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Did the rest of the team pick it up to compensate for that?
Nope.
They matched us—only it wasn’t because they were maxed out. It was because they are lazy as fuck.
Which meant we got our asses handed to us and then a dressing down afterward for our trouble.
Fun times as a pro hockey player.
But all of that tension disappears when I walk into my bedroom, when I see Nova in my bed.
When I see the tiny demon, get that kiss on my cheek.
Nova’s brows pull together as she tosses back the blankets, her laptop and the movie on the TV forgotten. Then she’s moving toward me, stepping close—albeit careful of squashing Steve between us. Her hand comes to my jaw, and she runs her fingers through the stubble on my cheeks. “Practice was that bad, huh?”
My heart does that thing—the squeezing, the pulsing, the perking up and paying attention to this woman. “It was fine,” I say, brushing it off, brushing off her concern. “It’s not all rainbows and puppy dogs—”
“Woof!”
I grin, and pat Steve on the head, then look back at her. “Sometimes it’s not rainbows and sunshine. Sometimes it sucks.”
Her face gentles. “I’m sorry today sucked.”
I didn’t say that—at least not explicitly. But she gets it anyway.
My heart.
Fuck, I like her.
Fear coils along my spine, but I push it down. I’m not a fucking coward. I strap blades to my feet and hit people for a living. I can take a chance with a beautiful woman who looks at me like that, who’s not like my mom, not like Olivia, not—
Enough.
Running my finger along her bottom lip, I say, “I know something that will make it better.”
Her mouth curves as her hand slides down between us. “Oh? What might that be?”
Exactly where her hand is heading.
I steal a kiss—make it hot and wet and short because then I’m turning for the bathroom, setting Steve inside. He huffs out a sigh and immediately goes to his bed, even before I reach for the doorknob, having been in this position enough times over the last days to know his place.
Good pooch.
I grin, turn back.
And immediately, my cock goes hard.
Nova has pushed down her pants, tugged off her loose sweatshirt, leaving her in a flimsy bra and barely-there panties.
Her breasts—fuck, they’re my favorite thing in the whole world.
Or maybe that’s her ass, I think as she turns around, scooping up her clothes.
Okay, fine. It’s all of her—tits to ass to thighs to hair cascading down her naked back.
Her eyes. Her lips. Her gentle expression when she apologized for my shit day.
The scorching look she gives me right now.
