“Because if you expect me to live in this place, it needs some refreshing,” Angie states flatly. “And a new water tank. Talk later.”
Angie disappears from the screen. I drop my phone on my lap and try not to swear. I have my eyes closed and my head tipped back, but I know Grady is watching me. I feel him shift beside me on the sofa, which was not meant for two large hockey players. His thigh rubs against mine, and I fight that shiver of lust once again.
“She doesn’t like the cottage?” He sounds shocked. “It’s kind of fucking perfect.”
“I agree, but she doesn’t, clearly.”
I stand up as I pinch the bridge of my nose and fight the stress headache that’s coming. “I want her to be happy. I do. The thing is, she also wants to hold onto the place in L.A. I don’t know why. It’s not like I’ll be traded back any time soon. And I still have a place in San Fran.”
“Landon Real Estate Tycoon Casco.”
“More like Landon Cash Poor Casco,” I grumble, the headache blooming between my eyes. “And I have medical bills. I mean, the insurance the league offers is comprehensive, but still. There are bills.”
He inhales sharply. I finally open my eyes and look at him. He seems worried. “Well, I mean, how much can a consultation cost? When we get home, I’ll talk the place up and even have my sister swing by and compliment the space. Sometimes women just need to hear praise from other women. Dudes are the same. I mean, if my mom tells me good, save it hits different than when my dad does.”
“Because our moms would cheer for us if we skated with our helmets on backwards,” I mutter.
That gets me a big old bark of a laugh from my favorite redhead. Now I’m grinning too. I grab the plates and cutlery from our lunch. “I should head back to my room.”
“Or you could go donate some blood? A kidney? I think they pay for that.” He’s joking, but it hits weird because no, I can’t donate blood. Cancer patients can’t. But I don’t say that because Grady, as always, is trying to be the good guy.
I give him a smile. “See you tonight.”
“Yeah, I’ll text you when we’re heading to the lobby.”
I nod and head out. If it wasn’t for Angela, I would feel a lot lighter about everything. Now I’m stressing about expenses, and also a little peeved because I love the cottage the way it is. And it might create family drama if we change it too much. It’s not mine alone. It’s shared family property. To be honest, I don’t even know who technically owns it since Gram died.
I’m stressed for whole new reasons when I get back to my room and decide to take a nap. I peel out of all my clothes and do the one thing that I know relieves stress—I jerk off. And yeah, as I come, back arched and shooting my release all over my stomach, I’m reliving that night and the way Grady came all over my hand.
Chapter 15
Grady
“She’s never stood me up before.”
“It’s no big deal. We aren’t stranded.”
“It feels like a big deal.”
“It will be okay,” I say softly, and then, for some stupid reason, I put my hand on top of his on the seat between us in the back of the Uber.
He doesn’t flinch or even blink. I quickly squeeze his hand supportively, but move mine back to my lap. I’m glad things are good between us again, but I should still rein myself in. Especially because my crush on Landon has grown insatiable. I’m like a teenager. I think about him all the time. My heart swells when I see him and flutters when we touch. If I had a notebook, I would probably doodle his name on it. It’s bad.
And he’s got a lot going on right now, so I don’t need to add my unrealistic, ridiculous feelings. Landon and Angie have been fighting the entire time we’ve been away. After that first phone call about the interior designer, it only got worse. We hung out a lot this trip. We went to dinner with a bunch of our teammates, and I sneakily paid the entire bill so the guys couldn’t dump it on us and expect Landon to pay it with me. I wanted to save him from that extra financial ding.
After that, he was much more chill on the ice during practice. We continued our unspoken rituals on and off the ice with stick taps and nods during games and sitting together on the buses to and from the arenas, watching Netflix together, and eating meals together. But every time Angie called, and I was around, they fought.
I always tried to give them privacy, after a quick hello to Angie, but Landon and I talked about it afterward. Angie was miserable in Maine. But Landon, despite his issues at home, seemed to be finding his footing with the team. He spent all of two shifts on the third line in Boston and the rest of the game on the second line. In the first official game of the season in Toronto, which sadly we lost, he was on the second line.
I didn’t suck the entire time, but I wasn’t on my game either. Coach started Michaels in Boston, but put me in halfway through the second, claiming it was standard practice to play both goalies in a pre-season game. Maybe it was, but Michaels let in one goal—another softie over his shoulder—and I let in two. But the team scored four, so we won.
That first official game of the season, in Toronto, sucked all the balls. First of all, he started Michaels, which felt like a decision. Like he’d chosen him as the official starter even if he didn’t actually say that. But Michaels played like he was made of Swiss cheese. The first goal happened at one minute and forty-two seconds into the game, and they just kept coming. I was put in at the start of the second period, but I couldn’t stop the bleeding. The score was an ego-crushing 7-4. After the game, the coach told me it wasn’t my fault. The team melted down as a whole. But… if I’ve spent one second on the ice, I always carry the loss on my shoulders. It was a shitty way to start the season.
Could be worse, though. I could have been ghosted by my lift home from the airport. Well, I guess technically I was because Angela was supposed to be picking up both of us.
The Uber pulls to a stop in front of the cottage, which, other than a light on the porch, is in complete darkness. Maybe she’s next door at Holden and Winnie’s? I glance through the back window of the car and see they have lights on. We both thank the driver, climb out, and grab our suitcases from the trunk. Landon stares up at the house, his mouth pulled down in a deep frown. “There is no way she’s already in bed.”
“Hey!” The low voice comes from the porch next door, and we look over and find Holden standing up. He’s in a hoodie and jeans. He must have been sitting on the porch swing. “Welcome back.”
