Page 37 of Securing the Pucking Rebound

Oh my god. Shut the hell up.

I don’t know what it is—the medication, maybe—but my filter seems to have got up and walked off.

Maybe it’s his presence. The fact that he’s gone out of his way twice today to ensure I’m taken care of. If Bea weren’t pregnant and run off her feet, I know that she’d have been here today making sure I was okay. I’ve got to admit, Calvin is a pretty good second choice. I certainly can’t complain about the eye candy. Even if his jaw is a little more scruffy and his hair longer than I’m used to seeing. He’s still smoking, and he's sitting on my couch. While my nose runs like a tap, I sound like a gremlin, and my hair is…the less I think about that, the better.

This is literally the thing of most women’s dreams. I have a hot, professional hockey player in touching distance, and I feel worse than I have in a very, very long time.

I know I’m not interested in being his plaything, or the distraction I mentioned not so long ago, but even still. This has to be some sick joke, right? Karma at work or some shit. Although I have no idea what I might have done recently that deserves this kind of punishment, but apparently, I’m on the receiving end of it.

Is it because I may or may not have gotten myself off to thoughts of him recently?

Fuck.

And now my face is redder and hotter than it’s been all day.

“Shit. Are you burning up?” he asks, letting me know that he’s got one eye on me while he’s eating.

“I’m okay,” I squeak, forcing another spoonful of soup into my mouth.

Even with my dodgy taste buds right now, this really is delicious.

“Are you due meds?”

I shake my head. Although…when did I last take some?

I force my eyes to stay on the TV as the movie continues to play, but I don’t see any of it. Not that it’s necessary; I could almost recite it word for word.

“Were you a cheerleader?” Calvin asks after a few seconds.

“Yeah, I was actually.”

He chuckles. “I can see it. I bet you rocked that outfit.”

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

“What?”

“Haven’t you learned by now that hitting on me won’t get you anywhere?”

“I’m not…I wasn’t…It was just an observation. So, did you hook up with the captain of the football team?”

His words drag up memories I’d rather not think about. “Do I look that stereotypical?” I say in the hope of not having to go down that rabbit hole.

“Is there a look for that?”

I shrug. “What about you? Star hockey player of your high school?”

“Nah, no one really cared about me because I didn’t play football. It was like any other sport didn’t exist. I was happy to blend into the background and do my own thing.”

“Huh…”

“What?” he teases.

“Nothing. I just don’t see you as the kind of guy who is happy hiding in the shadows. You seem to like the limelight and all the benefits that come with it.”

He smirks, wiggling his brows. “I can’t complain about the benefits.”

“You’re a nightmare,” I mutter before turning my attention back to the TV as he chuckles beside me.