Page 103 of Risking the Pucking Defense

I haven’t even spoken to her today. I have no idea what she thought when she woke up in bed alone this morning. Was she grateful I cleaned up before I left, or hasn’t she given me a single thought?

The possibility of it being the latter hurts more than it should. But I can’t help it. She’s inadvertently put herself in the middle of my life, and I like it too much for her to stop now.

“You killed it again today,” Rett says as the elevator carries us toward where Bea waits for us.

“Thanks. I’m enjoying getting back into it. I’ve needed the focus.”

“I know what you’re going through fucking sucks, but it’s making you one hell of a player right now.”

I hang my head, hardly able to believe that I’m standing here beside my hero, listening to him sing my praises. It’s fucking unbelievable. I must have done something right in a previous life to deserve this.

“It’s gonna fucking suck when someone steals you from under our feet to put you on the first line.”

“Nah, that’s not gonna happen.” While I might believe that I’m a half-decent player, there’s no way someone would put me in his position. I don’t have the aggression or the power that Rett does.

“It absolutely will. You mark my words.”

The elevator doors open, and we march out side by side until Rett lets us into his apartment. The scent of something spicy hits my nose, and my stomach growls loudly.

I’d been over a few times before Bea moved in, and I always loved it. It was such a bachelor pad, exactly what I expected of Rett, but since Bea, things have been changing. There’s color and warmth and softness everywhere you look. I can’t help but think of Hailee’s place as I walk in and head straight into Bea’s embrace.

“Hey,” Rett grunts before dragging me away from his girl. “Mine.”

I roll my eyes as he brushes his lips against hers, backing her up against the wall.

It’s nothing I haven’t seen numerous times before. At first, it was pretty shocking to see the notorious ladies’ man so addicted to one woman. But now, it’s normal for him not to be able to put her down. And I swear it only gets worse with every inch her stomach grows.

He pulls back from their kiss and just gazes at her, his hand on her jaw and his body curling around hers protectively.

Jealousy surges through me as her fingers twist in the short, still-damp hair at the nape of his neck.

Fuck, yeah. I’m jealous.

I drown in thoughts I shouldn’t be having. Ones where I come home from the arena, walk into Hailee’s apartment, and have her standing there waiting for me.

It’s unrealistic in so many ways, but I lose myself in the fantasy anyway.

“I made lasagna for dinner,” Bea finally says as she ducks under Rett’s arm and meets me in the kitchen. “And garlic bread and a side salad. Is that okay?” she asks.

“Sounds incredible,” I say, trying not to get emotional over garlic freaking bread. So what, I shared some with Hailee last night? That doesn’t mean we own it.

“Soda?” Bea asks, pulling the fridge open.

“Water’s great, thanks,” I say, unable to stop myself from pulling my cell out to see if she might have messaged while we were riding up here. I already know she hasn’t, but I still look.

“So,” Bea starts after passing me a bottle of water.

Rett steps up to the kitchen island and opens his can of soda, his attention aimed at me.

“So,” he repeats.

I look between the two of them with my heart pounding in my ears.

“There’s nothing to say,” I mutter. I know I’m never going to get away with that.

“Mmm, let me see,” Rett starts, rapping his knuckles on the counter. “I catch our rookie in the closet with our one and only ball-busting PR Director, and he’s trying to convince us there’s nothing really to say.”

Bea giggles while my temperature spikes. “Next, you’re going to say she was just helping fix your equipment,” she teases.