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Chapter Nine

PAYTON

Who would have thought a text conversation could be so stimulating?

I reread the messages from Lily, still amused and somewhat surprised at my comment about the penalty box.

Seems I’m a new fan of innuendos, however, I suspect that’s because of Lily.

She’s occupying more and more of my head space lately, and I’m not entirely sure how I feel about that yet.

I reposition the ice pack on my shoulder, stretching my neck to the side to subvert the ache radiating up from my shoulder. That last slam? Absolute corker. Might need to check if all my bones are still where they should be.

Our staff physical therapist checked me out, then gave me an ice pack and the all clear. I’m certain I’ll have a nice colorful bruise there by morning. Just a perk of the job.

Luke strolls over and stops in front of me. “How’s it feeling, Pay?”

I shift the ice pack down a little. “All good. Cleared for second period.”

“Good. Ethan and I will make sure Jennings doesn’t take another shot at you.”

Most of the time, hockey players shake it off. We know what this game takes and that the fans love a few skirmishes. No big deal. It all stays on the ice. But Jennings is definitely holding a grudge. “Cheers. Guess he’s still pissed.”

Luke grins and smacks my other shoulder. “Yeah, man. That steal last season was epic. Just part of the game. He’ll get over it.”

“Hope you’re right. At this rate, I’ll require a complete bodysuit made of ice packs.”

Using his fingers, Wade peels out a whistle, which I’m sure would make those cows he talks about on his family farm come running. “Listen up. Score’s zero zero. You boys need to light the lamp.”

Luke mutters. “Here we go again.”

Mathéo smacks Wade on the chest. “You say that almost every game, cowboy.”

Hands out at his sides, Wade grins. “I know. It’s a tradition, Barbie Man. Can’t break the pattern now. That would be bad luck. And I’m itching for a shutout.”

When we head out to the ice, I glance toward the seats where the WAGs usually sit. Lily waves, smiling. And she’s wearing my jersey. I figured she would, as she’s quite dedicated to playing her role, but part of me wondered if she actually would.

My mouth goes dry, and I’m pretty sure my pulse took a detour.

I lift my stick in acknowledgment but have to drag my eyes away.

Seeing her wearing my number is a distraction I don’t need right now.

Not with an overgrown toddler coming after me with a stick.

I’m determined to get through second period without any more crosschecks or slams from Jennings.

Plus, we need to score some points so we can take this game home. So what if it doesn’t count in the standings? Starting the pregame season with a loss isn’t great for morale.

Halfway into the second period, Jennings is back to his tactics of chasing me down or staying in my face. He’s already taken a penalty for hooking Ethan when he played interference during the last play. I have no intention of letting the bloke take me down again.

Ethan and Luke swap places with Elias and one of the rookies, joining me on the ice. The tension in my shoulders settles a margin, knowing they’ve got my back because I’m open and waiting for the puck so I can make a shot on goal.

Elias shoots it my way, and I’m after it. Problem is, Jennings is heading my direction like a bull on a stampede, as Wade would say. He’ll block my shot easily if I don’t change direction.

I skate behind the net with the plan to make a wrist shot into the corner of the net. Next thing I know, I’m flying up against the boards only to fall to the ice in a heap, trying to catch my breath from the impact and wondering what the hell hit me.

A quick upward glance confirms it was Jennings again.

I’m guessing he anticipated my move and changed direction, surprising Luke and Ethan as well.

The whistle blows as I struggle to get up.

Luke helps me up, and Wade, of all our players, gives Jennings a strong crosscheck—something he rarely does as a goaltender—and zings some choice words at him.

Jennings makes the mistake of shoving back. Ethan drops his gloves. The two wind up hanging on to each other, throwing random punches into each other’s necks and faces, which knocks their helmets off.

The fans are going nuts in the stands with shouts, stomping feet, and pounding the glass nearby. Finally, the refs move in and separate them.

Luke dips his head to see my face. “You okay?”

Still bent over, I nod, but in truth, the pain radiating in my side isn’t easing up. “Just need to catch my breath.”

The crowd boos when a penalty is called for both Ethan and Jennings. I can’t help but feel some satisfaction when the ref calls a major penalty and gives Jennings five minutes in the sin bin.

“Go get checked out, man. We got this.”

Luke helps me skate over to the exit, and I head down the tunnel with one of the trainers to the locker room. Every move keeps the pain waves coming. I’m sitting on the medic table, getting examined, when I hear Lily’s voice from the hallway.

“I’m his wife. I want to make sure he’s okay.” Her words are confident with just the right amount of concern. Even I’m inclined to believe her.

“It’s all right. Let her in.” I raise my voice as loud as I can without making my side scream.

Our medic already helped me out of my jersey and upper gear and seems to be on a mission as he prods my midsection.

He hits a tender spot that makes me jump and hiss through my teeth.

The last thing I need is a broken rib. That will keep me out of the game for two to three weeks, at least—not to mention practice.

“Is it broken?” Lily asks matter-of-factly, staring down the medic as if she’s in charge.

“Could just be a fracture. We’ll check to be sure.” The medic helps me lie down on the table. “You’ll need to step out while I do the X-ray.”

“Here?” Lily’s eyes widen.

I nod. “We have a portable machine.”

“Color me impressed.” She ducks out of the room.

After the medic does his thing, he lets Lily know she can come back in while he studies the images.

I’m still sprawled on the table when she rests a hand on my shoulder, her warmth pressing into my skin, setting off a slow burn beneath it.

Instead of the pain radiating out of my side, all I can focus on is what her touch is doing to me.

An image of tugging her against me while she’s wearing my jersey and kissing her plays out in my mind.

Best. Painkiller. Ever. Someone should bottle this .

She pulls over a wheeled stool and sits next to the exam table, keeping her voice to a whisper. “Del’s checking out that guy.”

I snap my eyes open and lift my head to look at her, but regret it immediately and groan. “Why?”

She raises a finger to her lips to hush me, which I find oddly stimulating. “Isn’t it obvious? The guy has it in for you.”

Shaking my head, I whisper back, “There’s no way he had anything to do with what happened to my cousin.”

She glances toward the medic. “Best to be sure.”

“He’s harmless.” I sling my arm over my eyes.

“Tell that to your ribs.” She snickers.

A grin is all I can manage at her humor. “I’ll be fine. He’s just holding a grudge.”

“Yeah, that’s what Mia and Sophie told me.”

I turn my head and take in those gorgeous hazel-green eyes staring at me with concern. She has her hair pulled back like usual. “How’s that going? Making some new friends?”

She rolls her eyes. “Pretending to.” She shrugs. “They do seem nice, though.”

“They’re great. I’m glad you don’t have to sit by yourself.”

“They’re a bit distracting, and I don’t need distractions.”

If she only knew how big a distraction she is to me right now, sitting there wearing my jersey. “Would you mind standing up a minute?”

She frowns at me. “Why?”

“You’ll laugh at me.”

“I already am.” A mix of humor and challenge flash in her eyes.

I’m seriously loving how she does that. “No, you’re not.”

Her expression turns smug. “Inside I am.”

“Why?”

She grins. “That was my question.”

I let out a chuckle, then regret it. A groan slips out before I can stop it. I clutch my side. “Take a little pity on me, please.”

“Fine.” She sighs, then stands.

I make a spinning motion with my hand, asking her to turn around.

She rolls her eyes again, then turns her back to me as she tugs her ponytail out of the way.

And there it is. My last name riding across the top of her shoulders like a declaration of possession. Maybe I should thank Jennings for busting my ribs because I don’t think I’d do a very good job keeping myself in check around Lily right now.

She glances over her shoulder at me. “Happy now?”

If only she knew the chaos she’s causing. We’re not technically a couple, but being together all the time is making it harder and harder to remember that. The line of separation is definitely blurring.

“Yes. Now I can survive the rest of the game.” I keep my humor and sarcasm at an even balance.

She spins back around. “You’re not honestly thinking of going back out there, are you?”

“As soon as the medic clears me.”

Speaking of whom, he walks over, carrying a tablet with X-ray images filling the screen. “Not happening, Pay. Can’t just tape you up for this one. You need to lie low for at least a few days, maybe longer. Then we’ll decide when you can resume playing.”

I groan again, but not out of pain.

Lily holds her hands out. “See? Worked out for the best.”

“How so?” She’s right, in a way. At least it’s an exhibition game. I should be fine in a couple of weeks when the season officially starts.

“You don’t have to deal with that brute anymore tonight.”

No. But I still have to navigate the tall beauty wearing my jersey as if she owned it.

Lily maneuvers me in and out of the car like a pro. Once inside my apartment, she helps me sit on the bed and then removes my shoes. Getting my shirt off doesn’t hurt nearly as much as I expected. Probably a combo of the rib strap the medic gave me and the painkillers working.

Letting Lily undress me like this feels…intimate. She’s caring and slow in her movements to cause me as little pain as possible. Thankfully, I had a pair of joggers in my locker that I could sleep in. Otherwise, that would be downright awkward.

After arranging several pillows, she helps me lie back on the bed. “Thanks.”

“No problem. I’ll go get you a glass of water in case you need to take another pill during the night.”

I close my eyes and listen to her movements in the kitchen. Luke won’t return for a while, so I’ll have to check the score on my phone or wait until morning. Between the exertion from the game and the painkiller, I’m floating in a very pleasant state of happy sleepiness.

She walks back in and sets a glass of water on the nightstand. “Let me know if you need anything else, okay? Doesn’t matter what time it is. I know how hard it is to navigate up and down with one of those.” She gestures to my midsection.

“You’ve experienced the joy of broken ribs?” I shift on the bed, trying to get my pillow in the right place, but wind up grunting like an angry pig.

“A few times.” She leans over to help me get more settled, engulfing me in her subtle scent of vanilla and musk. It’s maddening, honestly. She’s as fierce as they come, yet graceful and gorgeous enough to knock me completely off my game.

“Do tell.”

She perches gingerly on the edge of the bed. “Not that interesting.”

“Says you.” I grin, feeling more playful than usual. Must be the painkiller.

She laughs softly. “You should go to sleep, Payton. Your body needs rest to heal.”

When she gets up, I reach for her hand, flinching in the process. She leans in, relieving the tug on my side. Her ponytail falls forward with her motion, cascading across my arm like silk.

Our gazes sync. “Thank you.”

The lamp light reflects in her eyes, making them appear more green than hazel. “It’s no problem.”

“Is this normal?”

“Is what normal?”

“Do you wind up taking care of your injured principals ?”

She smiles at my use of her word for me. “Sometimes.”

“Is that how you broke your ribs?” I know I’m babbling, but I’m not ready to stop talking to her. Or to let her go.

She sits back down as she holds my hand. “Maybe.”

“NDA?”

“Yes.” She dips her head with her reply.

“Hmm.” I close my eyes, giving in to the drift. “Wish you could tell me more.”

She doesn’t say anything at first, but then her voice floats in, soft and with a tinge of regret. “I do, too.”

Did I imagine that? Does she feel the connection growing between us, or is that just a side-effect of the job? I want to open my eyes so I can read her expression, and see her gorgeous face, but I can’t seem to lift my eyelids anymore.

“You’re lovely.” I tighten my hold on her hand to emphasize my slurred words.

“Thank you,” she whispers and squeezes back.

I want to say more…so much more, but I’m falling fast into a deep sleep.

And into some serious feelings for my bodyguard.