In It to Win It (Wynn Hockey) by Jamieson Kelly

Author:Jamieson, Kelly [Jamieson, Kelly]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2019-07-22T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

JP

My body hurts everywhere as I lean against the elevator wall riding up to my condo. I tug at the knot of my tie, still dressed in my game-day suit, then roll my shoulders back to ease some stiffness. When the elevator opens, I limp off, my foot and my hip protesting.

I’m okay. Got checked out after the game. Just took some hard hits, one into the boards that fucking should have been a penalty—I hope DoPS reviews it and that asshole Marzetti gets suspended. There also was the hit at center ice—I laid it on Brown, and it was clean, but we both felt it. And the puck I took in the foot standing in front of Mac, our goalie, when their D-man took a slap shot. It dropped me, but I managed to walk it off in the tunnel and get back in the game.

I open my door. Lights are on. I leave the foyer light on so Byron has a little light, but the living room lights are on too. I prowl in to check out what’s going on.

Taylor. Asleep on my couch.

I don’t move. Don’t make a sound. I just want to study her. Her gorgeous hair is spread all around her, her mouth full and soft, long lashes fanned on her soft cheeks. She’s on her side, wearing a pair of cropped leggings that leave her calves and feet bare, and one smooth shoulder is revealed by a pink tank top.

Byron’s on the floor next to her and he comes padding toward me, looking like he’s smiling, tail waving. I smile and crouch down to greet him, rubbing his ears. “Hey boy,” I whisper. “You happy to see me?”

I’m getting used to being greeted when I get home. No wonder people love dogs—he’s always happy I’m here, and it’s kinda nice.

I straighten and survey the big coffee table, and my forehead tightens as I take in the assorted pieces of paper cut into shapes, along with markers and glue. There’s also a half-full bottle of water and an empty package of what looks like cashews.

The TV’s still on, but the volume is down. Jill Atkins at SportsCenter is talking. That’s the channel our games are on. I smile as I realize Taylor must have been watching the game.

It’s been a couple of weeks since she moved into her apartment and Byron came to live here, and most of the time she comes over I don’t see her. I almost always know she’s been here, though. Sometimes I can smell her scent…the warm, fresh scent of flowers and vanilla that takes me back to the hotel suite and her in my bed there. And it makes my dick stir. Even if I don’t smell her, she’s usually done something—washed Byron’s dishes along with some of my own, tidied up his toys, or brushed him.

Pretty sure she’s avoiding me.

I fucking hate that.

On the other hand, it’s probably better, if we’re just going to be friends.

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