Page 11 of Breaking Point (IceHawks #1)
Grayson
CALEB ELLINGTON
anyone down to shoot hoops?
KIERAN ASHFORD
didn’t learn your lesson last time?
CALEB ELLINGTON
I have it on video that my foot wasn’t out of bounds
KIERAN ASHFORD
funny
I have a video showing that it was out of bounds
MATTEO VALENTI
just toss it up to an optical illusion and move on
I’m down for some hoop time
KIERAN ASHFORD
move on???
MOVE ON?
rich coming from the man who had a screengrab that proved a ref made the wrong call against him in a game printed on a shirt
CALEB ELLINGTON
he’s got you there, Valenti
MATTEO VALENTI
Ashford’s right, your foot was out of bounds
CALEB ELLINGTON
TRAITOR!!!
KIERAN ASHFORD
victory tastes amazing
CALEB ELLINGTON
Crawford, for the love of god, wake up and fix your best friend
KIERAN ASHFORD
only thing needing fixing is your phone camera
GRAYSON
why do I always get summoned when Kieran pisses people off?
and sorry dude but your foot was over the line
CALEB ELLINGTON
the whole lot of you are traitors
KIERAN ASHFORD
how does it taste to lose?
T he last thing I expected to find when searching for Advil was the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen, standing as stiff as a statue and blinking furiously at me in my living room.
The pounding of my wet feet against the hardwood floor comes to a screeching halt. My jaw opens and closes like a fish flailing out of water because I have no idea what to say to her. What do you say to the most beautiful woman to ever exist?
Suddenly, my hands become damp and my chest tightens. Wait, am I…nervous?
I’ve never had this happen before. No woman has made me nervous, let alone speechless in my own house.
Blood rushes through my ears as her lips part. Long brown hair trails down and over her back, resting along her waist. The color matches her eyes, and despite how common the color is, I find I’m hypnotized.
How did I forget bringing her home?
Forget bringing her home, how could I forget any interaction with her?
The smattering of freckles along her cheeks and nose become stark against the blush that crawls along her face.
Following the path of her freckles, my gaze snags on her eyes and I realize where they’ve landed.
A smirk tugs at the corner of my lips, until I remember I’m in a towel—a very small towel because I have no clean laundry.
I rub the nape of my neck. “I can’t believe these words are coming out of my mouth, but um…” I clear my throat. “What exactly did we do last night? My memory is a bit hazy.”
Her brows jump sky-high, along with the pitch of her voice. “Excuse me?”
Never matter the words, her voice … God, I want to record it just to listen to it on repeat, the way it sends shivers down my spine. Ignoring the flood of sensation, I rush on, hating that I’ve put the divot between her brows there as she looks at me with…disgust?
Why is she looking at me with disgust?
“I’m sorry, I must have drunk far too much and it’s clouded my memory.”
“And your judgment.”
My head cocks to the side. “That, too,” I admit. But certainly not with her.
As if hearing my thoughts, she barks out an incredulous laugh before throwing up her hands. “I’m not some puck bunny!”
“Who said anything about puck bunnies?”
She’s far from one.
Puck bunnies will do anything to bag a hockey player.
Either by sleeping with them or marriage to earn the title of being called a WAG.
And to do so, they mold themselves to fit the version they think you want.
They won’t express their own thoughts or opinions because they’re too scared of sending you running.
So they sit there and smile and nod and act as if you’re God’s gift to the world.
But she… I can’t help but smile.
She snapped at me. I’ve never had a woman snap at me like that before.
It’s surprisingly hot. So hot I’m going to have to move my towel in a moment. Jesus, what am I? A teenager? One look and snarky snap from this woman and my hormones are frayed.
“Stop smiling,” she demands.
Now I’m smirking. “Sorry, love, can’t help it.”
Something I’ve said makes her stiffen, and then she glowers. “Do not call me that.”
“What? Love?”
“Yes, anything besides my name. It’s inappropriate.”
“What’s inappropriate is that I don’t have your number.” Or maybe I do. I truly don’t remember anything after the shots I forced Kieran to take with me.
She barely contains an eye roll. “If you’d check Lucy’s messages, I’m sure she’s sent along my details.”
Now I frown. “Why would Lucy know your details? Did she set us up?”
“Set us up?” Her eyes widen. “Grayson, I’m not a hookup or a date. I’m your goddamn assistant.” She huffs, muttering under her breath, “And now I’m starting to realize why the job pays so high.”
Fucked isn’t the right word to accurately describe how thoroughly I’ve misread the situation at hand, and yet it’s the only word ringing through my mind like a broken church bell.
Fucked.
Fucked.
FUCKED .
Pulling out my phone, I find she’s right, I have a slew of unread messages from Lucy, all stating that Bella is starting today and to not scare her away because she enjoys this one’s company. At least now I understand why she was blinking at me furiously when I rounded the corner in my towel.
Which, speaking of…
I go to grab the closest shirt I can find, only to pause at the tidiness of my living room. I wave a hand around the room. “I take it this is your doing?”
She lifts her chin. “Yes.”
“Thank you. I usually hire cleaners if I trash the place.”
She shrugs. “It’s part of my job description. I don’t mind.”
Job.
Assistant.
Not mine.
Shaking my head, I try to clear my thoughts but all I can seem to focus on is the smattering of freckles along the bridge of her nose. I’ve counted seventeen so far.
I wonder if I’ll reach my lucky number.
She truly is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and that’s saying something as an NHL player. Whether I welcome it or not, women approach me, yet none like her.
I can hear the pounding of my rapid heartbeat in my ears.
Are my hands still clammy? What’s wrong with me?
“Are you going to stand there staring at me all day or are you going to put on some clothes and tell me what you need from me?”
A choked burst of laughter escapes me. “I don’t think a woman has ever asked me that before.”
Her brow arches. “Maybe you need to reevaluate who you surround yourself with then.”
“Bit of a harsh assessment from our short five minutes.”
Despite the brashness of her words, I find myself fighting a smile.
“Am I wrong?”
After a beat I fail, my smile stretching. “Not entirely. ”
“You’ll be more certain of your answer when you hear what happened in your living room this morning.”
It isn’t until I’m clothed in gray sweats and a white T-shirt does Bella finally explain what happened this morning, or what exactly she stopped from happening. I can’t help but groan and hide my face in my hands, but I’m sure she can still see the heat climbing up my neck to my cheeks.
I’m giving this woman the worst impression possible. No doubt the worst first day at a job as well.
“I’m not sure what to say other than thank you,” I say gruffly after a weighted pause.
“No need to thank me. It’s part of my job.”
I chuckle humorlessly. “I know the contracts Lucy sends over are monstrous but I’m pretty sure being my bouncer and internet security savior aren’t part of your job description.”
“Well…no, but I take it from the large NDA you like your privacy.”
“Usually yes.” When my head is screwed on.
Bella gnaws on her lower lip and I find I can’t pull my gaze away. “What are the chances those girls come back and rip out my hair?”
I pause to consider. With some girls, I would say yes, but my memory is so hazy from last night I don’t even remember them.
But I don’t need to go bury myself in a deeper hole with her.
If I can rectify the shabby impression she has on me, I’ll do it, so I decide to settle on, “Honestly, it could be a possibility.”
“Great,” she mutters. “Well, we should hurry up and get on with things before I lose an eye.” Bella rises, taking out a laptop from her bag before settling down beside me on the kitchen bar stool once more.
The screensaver I get a peek at is a photo of her and a redhead with blue eyes.
Both their cheeks are flushed, their eyes slightly glazed.
There’s no doubt in my mind that they’re intoxicated, but it isn’t the location or the strapless outfit Bella’s wearing in the image that makes my heart skip a beat.
It’s the smile on her face the photo has captured.
The one that makes me remember what happiness feels like.
It’s radiating off her, rolling toward me in waves and it’s like I’m a starved man in the desert gulping down the droplets of joy I’ve been isolated from.
Until it’s ripped away from me as Bella pulls up her notes app with one titled, Grayson To-Do .
That shouldn’t be dirty and yet I find myself holding my body very still as the scent of her perfume greets me. It’s such an intoxicating fragrance it takes everything in me not to turn to her and sniff like a dog.
It’s heady, powerful and distracting.
So much so I don’t notice she’s talking to me until she jabs my forearm.
Why am I getting goosebumps from the tip of her finger?
“Earth to Grayson.”
Clearing my throat, I scoot my bar stool away an inch just to allow my brain the space it needs to function. “What exactly are we doing?”
She looks me over as if that’s the most foolish thing I could have asked. “Covering my duties? Lucy didn’t send me anything besides the contracts and your front gate code and a key.”
Assistant.
Not my future girlfriend.
Why didn’t Lucy set this up? She has for the rest of them. Perhaps this is my punishment for making her find me several new assistants.
For what feels like the millionth time since I’ve met her, heat climbs up my neck. “Of course, let me just get my season roster.”
Jumping from the stool slightly faster than I should, I ignore the eyes searing a hole into the back of my head as I go to the printer I keep down here. Except when I open the cabinet between the kitchen and living room, all I find are half-empty bottles of alcohol .
So this is where my alcohol cart contents went. Even my mixers are in here.
Who the hell moved my printer?
“A little early for a drink, don’t we think?”
A dark laugh escapes me and I hope it sounds like a real laugh because I feel like I’m dying on the inside over the fact I don’t know where my own printer is.
How did I get to this point?
Opening the next cabinet, the lustful sensation over Bella’s presence slowly ebbs away, quickly replaced by panic as I find one thing after the other isn’t where it’s meant to be.
Have I been so utterly drunk that I didn’t realize someone rearranged the contents of my house?
“Grayson?” Bella’s voice dances along my skin like a calm balm.
“No, not drinking. I just got…confused?”
It comes out more like a question than a statement as I move through the rest of the kitchen and the living room. Nothing is where it usually is.
Where the hell is all my shit?