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Don’t do it, Leeza.Don’t freaking do it!
Me: Was she pretty?
God, I am so pathetic.
Rhys: Yeah, she’s pretty.Not as pretty as you, though.
Like a silly girl with a crush, my pulse jumps in my neck.
Me: You have no idea what I look like.
Rhys: Doesn’t matter.I like…this.
I settle back into my pillow as I imagine him doing the same, liking this texting back and forth a lot too.I also like that our calls are not sexual in nature.I like asking questions about his team and he always praises the guys, telling me how they visit the hospitals and want to set good examples for the rookies.I honestly don’t see the toxic culture the editor-in-chief talks about.When Rhys asks me questions, he’s always respectful and curious, wanting to know about my life and my plans.I’m always careful to share what I can.I can’t have him finding out what I do.Once again, another burst of guilt moves through me.
Toying with the T-shirt I’m wearing and rereading his messages, my lids close, and for the briefest of seconds I feel a tinge of disappointment that this conversation always stays clean.
What the hell, Leeza?
I push that thought down, even though there is a part of me—maybe even a huge part—that would like to know what it’s like to be touched or kissed by the sweet man texting me—the sweet man in the room across the hall—not the one who showboats at parties.For the next thirty minutes, I text with a guy I can’t believe I’m falling for.Not that we could ever have a relationship.If he ever found out what I was up to, he’d never want anything to do with me and I can’t blame him.He stops texting and I think he’s falling asleep.I know I am.
Me: Am I keeping you up?
Rhys: I could ask you the same.Oh no, wait, you’re three hours earlier in Alberta.
Me: Yeah, but the holidays are killing me.I’ll be glad when I get back to my regular routine.
Rhys: I’ll be glad when you’re back too.Tomorrow night, right?
Me: Yup.
Rhys: Are we finally going to meet?
Me: We’ll see.Night, Rhys.
Rhys: Night, Lisa.
I set my phone down, my heart full of…happiness.I roll and tuck my hands under his pillow, liking that he’s in the next room, watching over me.My lids drift shut and the next thing I know, banging sounds downstairs wake me.I slide from the bed, make a quick trip to the bathroom, and quietly go down the stairs.
The second I round the corner and find Rhys, or rather Cheddar, standing before the stove, dressed in nothing but low-hanging sweats, all my girly parts go weak, but it’s nothing compared to what my body does when he turns, and smiles, and points to the table where a big glass of juice awaits me.
“Sit.Bacon and eggs.It helps with the hangover.”
I swallow against a tight throat.Honest to God, if this man is playing me, and really is part of the toxic culture in hockey, and I refuse to write an article on him, I risk losing the coveted position at the Gazette.
But if he isn’t playing me and isn’t part of the toxic culture, and Idowrite the article, then I risk losing a chance at the man I’m falling for.Either way, I’m screwed.
3
Rhys
Itake my last bite of bacon and set my fork down, staring at the gorgeous girl across from me.“If you have no plans, why don’t you come along?”I’m not sure why, but I’m just not ready to let her go yet.It’s strange.Just chatting with her this morning, I felt like I knew her forever.She’s as easy to talk to as Lisa.It’s weird, I barely know either one, but I have the strangest feeling I could fall for both of them.
“I don’t want to intrude.You’re here with your brother and his friend.”
I snort.“Trust me.Dane would rather hang out with a beautiful woman over me.He’ll enjoy it.Just don’t listen to any of his bullshit.He has a lot to learn about women.”
Her head lifts, her interest piqued.“What do you mean?”
