Page 13 of Let It Be Me

13

SARAH

T he music floats out of the surround-sound speakers of the studio. Flashing lights from the photographer's camera flicker in my peripheral. Nate is finally in town from his stretch of road games and today was the only day to get his brand shoots done. Since he’s on the more shy side, he asked me to join him. As I also help him get photos for his social media team, I take some behind the scenes photos and videos.

They wrap an hour later and I watch as Nate slowly dims.

“Are you okay, buddy?” I ask when he drops in the chair next to me and I pass him his shirt.

“Yeah. Just ready to be home.” His point is emphasized with a massive yawn while he shrugs on the shirt I handed him.

“Oh, come on. You’re supposed to be the life of the party. Not ready to rot on the couch.” I tell him as I hand him his jacket next.

He gives me a pointed look and I bite back a laugh. He’s never been like that and I love teasing him for it .

Nate stays with me as I pack up my things before I’m off to Columbus for a few days to get the lay of the land. But I won’t deny that my heart jumps at being in the same city as Riley for a few days. Stop that, Sarah.

We part ways in the parking lot and I check my phone again before getting on the road. I know Columbus is over an hour, but for some reason the anticipation is killing me.

Riley: Hey, boss lady.

Riley: What time are you headed here?

Me: Boss lady? I expect that as a nameplate.

Me: I’m headed there now. My hotel is ready for check-in.

My phone rings with a call from Riley.

“What’s wrong with texting?” I ask in lieu of a greeting.

“What hotel are you staying at?”

I pull my phone away and pull up the email. “Hotel LaRoux. Why?”

“No reason,” he says. “I’ll see you soon.”

He hangs up before I can respond. “Stupid, arrogant, young hockey player.” I mutter to myself and start up my car.

Getting out of the city on a Wednesday is easier said than done. I hit construction traffic and then get stopped at every traffic light. But finally, after two song lengths I’m on the way up north.

“What do you mean you have no record of my room?” I ask the concierge. I try not to come off too angry as he’s just doing his job. But, seriously? I have my confirmation email on my phone.

“I’m sorry, miss. I’d book you another room, but with all of our sports teams playing this weekend, we’re completely booked.”

If he was lying I would know. But unfortunately he’s not as I checked the schedule for this weekend so I knew what I was getting into which is why I booked my room so far in advance. “Okay. Thank you, though.”

I do the walk of shame back to my car with my suitcase in tow. Pulling up my phone I do a quick search of any hotel with availability for the rest of the week. Nothing within twenty miles.

“Why the long face?” A voice asks in front of me.

I stop and drop my head back, groaning loudly. “Did you do this?”

“Now what kind of boyfriend would that make me if I made my girlfriend stay in a hotel when I have a perfectly good condo you could sleep at?” Riley asks as he invades my space bringing his familiar cedar wood and leather scent mixed with what smells like sweat.

I right my posture and come face to face with the blond devil himself. “The fake kind.”

“No fun in that. Now let’s go.” He says and takes my suitcase from my hand before moving towards my car. It’s then I notice him in workout clothes with a light sheen of sweat covering his body.

“Where’s your car?” I ask even though I already know the answer.

Riley looks over his shoulder at me with a devilish grin. He taps the trunk of my car, motioning for me to pop the trunk. With an annoyed breath, I do what he wants and wait for what’s next. Riley rounds the car to the passenger side and nods at me, waiting for me to join him on that side.

“I’ll drive,” he says as I make my way over to him as he opens the door and holds his hand out for the keys.

“You’re like an overeager puppy.” I tell him as I drop them in his hand and slide into the passenger seat.

“You love it.” He leaves me with a smile as he closes the door and rounds the car to the driver's seat. I watch in amusement as he squeezes into the seat and moves it back.

I don’t admit to myself that I like someone taking charge.

I don’t admit that Riley showing more effort than Paul is something I like.

I don’t admit.

I don’t admit.

I. Don’t. Admit.

Riley effortlessly backs my car out of the spot and pulls onto the main road. I try to memorize landmarks but everything blurs as he navigates the streets with ease. I revel in not having to think for the first time ever and the next thing I know, we’re slowing down and turning into a parking garage. My head turns in Riley’s direction but he firmly ignores my look.

I open my mouth multiple times to ask where we’re at, but I use my brain and deduce that we’re at his place. He pulls into a spot next to his behemoth of a Range Rover and silence falls over us as he parks and turns my car off.

“Home sweet home.” He announces and slides out of the car without waiting for my snarky retort.

I’m slower to get out as my senses are all out of whack. But when I do, I see Riley waiting impatiently with my suitcase.

“Yes?” I ask .

He holds his hands up in front of him as his only response and I suspect it’s to hold his tongue. Riley walks towards the elevator bank and I can’t help but follow closely behind. The elevator opens instantly and we file in. Taking up opposite sides of the car, I can’t help but flashback to our first time in an elevator.

“So what’s the plan for this week?” I ask Riley as the elevator rolls up. It’s also to hopefully distract my mind from us and elevators.

“Well, we have our first preseason game tomorrow evening. I usually hang out at home before heading to the arena. But you’re free to explore the area.” Riley tells me as the elevator stops on his floor.

“I might stick around here so I don’t get lost.”

“Okay. If you want, I can be your tour guide the day after,” Riley assures me.

I smile at his back as he opens the door to his place. “Thanks,” I tell him as he holds the door open for me. The high ceilings and open living room greets me as I walk out of the foyer. “Wow. This space is incredible.” Movement out of the corner of my eye surprises me. “Oh, hello,” I say and squat down.

“That’s Sasha,” Riley tells me as she comes to sniff my fingers.

She nudges her snout under my fingers and demands pets. Her white coat is freshly brushed and she looks up at me with the bluest of blue eyes. “Can I pick her up?”

“Mm-hmm.”

I put my hands around her body and rise with her in my arms. She’s a lot lighter than I thought and her purr-box is immediate when she’s in my arms. Kamryn and Emily’s cats are the only ones I’ve been around and I adore them but I’ve never been able to commit to adopting a cat of my own. I stick my nose in her neck and walk forward with Riley trailing behind. His living room opens to a view of downtown slowly coming to life. A big dark blue sectional takes up most of the space but it’s not overwhelming. He has throw blankets and pillows in a variety of neutrals that add warmth to the big room with a huge flat screen TV taking up the opposite wall. It’s not what I expected from him but surprisingly this space fits who he is. Or what I know of him at least

Riley sets my suitcase and weekender bag by the TV. The sound of my luggage brings my attention to Riley. His gaze is unfocused yet focused on me at the same time.

“What?” I ask when his gaze starts to make me squirm. I place a kiss on Sasha’s head and set her on the couch.

He shakes his head and heads into the kitchen. Which is even more impressive considering he’s in a condo. A huge black marble island separates the space, a stainless steel french door refrigerator with a matching stove and microwave complete the set and beckon to be used. The warm wood cabinets give the space a masculine and homey feeling. Off to the right I see a dining table big enough to fit eight sat on top of a dark blue and maroon area rug.

“Riley, your place is stunning.”

“Thank you. I don’t have the biggest eye for design. So with the help of my interior designer and my Momma, we got this place up and running in under a year.” He tells me as he slides a glass of ice water to me.

“Thanks.” I take a sip of water to cool myself down. Why is it so awkward with him? Work mode , I tell myself because it’s my safe zone. “So I started your website.”

His eyebrows fly to his hairline. “Already? I thought these took months to do.”

“You were easy.” I say as I move to my bag and pull out my laptop. I walk back over to the island and stand at the end.

“My new slogan,” Riley jokes and stands to the side me at the island. I take him through what I did and how I did it. Some may think it’s not necessary for a hockey player to have a website. But when his career is done, Riley and his fans will have some place to look at that highlights his career. It’s also a great reference point for if he ever decides to do camps.

“Do you like it?” I ask and turn my head to look up at him now completely terrified that he’s going to reject the whole thing.

“It’s really good. At first I was skeptical. Because why does a hockey player need a website? But I like it.”

I turn my head back to my laptop and bite my lip to hide my smile. I don’t admit that I need praise for my work. But growing up as an only child, it paved my need for some type of acknowledgment.

“Good.” I tell him and shut my laptop. “What do you normally do before games? I mean, I know this isn’t an official season game, so I’m not sure how your routine works.”

“Am I the first hockey player you’re working with?” He asks as he backs up, realizing we’re a bit closer than we should be.

“Yeah,” I say, a little shy and look over at Riley.

His soft smile brings heat to my cheeks. “How about I make us dinner and I’ll give you a crash course on the sport.”

“Okay.”

Riley pushes off from the island and moves towards the fridge. “You’re not allergic to anything?”

“Nope,” I pop the p and see him turn back to the fridge, but not before seeing his cheeks lift with a smile. While he busies himself with fixing our dinner, I slide off the barstool and move to my suitcase for a change of clothes. When suddenly it dawns on me so I turn back to face the man who canceled my room. “Hey, Riley? Where am I sleeping?”

The blond behemoth purposefully refuses to turn around in a timely manner. But I’m used to waiting. So that’s what I do. With my hip popped and my arms crossed, I wait for Riley to turn around. When I see he can no longer fake being busy, I brace myself for whatever excuse he’s planning to sell me as he turns to face me.

“You see,” he starts and I can actually see the thoughts forming in his head. “I have two rooms. But the second is unfurnished and has the cats litter boxes and other things for them in there.”

“Are you saying you have a dedicated full room for your cats?” I squint my eyes at him and before I can rationalize anything normal, I beeline to the other room. Ignoring Riley’s protests behind me, I push the door open and come to a screeching stop at the threshold. Riley slams into me from behind and steadies me with a hand on my waist.

“I’d say I could explain myself, but this is explanation enough.” Riley fails to adequately explain.

It’s like Petsmart threw up in here. Two dog beds raised on platforms, cat towers on either side of the beds and in the middle, toys everywhere, and scratch posts spread out with some running up the walls.

“I don’t know if I should laugh or cry,” I breathe out.

“Laugh, please.” Riley tells me.

I finally turn and face him. He’s got Sasha on his shoulder and it’s too cute that I can no longer be horrified by the room that I’m in. “Okay, if this is their room then where do I sleep?”

Riley exaggeratedly sniffs the air and all but sprints out of the room. “Oh no, I need to go check the food and make sure it doesn’t burn.”

“Riley Theodore Jones!” I call after him. “Please tell me I’m not sleeping in your bed.” Sasha joins her sibling on the couch and I do a double take. The eyes of the Maine Coon follow my every move as if I’m about to strike her owner. I turn my focus to the mountain of a man who’s at the stove ignoring me.

“If you were my real girlfriend you’d sleep in my bed anyways,” Riley says like it’s a matter-of-fact thing. Which to be fair, if I was his girlfriend I’d be in his bed.

“Well, I’m not.” I stomp my foot.

Riley turns his head towards me, amusement taking over every inch of his face. “Did you just stomp your foot?”

“I did.”

“Brat.”

I raise a perfectly shaped brow at him.

He sighs and holds his hands out in front of him. Which he tends to do a lot around me. “You can make a pillow barrier if you’re worried about not being able to control yourself in a bed with me.”

“Asshole,” I mutter and zip my suitcase back up and roll it into his room. In my ire, the second I step into his room my shock level keeps growing. Bad reputation or not, Riley has a cozy bedroom. I take a look at his nightstands and choose to set up camp at the empty looking one, deciding this will be the side that I sleep on. Taking my lounge clothes out of my suitcase, which just consists of shorts and an oversized sweatshirt, I head into the bathroom to change.

“It’s so hard to be mad at him with a bathroom like this,” I say aloud.

Riley playing schemer has made the lines blurry. I know he knows what he was doing. He has mischief written all over his persona. I’ll show him who’s the one who can’t control themselves. If he wants us to play house, then he just met his match.