“How many teams score when theother teamhas a power play? Not many.”
“It felt really good.”
“It was great, Cash.”
Cash rubs a nervous hand on his neck. “Listen, I knowyou’re working tomorrow, but want to come to the hospital with me? To hand out stuffed animals.”
“Sure.”
I know he’s only asking me because we have to look like a couple. But I like that he asked me without saying the reason why.
“Great. I’ll text you my address. Maybe you can meet me there and we can go together?”
“That sounds great.”
“Great. Sounds like a plan.”
Great.
Chapter Seven
CASH
“Are you going to be a good boy for me?” I’m sitting on the floor, playing with Puck. Piper is supposed to be here in a few minutes.
It seems weird that she’s coming with me to the hospital, but who am I to argue with Cassie?
The doorbell rings and Puck goes running toward his bed.
“It’s okay, bud. I promise.”
Puck doesn’t like people. I adopted him from a local Lab rescue when he was a few months old. It took him a while to warm up to me, but now? I’m one of the only people he likes.
Swinging open the front door, I’m met by the sight of Piper, standing there looking way too gorgeous for her own good. Tight jeans. Black, silky top and a simple jacket. Her blonde hair hangs loosely around her shoulders. Her makeup isn’t overly done.
It makes her even sexier.
Which I have no right to be thinking.
“Princess.”
“Cash.” She brushes by me as I wave her in. “Nice place you have here.”
“Thanks. It’s not much.”
“Better than my brother’s place. If it weren’t for my mom, he’d have a card table for a kitchen table.”
My house isn’t big. It was hard to fight the idea that my entire hockey career could be taken from me in one hit.
It didn’t mean that I didn’t want a warm place to come home to. The first thing I did was hire a designer to make it a place where I wanted to spend time.
Dark, hardwood floors cover the entire first floor. Brown leather sofas fill the living room, facing a brick fireplace where a TV hangs. All the walls are a dark blue. I thought it would be too much, but I like it.
Various trophies I’ve gotten through the years sit on the shelves that line the walls from the living room to the kitchen. The puck from my first score in an NHL game. Small things that I wanted to keep instead of pictures of family.
“Who’s this?” Piper asks, walking into the living room.
Puck’s tail, where it’s normally tucked between his legs when he meets new people, is wagging.
