Page 13 of Branded (Breakers Hockey)

Thirteen

Smitty

I strolled through the hallway, the package in my hand crinkling, barely able to hold my grin back.

I’d gotten up at the crack of dawn after staying up way too late talking to Kailey the night before.

After—I had to be real there—getting off the phone with her, the clock showing two in the morning, and unable to sleep, so whacking off for the second time that evening…something I’d done again that morning in the shower.

I was going to start chafing.

I didn’t give a fuck.

Not after hearing her breathy moans on the phone, my name on her tongue.

Kailey had done that.

With me on the phone—which, okay, had been an accident, because she’d confessed later that she’d been trying to end the call, not pick it up. But I’d take that accident and imprint it on my soul .

Never forgetting that.

Ever.

And now I was definitely going to find a way to use that toy on her, to see her shatter as she came with it.

Now I was going to find a way to get her to come on my tongue, to watch her face as she fell apart and?—

“Were you…” A pause that yanked me out of my thoughts. “Were you going to come in?”

I was going to come inside her and?—

Fuck, man.

Pull it together.

I’d slept with plenty of women. This wasn’t the time to stomp forward like an elephant in an antique store, rattling the wares and knocking shit over. This was finessing the forward momentum and?—

Fuck.

What did I know about finesse?

I was brute force and no filter.

Which was probably why I jerked my head up, saw those gorgeous green eyes locked on me, the pink on her cheeks, and asked, “Do you blush like that when you come, too?”

Her mouth fell open.

That blush went from zero to seven million.

The pencil she’d been holding dropped to the desk.

I strolled in, crossing to her, wondering what she’d do next. Tell me—probably rightfully—to get the fuck out. Invite me to come closer and demonstrate her ability to come (oh, please, God, let it be the second).

Her lips parted?—

I braced, waiting.

“What’s in the bag?”

I froze for a minute, my dirty mind already well down the path of her demanding I slam the door and telling me to get on my knees between her legs.

Then I managed to reverse slightly, enough to process the question, remember the bag, and…

“Here.” I thrust it at her. “I…” Now my cheeks actually felt a little hot, though thankfully, my beard mostly covered them. “I got this for you after last night.”

More pink flaring.

But, to her credit, she didn’t back down.

Just grabbed the bag, opened it, and…

“You’re such an ass.”

But it was said with twitching lips as she pulled out the cookbook by one of the contestants from the show she had been watching the night before.

“For the next time you…get some inspiration.”

A sigh and a smile and a shake of her head.

The Classic Smitty response as my mom would say.

But then fire in green eyes. The exasperated smile turning sinful. “Did you?” she asked, setting the book down and drifting closer.

“Did I what?” I asked, trailing my fingers through the ends of her hair, smelling the soft notes of flowers in the locks, the cinnamon on her breath and her skin, studying the spray of freckles that danced over her pert nose.

“Did you”—she rose on tiptoe, leaned up to whisper in my ear—“ find…inspiration? ”

I jumped when she flicked out her tongue.

And she dropped back onto her heels, smirking liked she’d won.

But since I could take it as well as I dished it out, I wrapped an arm around her waist, drew her flush to me, and said, “I did, little bird. Three times.” A nip to the corner of her jaw.

“Once before I called you. Once after we hung up.” I flexed my hips lightly, just enough for her to feel that I was ready to find inspiration again.

“And once more this morning, just before I went out to buy that.”

A shudder skating through her frame. “Why?” she whispered.

“Mmm?” I inhaled the scent of her, drawing it deep into my lungs. “Why what?”

“Why did you get the book?”

I pressed my lips to her throat and then straightened, letting a little distance come between us. “Because I like teasing you.”

Her brows drew together. “Why?”

I brushed a thumb beneath one eye then the other. “Because these shoot sparks at me.”

The lines on her forehead deepened. “You want me to be annoyed with you?”

Yeah. I did. “Yeah, little bird, because you being annoyed with me means that you’re not anxious around me, that you’re seeing me, the real, annoying me ”—more sparks that had me grinning, had her swatting me lightly on the chest—“and you’re not in your head, not full of worry. You’re here, in this moment, with me.”

“I—” She paused for a long minute, seeming to consider that.

Then her hand pressed to the spot over my heart, the one that was thudding away steadily, waiting for her verdict on that, hoping it was true, hoping that she’d agree with me.

“You’re right,” she whispered. “I…am comfortable with you. I don’t know why,” she added, and I grinned at the perplexity that joined her expression. “By all accounts, I shouldn’t be.”

“It’s because we’re meant to be together,” I said, matter-of-factly.

Her eyes went wide. “Um…what?”

“Yup.” Inside, my heart was pounding, but outside I tried to play it cool…or as cool as I ever did. “I saw you and I knew. Some part of you knows that now.”

“I…” She turned away, pushed her hand through her hair. “You know that sounds absolutely insane, right?”

“I do,” I agreed.

Her gaze slid over her shoulder. “Right. So…”

A shrug. “It doesn’t change what’s in here.” I pressed my fist to the spot over my heart. “This knows. It just…takes some time for the rest of it to catch up.”

Her fingers played along the edge of the cookbook. “And what if it doesn’t?”

I knew that wasn’t going to happen. The heat. The kiss. The phone call. Her being comfortable with me.

I’d known this woman was it for me from the moment I’d laid eyes on her.

I’d make sure it happened.

But this wasn’t the time for pressure.

Because the fire in her eyes had been tamped out. I’d gone too big, too fast, too Smitty . So, I shrugged. “Then the rest of it won’t, and we’ll just be friends, yeah?”

“I—” Her lips pressed flat, a frown deepening into lines surrounding her mouth. “Smitty, that’s not so simple?—”

A knock at the door.

Oliver stood there, his tablet in one hand.

He glanced from Kailey to me and his brows lifted. “I can come back…”

Maybe I should have hated my friend for the interruption, but frankly, it had come at the perfect moment.

Get her distracted, off the topic of what I knew was an inevitability in my heart, what I needed to convince her of, even if that convincing wasn’t going to happen at that moment.

This would buy me some additional time to get her there.

Or rather for me to regroup and find the right moment to circle back and reapproach.

Hopefully, with more finesse.

Or at least, with slightly less Smitty.

Oliver gestured down the hall. “I’ll just?—”

“No,” I said. “Don’t let me interrupt your meeting. I need to get on the ice anyway.”

Oliver’s eyes were on mine, warning and curiosity mixing in the pale blue depths. “Smitty.”

“See ya,” I muttered.

“ Smitty,” Oliver hissed.

“Later.”

Then I was vapor?—

Or at least, a six-foot-something hockey player who was hauling ass down the hallway.

Same difference anyway.