Page 20

KENDRA

Standing outside Jack’s apartment door with two duffel bags on my back and a suitcase by my feet is the strangest kind of surreal.

Single, homeless, and about to move in with my ex-boyfriend’s rival.

“Jesus, Kendra,” I whisper under my breath as I lift my hand and knock twice on the white double doors.

I don’t need to see inside his apartment to know that this place is an NHL player’s stomping ground. The lobby and hallway were enough to clue me in. But when Jack pulls the door open and light cascades in through the huge windows, bouncing against the vast white walls and marble floor, I’m reminded of the other side of pro athlete life.

“Hey.” Jack speaks first, swiping the back of his hand across his brow.

“Hey,” I reply awkwardly as I try—and fail—to disguise the once-over my brain can’t seem to prevent.

Today, he’s wearing light-blue gym shorts and a dark blueBlades T-shirt, and by the flush on his face, I assume he was working out.

He moves to one side, opening the door slightly wider, and when I step through, he reaches out and takes my suitcase from me, our fingers brushing in the process.

“You found it okay then?” Jack closes the door behind him as I continue taking in the open plan living space.

As I swivel around, I wear a sarcastic look that could be interpreted as confidence, but really, I’m nervous as shit and way out of my depth. “You mean using the directions to one of the most exclusive apartment buildings in Brooklyn? Yeah, the taxi driver found it just fine.”

He huffs out a laugh and sets my suitcase by the side table, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I don’t own it or anything.”

“Is this the kind of living budget the Blades offer then?”

On a wince, Jack scratches at the back of his neck. “It’s Jon’s. Last year, he bought five apartments to rent out, this one included.”

I nod my head lightly, but don’t move.

“I pay him market rent though. Wouldn’t want to take handouts now, would I?”

When I look up at him, his cheeks are still flushed red, and his hair is a cute, disheveled mess.

I can’t help but press my lips together with amusement. “That would never do, Morgan.”

He rocks back on his white Nike sneakers, which look brand-new, just like this apartment.

“You keep the place nice,” I say, taking a step toward the insanely big kitchen situated behind Jack. When I reach the island, I pull off my duffel bags and dump them on the counter.

“Not always,” he replies, following me and heading for the fridge.

Opening the door, he pulls out two bottles of water and holds one out for me, which I take.

“Ah, the cleaner just left then.” I smile, swallowing my first sip.

He sets his bottle beside him and leans back against the counter, gripping the gray granite in his palms. “Speak for yourself, Hart. I clean up my own mess.”

Silence spreads between us as he picks up his bottle and takes another sip, and as I do the same, I find myself trying to work out the atmosphere between us. Would I call it awkward? Not exactly since it’s clear Jack has no problem making eye contact with me. In fact, he hasn’t stopped watching me since I walked through his door. Still, whatever it is settling in the room between us, it’s charged to fuck.

I clear my throat, trying to move past the feeling. “So, which one is my room?” I ask.

“Shit. Yeah, sorry.” Jack pushes off the counter, almost like he was locked in the same kind of thought process as me.

Walking over to my suitcase, he picks it up and then heads straight for the island, grabbing my bags and holding them in his other hand.

When he reaches the threshold to a long hallway, he pauses and turns to me. “I gave you the room that overlooks the city. There’s a good view of the bridge, and the bed is bigger in this one.” He closes his eyes, but only for a millisecond before they’re back on me. “In case you like to, you know, spread out and have lie-ins.”

After the bestpart of two weeks living out of a suitcase, unpacking my clothes and organizing them into a dresser was nothing short of therapeutic. And the same with this apartment. Jack’s spare room and en suite about brought me to tears when he opened the door and the cityscape and large black bed cameinto view. The room has a monochrome finish with low-level lighting around the floor. Which, incidentally, is also heated.