I gave myself a quick pep talk and burst out of the bathroom ready. “She’s all yours, Charming.”
He wore gray sweats and nothing else. The sweats hung low on his waist, exposing his utterly perfect abdomen. Muscles on muscles. His forearms were thick and veiny, and the bulge in the front of the pants was defined. Damn. “You’re hot, Charming.” I laughed, hoping to play off this random attraction to him. It had to be left over from the hot tub.
He sucked in a breath, his body tensing. “Jordan.”
“W-what?” Fuck. The way he said my name had my stomach in knots. Wicked sailing knots too, not normal ones. “What is it?”
“I didn’t think you were coming back up here.”
“You thought I was gonna sleep with Liam and stay with him?”
He nodded. “He’s an athlete. He fits your MO for dating an athletic guy. He’s also decent and not a shitbag.”
“Sure, but I came up here for you.”
He scoffed. “That hasn’t stopped you from hooking up before.”
“That’s not true.” I neared the bed, scanning the area and noting he didn’t make a bed for me on the floor. “I’ve never traveled to watch you play. I came up here to hang with you.”
“Yet you stayed down there when I came up.”
“You left so abruptly I thought you were upset with me. I thought…” I swallowed, hoping he’d pick up the end of the sentence. I waited.
“Finish the sentence.”
“I don’t wanna.”
“Seems like you need to though.” He sat forward, putting his arms on his knees as his thighs were spread wide. It was an oddly sexy pose and showcased his very thick and very strong legs.
“I thought you were mad at me because of the hot tub.”
“What part of the hot tub?”
“Preston.” My annoyance got the best of me. “It seems like maybe you have some things you’d like to say too.”
“I do.” He pushed off the bed and stood a few feet away from me. “You said you wanted to help me get out of my head—which, it would be heaven to not be in there. So you dare me to do crazy shit in the hot tub, and fuck, Jordan, it worked. I wasn’t thinking about a damn thing exceptyou.But then, the second another guy enters, you flirt with him. Charm him. Do your Jordan thing with him. It made me feel shitty and used watching you flirt with him seconds after I touched you.”
“Preston.” I gasped at the hurt and anger andtruthto his words. “I?—”
“So I left. I didn’t expect you back, and I thought you had your phone on you. I’m sorry you were locked out, truly. I feel fucking terrible about that.” He gripped his hair and sighed, his shoulders drooping.
“I’m sorry.” I hung my head, hating myself in the moment. “I’m a shitty friend, and you’ve done so much for me. What can I do to make you feel better?”
“No fucking idea. Maybe we just sleep.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m tired. You drove a long way today.”
“Right.” My mind was out of control, replaying the conversation and pointing out the insinuations that were incorrect. I had to tell him the truth about some of it even if it was weird and scary. “Hey, about the hot tub?—”
He held up a hand. “Let’s not today, okay?”
Swallowing, I nodded. If that was what he wanted, that was what I’d give him. I’d upset him by flirting and doing my stupid attention-seeking shit when I should’ve chosen him and made sure he was okay with us crossing a line. “I’ll grab a blanket and sleep on the floor.”
“No. Get in the bed, Jordan. I’m turning off the lights.”
6
PRESTON
What a fun problem to have the night before the championship game. Was my head fucked up because of my parents’ divorce, because of how I’d played tonight—which could cause no NHL team to ever want me—or because of Jordan Vanderfleet’s tits? Was there an all-the-above option?
