There’s no stopping my smirk. “You showing off for me?”
She scoffs, keeping her focus fixed out the windshield. “Please, I don’t do anythingfor you. Or anyone for that matter. I do what makes me happy, and what makes me happy is the sound of my pretty baby starting up.”
Theo: We’re playing in Boston in October. You guys around?
I groan at my cousin’s text messages. Dammit, he’s waking the chat. In minutes, I’ll have a dozen unread messages. He and Finn could go back and forth for hours. How is a mystery. Both are professional athletes like me with ridiculously busy schedules.
Finn is the Boston Revs’ catcher, and Theo is the quarterback for Tennessee’s NFL team. He’s also Hope’s overbearing younger brother who doesn’t know what to do with himself now that she’s moved back to Boston and he’s the only one left in Nashville. I swear the kid is dying to move home.
Though I can’t imagine he’d want to move into the brownstone with the rest of us. I still don’t know how I got myself into this situation.
Finn: Already in the calendar.
Finn: and Hopie’s good. Gracie and I are going shopping this afternoon. She wants to pick out decorations for Hope’s room and surprise her. Says Mommy doesn’t smile enough.
Theo: I’m going to fucking murder her husband.
I’d like to get in on that, actually. What kind of spineless dick leaves his wife and three kids? Especially when his youngest isn’t even a year old. Fucking kills me.
Me: Let me know when and where.
Bray: No one is murdering anyone. Also, where the fuck are you? The rest of the team is already here.
Brayden Hawke, my team captain, rarely participates in the chat. He’s tried removing himself at least ten times, but Finn always adds him back. He’s a more recent addition to our crew. The guys got him to come out with us one night, and Finn adopted him, probably against his will. He’s a few years older than the rest of us, and for as long asI’ve been with the Bolts, he’s worked hard to maintain a professional relationship with his teammates. It’s like he’s scared to be friends with the guys he plays with. Though the last few years since he became captain he’s loosened up a bit and now I’d consider him my best friend on the team.
I respond to Bray, then I sneak a few glances at my newest coach.
Adeline Langfield grew up fucking gorgeous. She’s a knockout. I swear if she didn’t play hockey, she’d be on a runway. Or maybe not, because I can’t imagine her ever being interested in fashion. But she has the face and stature of a model.
Her long chestnut waves always smell like coconut, and she typically wears her hair pulled back from her pretty face. Her high cheekbones are brushed with the lightest of pink and her lush lips are always covered in a red gloss. She’s never steered away from her femininity despite the shit she’s gotten for it in this industry. Then there are the dimples so deep she can’t hide them even when she’s not smiling. I know because she rarely smiles at me. Not anymore. And then there are the prettiest brown eyes I’ve ever seen. She rarely looks my way, so I haven’t had the opportunity to really study them in a long-ass time, but I remember many a night when those very eyes were the last thing I saw before I fell asleep.
She was my secret keeper and the only good thing in my life the year I lived with the Langfields. I wish I could work out why she hates me so much now.
And I wish it didn’t bother me so much that she does.
“Stop staring at me,” she grouses.
I smirk. I may hate that we aren’t friends, but I do love engaging with her. Even if the only way I get to do it is by pissing her off.
“Now why would I do that?” I say with a forced smirk.
Finally, she looks at me, her expression making it clear that she thinks I’m the biggest idiot she’s ever met. “You realize that I could make your season a living hell, right?”
Shifting in my seat, I turn her way. It’s only polite to give her my full attention. So what if that also means I have an excuse to check out what she’s wearing today? She looks gorgeous in the simple light blue Bolts zip up over what I’m guessing is a sports bra. I definitelyshouldn’t be picturing her in just that, but thanks to Josie’s love for posting photos online, I know exactly what Adeline looks like in far less.
It’s not like I’ve gone looking for the photos. We just move in the same circles. And I’ve seen photos of every woman in that circle in a bikini. And now we’re living together. Sharing a fucking bathroom.
Shit, will she walk around in a tiny towel like she used to? She’d have full conversations like that, completely oblivious to the way my dick would immediately harden.
Probably not.
She’s older. She knows better. Right?
She has to know the effect she’d have on a man were she to walk around like she used to. The effect she’d have onme.
She glares my way again.
Fuck. Of course she doesn’t. The woman barely thinks of me. She’s definitely not paying attention to the way I look at her.
