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I almost groan out loud as that thought goes through my head. This is not the taste of Luna that I need. And honestly, having something in my mouth that I know she touched might kill me.
"Coach ordered an entire spread for us. Luna is in there setting it up. Come on, you gotta come by for a little bit."
I frown at him. "Luna?"
Crew cocks a brow. "My sister? You've met her before. You were drooling all over her at my birthday party." He slaps me on the back. "Lucky for me, she doesn't date hockey players. Otherwise, I might have to keep an eye on you."
That jabs me in the chest. Luna is my teammate's sister. I mean, obviously, this isn't the first time I've thought that. I've known it since the minute I met her. Crew was the reason I met her. But I definitely wasn't thinking about that when I had my face between her thighs, or my dick in her mouth, or had her bent over Cam’s expensive couch, or when we had her spread out on the dining room table.
Even at Crew's birthday party, their relationship didn't stop me from flirting with her. Or, let's be honest, laying my heart on the line.
Not that it shook the little blonde sugar magician up.
I don't know what the fuck she puts in the desserts she makes, but I feel like I've been under a spell.
Or what she puts in her pussy.
I'm definitely addicted either way.
I clear my throat as I look at her brother. "Of course, I know who Luna is. I didn't know she was setting up some dessert spread for us."
"Yeah, it's a surprise. I guess from Coach Phillips. That’s what the staff is saying, anyway. Luna’s team showed up with her van full of stuff saying Coach had ordered a bunch of stuff.”
“Really?" Now I flash back to when I walked into the kitchen at Crew’s birthday party and found Luna and Coach talking.
I haven't thought much about it, because I had been so focused on Luna and what I needed to say to her. But they had definitely been in there for a while, and they looked pretty friendly.
Was something going on with Coach and Luna? Was that why she wasn't calling me? Was that why she wasn't coming back to me?
Oh fuck that.
I've been giving her space because she didn't want to date. Allegedly. She wants to focus on her business. She has huge plans and dreams and I’m trying to respect that.
But if she can be flirty, go out with other guys, then she fucking has time for me.
Not only did I make that girl come harder than she ever has, she had fun with us. Dammit, she did. I know it.
I jerk my shirt off the hanger and ask Crew, "Where is this thing?"
"Down in the conference room."
My heart flips over. She’s still here. That was why she left after the first intermission.
I feel a little loosening of the anger and hurt—yes, I can admit that’s what I was feeling—that had been tightening my chest all night.
She hadn't left because she didn't want to see the game, or me.
She hasn't been in the back hallway for weeks. Months. But she's been at all of our games. And every once in a while when I look up at her, our eyes meet.
She's watching me.
Cam says they don't talk, but I know my friend well. That's as much because of him as it is because of her.
But I like having her eyes on me. I like just having her there.
Now she's just down the hall, and I am going to fucking see her, and talk to her, and tell her how I'm feeling tonight.
I shrug into my suit jacket and pull my phone out. I text Cam.
