Page 142 of The Goalie in Room 1

“Seriously?”

I nodded with a smirk, watching the wheels spin behind his warm brown gaze.

“How far are you riding now?” he asked.

Fuck.

“Sixty-three last weekend.”

“Cash!”

“The knee was fine.”

“Sixty-three fucking miles?”

“Yep. Just so you know, Nelly and Matteo both signed off on it. They think I’m crazy.”

“You are,” he said, staring dumbfounded at me.

I couldn’t help laughing. “Don’t fucking doctor me. I like it. I’m good at it.”

That shut him up.

His hand slid up my thigh, warm and familiar, and under the cotton shorts I wore. Neither of us looked at my knee. It had stopped defining our relationship the day I fired him.

I chewed over my conversation with Aiden at the rink. Between last November and now, I built a life in this house with the man in front of me. I had a new career, a new athletic outlet for my competitive nature. Somewhere along the way, hockey stopped defining me.

Money was still there.

But now, so was Cash.

I covered Thad’s hand with mine.

“So, you’re happy?” he asked.

I nodded. “New hobby. New career.”

He laughed. “Yeah, right. A new hobby. You’re planning a century ride. Yes, I know about your little secret. You’re not as sneaky as you think. A century isn’t just a hobby.”

His thumb moved over my thigh, inches from my rising flesh.

“Besides…” I let my gaze travel over the smattering of gray at his temples before meeting his eyes. “There’s this sexy silver fox Daddy I really fucking love sleeping next to.”

One eyebrow lifted. “Sleeping?”

Heat curled low in my gut.

There he was.

I shifted closer and hooked my fingers into his shirt. “It’s my birthday. I deserve a present.”

“I flew your brother and Sasha to California.”

“Great present.”

“I’m glad you approve.”

“I want another one.”