Desire or Defense: An Enemies-to-Lovers Hockey Romance (D.C. Eagles Hockey Book 1) by Leah Brunner

Author:Leah Brunner [Brunner, Leah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Leah Brunner Publishing
Published: 2023-05-01T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 18

ANDIE

Stepping out of my car, I see Mitch and Noah sitting outside the iceplex chatting. It’s a brisk January evening and they’re both bundled up in their coats. Mitch is all big shoulders and chiseled jawline where Noah is slight, his face still rounded in that youthful way. Not quite a man, not quite a child.

Seeing the difference they make in each other amazes me. Like they both just needed someone who understood them. Noah needed someone after we lost our parents, and I can’t help but wonder what happened in Mitch’s past that made him need someone too. And made him feel kinship with Noah.

Their heads pop up when I put the car in park and they start walking my way. Noah has his giant hockey bag, as always, the one with that dorky wombat on the side.

I pop my trunk via the lever inside my driver’s side door, then walk around to the back to make sure the groceries are out of the way.

“Hey, guys. How’d it go?” I ask before bending down to grab Noah’s bag and hoist it inside the trunk.

Mitch’s eyebrows knit together when he spots my hand on Noah’s bag.

Noah, who’s oblivious to his look, responds, “Good. See ya, Coach Anderson.” He strides to the passenger door and plops down in the seat, closing the door behind him.

Mitch’s face is still sour, and he’s still glaring at my hand. He places his hand over mine, sending warmth shooting up my arm. The sensation of his rough, warm hand is something I’ve never experienced, something new. Sure, I’ve held hands with men before, but this contact is unique… it’s more… somehow.

The distraction of his gigantic, calloused, manly hand covering mine keeps me from noticing that Mitch is still silent… and glaring. When my wits come back, I stare at him, feeling utterly confused. Did I do something?

“Did Noah piss you off, Big Man? Why the sour face?”

He nudges my hand with his, and I realize he wants me to remove my hand from the bag. Feeling embarrassed, and a little offended, I remove my hand quickly. This whole time he was completely unaffected by the feel of my hand. Meanwhile, for me, the feel of his hand on mine will linger for days. I’ll dream about that big, grumpy hand. And wonder how those calluses would feel against my cheek, or running through my hair? Really freaking nice, I bet.

“Noah should carry his own bag,” the big guy finally speaks, his voice doing that low, grumbly thing that makes me want to curl into it, to nuzzle my face against his stubbly throat and see what his voice feels like. “He shouldn’t make you do it.”

He lifts the huge bag like it weighs nothing, making me think back to a few weeks ago when I saw Mitch for the first time… when he lugged me over his shoulder like I weighed no more than a stuffed animal. He doesn’t step aside after lifting the bag inside the trunk, but stays put.

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