Mom’s been talking for the past few minutes, and I haven’t heard a word that she’s said.
All I can think about is last night and this morning.
Drew’s beautiful, naked body laid out beneath me, her soft moans, parted lips. The way she gazed up at me in the shower when I reminded her that she was the only woman I’d ever chased. I wasn’t sure she believed me. This morning, I knew the truth finally resonated with her.
There is no doubt in my mind that while we might be opposites in many ways, we fit together—in and out of the bedroom—so fucking perfectly.
Unlike Drew, I’m not scared of getting caught hooking up, although I totally get why she’s hesitant to risk us being found out. I’m not idiotic enough to not know that, in the eyes of the public, her career is more dispensable than my own, but what Drew hasn’t quite grasped is that I will literally do anything to protect her and everything she has worked for.
She deserves to be the highest flyer in her field, and I know she will be one day.
When I turned pro, I felt bitter toward the team I’d been drafted to, but mainly, I felt lost because the Rogues wasn’twhere I’d always imagined I’d end up. If I’m ever going to lift the Cup, it will be a long-ass time before this team is ready to do it. My teammates are good players, but much is missing from our setup.
Coach Callaghan is likely thinking the same thing as he sits next to Drew and spoons shrimp risotto into his mouth.
There’s a chance he’s also wondering why I can’t stop staring at his daughter like she just hung the goddamn moon.
If only he knew that she had rocked my whole world last night and I plan to do the same to her when I get her back to the hotel. As soon as fucking possible.
I’ve thought about how he would react if he found out about me and Drew, and honestly, I don’t really give a fuck. What Drew’s dad thinks about me doesn’t enter my mind each time I crash my lips against hers.
Bench me.
Trade me.
He won’t do either because he needs me on the team.
Hell, tell me I’m not good enough for his princess. Even if I am.
I guess if you use my reputation as the barometer, then he’d probably be right—just ask Hallie and all the other women who wanted more and I ended up breaking their hearts.
But with Drew … I’m the one tagging along like a lovesick puppy, waiting on the next flash of her eyes and curve of her lips. The girl I stroke my dick to whenever she isn’t around.
So, no, I’m not worried about Coach finding out or how our families will react. Because for the first time since I was drafted to the NHL, I know exactly what I want.
To make Drew Callaghan happy. I’m a Jones, and when we set our minds on something, we don’t stop until we have it—or them—in our grasp.
“Will?”
Mom’s frustrated tone snaps me back into the room, and I blink a couple of times.
“Yeah?”
She drops her shoulders before repeating what I missed, thankfully.
“I was asking how often you will be expected to wear Repeet merchandise as part of the potential deal.”
Drew adjusts the collar on her green turtleneck sweater, one I know she wore to hide the legacy of my lips. Pretty blue eyes settle on me as she says, “We still need to work out a few details in the contract. Potential collaborations are stacking up in my inbox, and the last thing Will’s agent and I want is to overcommit to one brand at the expense of something more lucrative in the future.”
Help me, for I am hard and sitting at my parents’ dinner table.
Taking a chance that I find Drew and not Coach, I rub my sole over the top of her foot.
Drew doesn’t flinch, but does roll her lips together when we make contact.
Bingo.
She fights back a chuckle when I move my foot again.
