Playmaker: A Moo U Hockey Romance by Sierra Hill & Heart Eyes Press

Author:Sierra Hill & Heart Eyes Press [Hill, Sierra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Heart Eyes Press LLC
Published: 2021-06-06T16:00:00+00:00

22

Aria

Six a.m. came way too fast, and I barely made it to practice on time.

And maybe I shouldn’t have made it at all because I was a hot mess this morning and Coach Cray yelled at me no less than five times to get my head out of my ass and back into the drills or she’d give me some suicide sprints.

But I couldn’t get my head out of my ass because it was still stuck at home. In my bed. Where I found Cal this morning when I woke up. And I’m still trying to piece together everything that happened and how in the hell Callan ended up in my bed.

I believe him when he told me he was worried because I’m sure I was having a night terror last night. I know the signs. Stress triggers an episode and while it seems like I’m awake at the time, I end up with no recall of what transpired.

It’s kind of like being passed out or waking with amnesia. But in my case, I haven’t been drinking or in an accident. I’m technically sleepwalking but look and act like I’m wide awake. It’s an eerie combination.

And I have no doubt I probably freaked Cal out with my unusual behavior. And now I feel like an absolute fool having no recollection of what we did. My episodes feel like dreams but I’m actually awake doing them. I am vaguely aware of us fooling around. I remember him caressing my hair and me shoving his hand between my legs.

I groan with humiliation over my actions. I know Cal. He’d never do anything without my consent first.

Which means, I probably instigated it.

Having finished practice, I return home for breakfast before my first class of the day, hoping the timing is right so I won’t run into Cal. Both Sam and Sophie went off in their own directions. Sam is meeting Justin at the Green Bean and Sophie went to the library to finish a paper for a class due by nine.

Walking through the front door, I drop my bag in the entryway and take a whiff of air. It smells like fried sausage and eggs and my stomach growls in its interpretation of a bear.

“Oh my God, that smells delicious,” I call out, rounding the kitchen wall to find Stefan standing at the stove with his back to me, flipping something over in the fry pan.

He peers over his shoulder and grins, waving a spatula in the air. “G’morning, luv. Come on in and grab some plates and I’ll dish you up some. Brekky is my specialty.”

I do as he suggests and grab two plates from the cabinet, select some utensils from the drawer, and set them on the table as the tea kettle shrills loudly.

“Help yourself to some English tea, luv,” he nods his head to the cup with one of those fancy tea infusers already in place. I wave him off, veering toward the coffee pot.

“Nice of you to offer, but I’ll stick with my morning brew.

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