“Okay.Fine.Thanks for that.”I step away, his arm falling from my waist, and then brush a hand over his shoulder because it’s accumulating snowflakes.The cotton of his T-shirt is damp.“Where’s your coat?”
“Long story.Come inside.”He swipes a fob against the wall panel.There’s a buzz, and he pulls the door to the lobby open.
“I need to get home,” I explain.“And my car is back that way.”
“Roads are absolute shit, and the news is begging people to stay off them,” Theo says.“Landon and Grady would never forgive me if I didn’t ask you to hang out here until it clears.”
“I’ll let them know you tried,” I reply and turn around.I have a pang of stress, though, the snow is coming down so hard now I can barely see the street a few feet away.
“Come on, Lola.”
Still, I hesitate.“It’s only going to get worse.The storm.”
“Yeah, I know.Like I said, they’re already telling people to stay indoors.”He gestures with a bare arm toward the street, and it’s hard to miss that there aren’t any cars driving anywhere I can see.And there’s also the fact that they haven’t plowed the streets yet either.
“So you decided to take a stroll in a T-shirt?”He still hasn’t given me an answer for that.
He looks down at the white cotton fabric spread across his chest and covered in wet flakes.“Like I said, long story.Now, please come inside.Landon would be furious if he knew I let you try to drive home in this.”
I hold my breath and wonder why the hell I’m even considering it.It has to be Pete who showed up and stressed me out.And I hate driving in storms and… I mean, maybe it would be nice to get to know Theo better.He’s Callan’s new favorite person.He talks about Theo a lot.Says he’s great.A perfect teammate.A bit uptight.A little quiet but smart, skilled, and generous on the ice with his play—whatever the hell that means.
Between Callan’s praise, Landon’s acceptance of the guy who accidentally outed him, and that pre-season game where he made sure I could witness Callan officially making the team, I’ve been intrigued.I’ve kind of made googling him a regular habit, too.He doesn’t have any social media accounts that I can find, but re-posts and screen grabs from his old Instagram still float around the net.He posted a lot of pictures in clubs and at parties, always with stunning women.He used to be anything but uptight and quiet, if video evidence is to be believed.And he was always smiling, deviously, even during fights.In the few times I’ve seen Theo since the season started, I haven’t seen him smile much at all.
“Fine.”I sigh and step toward him and the open door.“But you might be stuck with me for hours and hours.And I’m boring as hell.No fun at all.”
He grins, and I can’t help but admit it’s as stunning as it looked in all the old internet pictures.“I love boring.It’s my new favorite thing.”
“Then it’s your lucky night,” I retort.
Theo’s place is a loft, and of course, it’s a penthouse.It’s huge, with a sea view, and impeccably decorated.Because of the loft-style, his California king is right there, tucked into a brick wall with thick cloud-looking pillows and fluffy blankets.It looks warm and comfy, and I wonder if I’m going to have to spend the night here.
“It’s a fuck pad,” I whisper, more to myself than to him, but he hears me.
“It’s a furnished rental,” he says rather sheepishly.“Does it give fuck pad vibes?”
“It’s gorgeous,” I reply and smile.“And don’t get me wrong, a hot bachelor pad is exactly what a single professional athlete should have.”
“Well, this place has seen zero action since I started renting it.I may look the part, but I don’t walk the walk anymore,” he says offhandedly, almost like he’s trying to remind himself.“Let me take your coat.”
I shrug out of it, and he takes it.His eyes twinkle as he looks at it, with its wild, bright fake fur, but he doesn’t comment.He gives it a little shake to get rid of snowflakes and then hangs it in the closet by the door while I take off my boots.He pulls his feet out of his own boots and brushes the snow off his wet T-shirt.“Gonna finally tell me what you were doing in a blizzard without a coat?
He grins.“Saving a girl from an asshole.”
I can’t help but smile back, but I fold my arms over my chest.“Thank you, again, by the way.”
“You’re welcome.”He walks over to a sleek mid-century modern dresser tucked in by his bed, which doubles as a nightstand, and tugs open a drawer.He pulls out a neatly folded Riptide hoodie.“It was just weird luck, I guess.I was getting some much-needed air and remembered that bar you were in front of from my drinking days, so I walked down there to see if it was still open… not to drink alcohol, but just to reminisce, I guess.Maybe grab a soda.This place is nice, but I’ve been in it alone all day.We had a rest day, no practice, no game.So I went out and… well, there you were with that jackass.”
I open my mouth to ask if hitting up a bar as a guy less than a year into sobriety is a good idea, but he takes off his wet T-shirt.He’s got his back to me, but it’s a stunning view nonetheless.Broad shoulders, a strong, toned back with smooth, taut skin that narrows into a trim waist that meets a round, muscled ass under his sweats.The waistband of his navy blue underwear peeks out as he pulls the sweatshirt over his head.
My silence must have gotten his attention because he turns and gives me a questioning glance.I blink, pick my jaw up off the floor, and walk toward his living room.“Yeah.I work at that bar, and we were closing early because of the weather.Do you really think going to a bar for a soda is a great idea?”
“I need to test drive the being around alcohol thing eventually,” he says, and he sounds like he wishes he didn’t have to.“I’m already kind of sick of spending road trip nights alone in my hotel room when the guys go celebrate a win or commiserate a loss.”
I turn and watch the snow blanket the view.I can’t see a thing outside his windows.It’s a total whiteout now.“I should tell Callan and Landon where I am so they don’t worry.”
I walk back over to the front door to grab my bag, which I left there, and dig out my phone.I open our sibling group chat.
LOLA
