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If I didn’t leave, I was afraid I was going to punch him. No, he was being such a little bitch I was sure I was going to punch him.
He was giving me hard fouls, taking some cheap shots, and talking more shit than usual. I had no idea what his problem was, but he definitely had a bug up his ass about something. It was pissing me off, and if I’d stayed at the facility, things were going to get ugly. So, since I was trying to keep my nose clean, I thought it best if I go home, have a pizza and some beer, watch a little TV, and chill the fuck out.
“Just what the doctor ordered,” I muse and take a pull off my beer bottle.
I flip the channel and find a hockey game and glance at my watch, my stomach rumbling as I wait for my pizza to arrive. When a knock sounds at the door, I pull the ice pack off my knee and drop it on the coffee table then walk down the hall. The second I open the door, all thoughts of food flee my mind.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hey,” Bailey says with a smile.
“What are you doing here?”
“Can I come in?”
“Yeah, of course. Sorry.”
I stand aside and let her in then close the door behind her. She’s wrapped up in a long coat and scarf, which I find odd. It’s chilly out tonight, but it doesn’t seem that cold to me. I guess everybody’s body temperature runs differently. I lead her into the living room and offer her a seat, but she remains standing, her arms folded over her chest almost defensively.
Bailey’s got a strange look on her face I can’t quite interpret, but I presume she still feels awkward about what happened between us. Or maybe more accurately, what didn’t happen between us. I got the feeling she’d been avoiding me at the arena the past few days because of it and not wanting to force the issue with her, I gave her some space.
She still seems uneasy, which makes me wonder why she’s standing in my living room.
“Hockey, huh?” she asks, pointing to the TV. “I thought you were a one-sport kind of guy.”
“I’m multifaceted like that,” I tell her. “I often think if I hadn’t devoted myself to basketball, I would have played hockey.”
“Why basketball?”
I shrug. “It just felt right. My heart was more on the court than the rink.”
“Interesting.”
“So… how did you know where I live?” I ask, breaking the pregnant silence between us.
“I told you,” she replies with a grin. “I’m a woman with connections.”
I laugh softly. “Right. I forgot.”
Another silence ensues, and I wait for her to say something. Anything. She just stands there, gnawing on her bottom lip, her eyes wide and uncertain. Just the fact that she’s here is strange enough. But Bailey is not a woman who ever seems at a loss for words. To have her standing in my living room, staring at me expectantly, is beyond weird.
“Not that I mind seeing you or anything, but what are you doing here, Bailey?”
“I…”
Her voice trails off, and she looks down. Again, she stands in silence for a long few moments. This situation is getting weirder by the minute.
“I have a pizza coming,” she says. “You’re welcome to finish watching the game and eat with me.”
A look of determination crosses her face, and I finally realize that she’s nervous. That she’s been working herself up to something.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
She doesn't answer me. Instead, she shrugs out of her coat, letting it fall to the floor in a heap, and when I see what she's wearing underneath, my eyes nearly pop out of my skull. Bailey stands in front of me wearing silky black panties and a bra with a matching garter and stocking set…and nothing else. The black fabric of her lingerie stands in stark contrast to her smooth, pale skin and rich, auburn hair and is incredibly alluring.
As I gaze at her, my heart beats a drunken rhythm in my chest, my stomach churning and all the blood in my body rushing to my groin. Her green eyes sparkle with desire but, at the same time, are filled with uncertainty. She’s trying to hide it, but I can see her trembling. She’s terrified.
Even though she’s still half-clothed, I can tell she’s never been quite this naked in front of a man before. She bites her bottom lip and steps closer to me.
