa was open, the frame nearly hit the edge of her double bed. The bathroom didn’t have a tub, just a tiny shower. Living with a roommate was tough, but living with one that made my cock as hard as a rock was going to make for a very uncomfortable night’s sleep.
I’d never lived with a woman before, and as I cleared away a spot on the side of the pedestal sink for my shaving kit, I realized just how intimate this living arrangement was going to be. I admired Evie for helping out her grandmother, but for both of our sakes, I needed to find a place to stay—and fast.
A shrill ring cut the awkward silence between us.
Evie picked up the phone. I splashed some water on my face while I tried to pretend I couldn’t hear her side of the conversation.
“No, I won’t be using it. I’ll check with Nick though,” she said to the person on the other end of the line. “Nick?” she shouted.
I cracked open the door. Her hand was covering the ivory mouthpiece. “Are you going to use the hot tub tonight?”
My dick pulsed at the thought of sitting in the swirling water with Evie. “Nope.” I said it a little quicker and louder than necessary. Adjusting my semi, I grabbed my shaving kit and a change of clothes and tossed it into a backpack.
She returned her attention to the call. “Neither of us is going to use it. Eddie can close it up for the evening.” She paused. “Sweet dreams to you, too, GJ,” she whispered.
I think that she was embarrassed, but I thought it was sweet. No one had ever wished me sweet dreams.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“I’m going to go to the rink to work on a few things for the game. I’ve heard that the Windswan team is the best in the league. I want to make sure that I’m on top of my game. I’ll be back around nine.”
That seemed like a good Goldilocks time to come back. Not too early, not too late—just right.
Evie smiled and also seemed a little bit relieved. “Okay, roomie. See you at nine.” She gave me a light right hook to the bicep. I wasn’t imagining the awkwardness, she felt it too.
At the rink,the fresh sheet of ice shone in the fluorescent lights. I’d called Mack to come and practice shots with me, and by the time my blades hit the ice, he had already skated three lazy laps. I skated a lap in my goalie kit, then tried not to think about Evie as I did some light stretches. A groin pull could be a career-ending injury, and ever since TikTok became a thing, videos of goalies stretching had been making the rounds on social media. It had never fazed me before. I’d been doing the same warm-up since I was a teenager, but as I dropped to my knees and rested the knuckles of my gloves on the ice, I could almost hear the striptease music playing in the background. Worse, I couldn’t stop thinking about Evie,and suddenly with her face in my mind, the stretches seemed sexual.
I cleared my throat and skated to the net, banging my stick on either post—also part of my pregame warm-up, and hoped that the pressure against my jockstrap would cease—and soon.
Mack and I banged pucks for an hour and a half. I could’ve kept going, but Mack was fading. In the last half hour, I stopped every single one of his slap shots—easily. If he was one of the best players in the league, I could probably go three for three in shutouts.
“Man, you are good.” Mack leaned his elbow on the crossbar. “What the hell are you doing here?”
After squirting water through the cage of my helmet, I pulled it off and emptied the bottle on my head. “Coach Coalman was one of my coaches back East. I found myself without a team and he found himself needing a goalie.”
That was kind of the truth. I’d been suspended from the Laketown Otters for the rest of the season for mouthing off to one of the refs—but no one out here needed to know that. The two leagues were on opposite sides of the country, and unless one of the Laketown Otters had a ski villa in Chance Rapids, no one in town would know my back story. Except Coalman.
The part that I didn’t tell Mack was that along with a significant chunk of money, Coach had promised me that he would talk to his scout connections for me. I didn’t care as much about the payoff money—a few words whispered into the right scout’s ear could change my career.
“You could play in the NHL.” The door to the player’s box squeaked as he opened it.
That’stheplan, I thought to myself.
“I had a few scouts interested when I was in the NPHL. I’ve heard that they come and visit this league too.”
“They do.” He grinned. “There are rumors that there is going to be one at game three.”
“The outdoor game?”
“I know.” Mack nodded grimly. “It’s not really an accurate representation of our skills, but that game is so huge I think that they want to see how we do under the pressure.”
We trundled through the hallway to the dressing room. “How huge?”
