Page 59 of Hard to Get

“Why are we watching a movie if you’re not going to pay attention?”

“Sometimes, my mind wanders. Or my hands.”

Laughter wells up inside me. My next suggestion is rejected because he heard the dog dies and he can’t watch that. “I give up. Let’s watch a hockey game.”

“Okay!”

There are several to choose from. Since it’s still early on the west coast, we watch part of a Boston versus Florida game, then Winnipeg in Seattle.

Jayden’s hands do wander as we watch, but in a sweet way: running through my hair, tracing up and down my arm, holding my hand. I pull the soft throw blanket on the back of the couch over us as I snuggle into him. The dogs have tired out and are crashed on the rug, side by side. Frank is on his back, snoring. With the lights in the kitchen and dining room off, the lamps and the TV give off a muted glow in the room.

This is nice.

It’s not that I’m opposed to relationships. I just don’t need one. I don’t need to seek out men like my mom does. I have everything I need. My job, my condo, my friends. My dog. And if I want sex… well, that’s not hard to find. As I have seen this weekend.

But this companionship—complaining about the reffing while watching a hockey game, watching our dogs play, nestled in against his big, warm body on the couch—it’s nice.

When the game is over, Jayden removes his arms from around me to do a full-body stretch. His shirt lifts and reveal his stomach, just where a trail of dark hair runs down under his pants. I want to kiss him there.

He turns to me and touches my face, leaning in to kiss me. “That was fun.”

“It was.”

He kisses me again, this time longer, his tongue licking inside my mouth. My bones melt and a hot need swirls in my belly. Again.

“I don’t want to leave you,” he murmurs against my lips.

“The feeling is mutual.” We kiss again. “But go.”

Somehow, he makes it out of my home. When I close and lock the door behind him, I’m almost too weak to walk. Something feels different. And it’s scary.

Please don’t let me fall in love.

16

JAYDEN

“This road trip was a shit show.”

“Yeah,” Stella replies. “I was watching.”

It’s Friday and we got home early this morning. I slept on the overnight flight, but still headed straight to bed when I got in the door. I just got back from picking up Frank at the doggy daycare and decided to call Stella. “There’s more shit that’s been happening off the ice. But yeah, on the ice has been bad enough.” We lost both games in Pittsburgh and Nashville.

“Bishop really lost his mind after that goal got disallowed.”

Ugh. “Yeah, he was frustrated.”

He’d played shitty the whole game and when he finally got a goal, it was called back for goalie interference. Then when he crashed out on the ref, he got a ten-minute misconduct for abuse of an official. You can’t do shit like that.

But even worse was after the game. The mood in the dressing room was sullen. There wasn’t much talk but you could feel the animosity. Guys were pissed at Bish. Especially Sammy. A couple of times, he’d come back to the bench cursing because he’d been wide open and Bish hadn’t passed to him.

Seriously, what the fuck is that about?

Talking to Stella makes me feel a little calmer about it all, but I’m still agitated. “Can I take you out for dinner tonight?” I ask her now.

There’s a beat of silence, and then she says, “I’m sorry. I have plans tonight.”

“Ah. With your friends?”