I don’t dare move my hands. They’re locked in a vice grip around his waist, but I can feel his stomach muscles. I remember what they feel like under my touch. So hard and defined. So damn sexy.
Under any other circumstances, this ride feels like hours sometimes. Far too soon, we’re stopped at the light and I begin pointing him in the direction of my house. He drives slowly down my street and before I’m ready to end this ride, he pulls up alongside my house.
Hansley parks and I climb off the bike, simultaneously trying not to pout that it’s over or grin like a loon because that was fun as fuck. He helps me undo the helmet and then secures it to the back of the bike.
Jealousy instantly rolls through me as I imagine everyone he’s probably taken on his bike. Like his wife. Maybe Alka or Declan.
It dampens some of my happiness.
He hands me my bag and I take it. “Thanks,” I say, touching my hair self-consciously.
Hansley nods. I still can’t see more than his eyes. “Need a ride to work tomorrow?”
“Why are you being so nice to me?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.
“I’m a nice person,” he deadpans. “Which you’d know if you hadn’t hated me for something that was completely not my faultat all nor in my control. You want to hate me, Lemon. That’s fine. But know that I will not beg for your friendship. But I’m still a nice person and wouldn’t leave you stranded at school.”
I press my lips together.
“So, ride tomorrow or no?”
“Yes, please,” I grit out, because honestly—hell, yes!
“Eight?”
“I usually leave here at seven-twenty but?—”
“That’s fine. I’ll see you then.”
He starts the bike again and I take a few steps back. Hansley raises his hand in departure and then I’m watching him drive down my road, leaving me staring at the house across the street with the FOR SALE sign in the yard. The yard needs mowing. It’s no wonder that thing hasn’t sold. The landscaping needs desperate help, and there’s zero curb appeal.
I let myself inside and call Sugar back. She’ll be worried about me if I don’t. However, I’m a very poor excuse for company tonight. Even though she’s spilling all sorts of updated gossip concerning our siblings.
My mind is stuck on Hansley. On that bike. Riding with him.
A shudder races through me, and I abruptly get off the phone. I cannot be talking to Sugar with a hard dick and thinking about Hansley and the roar of the bike between my legs. Yep, can’t keep that bitch down right now.
This is how I’m spending the night, I guess. I glare down at my straining dick in my leggings, silently chastising it. Great.
CHAPTER 14
HANSLEY
Idrive around Lemon’s house a few times to make sure I remember the neighborhood and which house is his. Honestly, he’s got the most exaggeratedly manicured and brightly flowered lawn on the whole street. I’d have guessed correctly where he lived if given the chance.
Once I’m relatively certain I can get back here, I head home. A pit forms in my stomach as soon as I turn my bike in that direction. It grows the closer I get.
I love my wife. For years, I thought I had the perfect life. In some ways, it feels like retiring from hockey wasn’t the end of a chapter. It was the end of a lifetime.
I’ve moved away from all my friends, the only life I’ve known and worked toward for nearly my entire existence. This wasn’t just a new experience for me. It’s almost like a completely new me.
My appearance isn’t something I’ve ever put much thought into. The only thing that mattered was comfort in my gear. So short hair and clean shaven. Easy. I haven’t changed that look at all, but somehow, I barely recognize myself when I look in the mirror.
I’d like to say it’s because in this new life with this new version of myself, I’m a cheater. I think that’s tingedhowI think of myself, but does it really have an external view? There are other things I like about myself.
My ability to connect with my players and teach them. I’ve actually taught them already this year, and it’s only the beginning of October. Their improvement in this short time has been unreal.
They like me. They talk to me about things other than hockey. I’m surprised by how much it means to me that they’re comfortable in my presence.
