Page 78 of Securing the Pucking Rebound

“Darlin’?”

She blinks at me, and I swear to God she’s putting all the pieces together.

Her lips part, and I’m convinced the game is up, that she’s about to rip me a new one for lying to her for months, but that’s not what happens. Instead, her mouth curls into a coy smile before she whispers, “Good night, Calvin.”

I stand there immobile as she bends down to collect her abandoned purse and jacket, and only seconds later, she’s got her key in her hand, and she’s pushing her front door open.

I snap out of my Sienna-induced trance just before she disappears into her apartment.

“Sweet dreams, darlin’,” I rasp, making her pause and look back at me.

The wicked glint in her eyes tells me exactly what she’s going to be dreaming about, and fuck if I don’t almost come in my pants right there and then.

I bite my tongue to stop myself from asking for an invite inside. I meant what I said earlier: Sienna isn’t like the women I usually spend time with. I don’t want her for tonight; I want her forever. And somehow, I need to prove that to her, because no matter how many times I say the words, I don’t think she believes me.

I stand there long after her door has fallen closed and she’s flicked the lock. I can’t bring myself to walk away. But eventually, I give myself a talking to and head back toward the elevator.

My apartment feels colder and emptier than ever, which is stupid, since no one has been here besides the guys. But suddenly, my need to see her in my space is unignorable.

I walk through my apartment, ignoring my gym and going straight to my bedroom. Tonight, I don’t need to exhaust myself to force all my fears about my future from my head. I’m not even thinking about hockey or what the next steps in my career might look like. All I can see is her.

I strip down to my boxers, grab my cell, and crawl into bed with a smile.

The group chat with the guys is blowing up after their win tonight. It seems they’ve gone out to celebrate, and they’re already pretty drunk from the nonsense I’m reading. Especially from Linc.

“Fucking idiots,” I mutter before closing their chat and opening another one.

Marilyn: How’d the date go?

Calvin: Epic success.

As if he were waiting for me to reply instead of enjoying his night, the message is read instantly.

Marilyn: Oh yeah?

Calvin: You sound like you’re doubting me.

Marilyn: It’s just that dating is very different from what you usually do.

Calvin: I know how to treat a woman properly.

Marilyn: Good to know. So, is there going to be a second date?

Calvin: Abso-fucking-lutely.

Marilyn: Good night all round then.

Calvin: Too right. Congrats on the two assists tonight.

I’m proud of Hayden. He’s playing like the pro he is, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t sting. I hate that I feel so bitter about it. He deserves it. He’s a kickass D-man. I just…fuck. I’m just a selfish cunt who can’t deal with the reality that life has dealt me.

Marilyn: Thanks, man. Appreciate it. Any ideas for date number two?

Calvin: Yeah, I’ve got a few things in mind.

Marilyn: You know where I am if you need anything.

Calvin: Thanks, man. I’ll let you get back to celebrating.