“You assumed?” she repeats, and looks stunned.
“Steph, I know you. You’re smart and careful and you’re not going to have sex with me without some kind of protection,” I say, moving so I’m not on top of her anymore, because if she’s serious about going downstairs I need to get rid of this hard-on, and that’s not going to happen while it’s hovering between her legs, inches from heaven.
“I could be trying to trap you,” she says. She can’t even get the words out without a smile, that’s how ridiculous they are. “Isn’t that what hockey players are always worried about? Isn’t that what your dad thinks?”
I stand up and look around her room for my clothes, and then I remember the only thing I bothered to put back on before we came upstairs was my pants. “Yeah, well, you can’t trap what’s already been caught.”
I spot my pants at the foot of the bed and reach over and grab them, picking up her T-shirt from last night and handing it to her. She sits up, beautifully, perfectly naked, but she’s staring at me with her lip between her teeth again and that look I can’t read on her face. “You’re caught?”
“I’m yours,” I tell her simply, and lean forward, putting my hands on the bed in front of her so we’re face-to-face. “Whether you’re mine or not, I’m still not sure. I don’t know if last night was the big kiss-off or a reconciliation, but whatever the answer is, the fact is I’m yours. I’m not hiding it or talking myself out of it.”
We stare at each other. The sun must break through the clouds because suddenly she’s blanketed in a warm golden glow and I have to adjust the front of my pants. “Get dressed or I’m fucking you again and your brother will kill us both.”
She pulls her shirt over her head and climbs off the bed, heading to her dresser and pulling on some underwear and a pair of shorts. As she moves to the door and opens it to step into the hall, I panic a little. I don’t like that she hasn’t said anything. She hasn’t answered me—not that I asked a question, but I just professed my undying love to her and she has nothing to say. It’s…Well, like everything about being in love with her—it throws me.
I grab her arm and turn her to face me. “Can you say something? Let me know where I stand before we go down there.”
She smiles at me and reaches up and cups my face, the side that isn’t sore from her brother’s fist. “I told you last night. The only thing you’ve lost is a hockey game.”
I hold her perfect face in my hands. “So we’re back together?”
She takes my hand and tugs me downstairs. We reach Sebastian’s front hall just as Shayne is pulling open the front door. Jordan and Jessie are standing there. Jessie sees us first and grins, her green eyes twinkling.
“Hey!” She walks in and meets us at the bottom of the stairs, hugging Stephanie and then me. She glances at my jaw. “Ouch. But something tells me you had someone to kiss it better.”
“Stop hugging my shirtless enemies,” Jordan tells his wife, and puts on his best fake annoyed face, which is actually pretty ridiculous and makes him look like he’s constipated.
“Shut up, Jordan,” I reply, and he laughs.
“Nice face.” He motions at my bruised jaw, and every person in the room glances to Sebastian. He’s leaning against the breakfast bar holding a cup of coffee. He takes a sip, looks up at all of us, face devoid of regret, and shrugs.
Stephanie lets go of my hand and walks over to Sebastian. “You’re a jackass.”
He lifts an eyebrow, the one with the slice through it from some previous on-ice brawl. “He breaks your heart. I break his face. Those are the rules.”
“Yeah, well, you cost your team their best defenseman for the first round of the play-offs, I’m guessing,” Shayne says to her boyfriend. “You couldn’t wait to punch him off the ice?”
“I’ll find out Monday. Have a call with Player Safety,” he says, and for the first time his cocky attitude falters. He looks slightly remorseful, but I realize it’s for the repercussions, not the act itself.
“You’re getting two games,” I announce, and every head in the room swings around to face me.
Jordan shakes his head in disbelief. “No way. It was unprovoked. The puck had barely hit the ice. Even though he’s a first-time offender, it’s gotta be more than that.”
“I talked to them last night,” I explain, crossing through the living room to hunt down my shirt. “I told them I said something to you that was derogatory and inflammatory, so that it wouldn’t be considered unprovoked.”
“You did what?” Stephanie stares at me with her eyes wide.
I find my shirt on the floor next to the couch and pull it over my head. “I called them.”
“You can do that?” Shayne blinks and looks at Sebastian for confirmation. He looks as shocked as his sister.
“He can do it. I couldn’t. Seb couldn’t. No one else in the league could do it,” Jordan says with a crooked grin. “He’s Avery Westwood. This league is his bitch.”
I laugh at that. “I’ve missed your interesting take on life, Jordy.”
“You really did that?” Sebastian questions, his deep voice solemn.
I hold his gaze and nod. “While I was on my way over here.”
