Page 15

Story: Perfect Deke

“Because I’m not with Tyler anymore?” she asks.

I shake my head, my smile obvious. “You’ve never been the enemy. I care because I saw.” I pause, sitting forward and drumming my fingers lightly on the table, searching for the right words. “I care because I saw a girl being treated like shit by a guy who was supposed to care for her. And nearly two weeks later, I see her with her head in her hands and circles around her eyes. I was brought up to give a shit about others.”

Her full lip makes its way back between her white teeth as she nods subtly. “I … ugh … I’m kind of in a bit of a jam, and I’m running out of options beyond my teammate’s sofa bed.”

“Wait,” I say, rage tearing through me. “You’re telling me you lived with him and he kicked you out?”

She shakes her head. “Nah. It’s actually worse. I had my own place, but the night after I ended it with Tyler, the ceiling in my apartment fell in.”

I sit up. “Shit. Fuck. Are you okay?”

“I’m okay. My apartment? Not so much. My landlord initially told me it would be several weeks to get it fixed and livable again, so I figured I’d ride it out in Jenna’s living room. But since the mattress is like sleeping on nails and she’s, well, in a new relationship …”

Her cheeks flush as she looks up at me, and, fuck, I’m growing hard again.

She clears her throat. “So, yeah, last night, my landlord called me to say the contractors working on the repairs had found asbestos.”

“Shit,” is all I can manage.

“Yep.” She pops theP. “I’m being released from my lease early since the entire building is now condemned, and I’m left trying to find a new place on a limited budget and a pathetic contribution from my team since the league isn’t made of money …” She pauses and takes a deep breath. “And moving into team housing is not what I want to do.”

I go to open my mouth, but she cuts me off.

“Oh, and before you ask, no, I don’t want to ask my dad for money or my brother or anyone else for help. I made it as a pro soccer player, and at twenty-two, I’m not about to ask my parents for handouts.” She sits back in her chair, arms crossed over her chest in frustration.

Her eyes narrow at me as I smile at her—again.

“It’s not funny, Jack.”

I hold out a hand in defense. Yeah, this girl is definitely giving me kitten vibes. “Whoa, whoa. I never said it was.”

She huffs and looks down at the floor, pinks still painting her cheeks. I know Kendra’s dad was a big-time Premier Leagueplayer back in the day, and her brother, Ollie, is also playing in Europe right now. They could easily put her up in a penthouse, but something tells me this girl has fought her way to the top of a game that’s male-dominated, and it’s that same determination that’s causing her to hang back from going to them for money.

“I respect the fact that you don’t want to go to your family for help. Also that you want to have your own space.”

“Thank you,” she replies on an exhale.

“Was that how much you’re short for a new place? Two hundred?” I ask, remembering the figure on her phone.

She uncrosses her legs before crossing them over again in the opposite direction. “Yes. I was viewing a place not far from here. It was perfect, but with the bills and even with the contribution from the Storm, I’d fall way short each month, and I can’t get by on that, obviously.”

Even in my first season in the NHL, I earn way more than I can spend. Both my parents are comfortable, and my sister is just like Kendra—fiercely independent and working two jobs to get her through the last year of college.

“I’m sorry, Kendra,” I reply. “What about farther out of Brooklyn?”

She shakes her head. “I guess that’s my only option other than sharing a house. I can’twaitto get up at four a.m. and ride the subway across town. A pro athlete, and I can’t even afford my own place.” Her voice wobbles on the final word, and, fuck, now I want to wrap my arms around her.

Silence stretches between us for a few seconds, and then it hits me.

My place.

Sure, she’d be living with me and not on her own, but I’m about to start a season where I’ll be away as much as I’m at home.

As I fight with the fear of her laughing straight in my face, I open my mouth to suggest my idea when she pushes back from the table and swipes a quick hand under her eye.

She swings her rucksack onto her back and throws me a brief glance, eyes shining with tears. “Thank you for the scone and for making me smile today. Trust me, I needed it.” She pushes her chair back under the table and looks at me again. “I hope you kill it this season. Ty always said you were riding on your stepdad’s success, but from what I’ve seen in preseason footage, you absolutely aren’t.”

Before I get a chance to reply, she’s past me and heading for the door.