Page 10 of Offside Play (Love The Game #1)
Cody
T he adrenaline was still coursing through me two hours after the final buzzer, my body thrumming from the high of our win.
I was fucking proud of the way we’d played tonight.
Everything had just clicked, and personally, I’d had one of the best games of my career, despite the time I’d spent in the sin bin and the stick I’d taken to the face.
Adjusting the ice pack I was currently holding over my taped-up nose with one hand, I reached for my phone, lifting it from the truck’s centre console.
I was still in the arena parking garage, wearing my fucking uncomfortable suit, thanks to the post-game meeting my agent had arranged with me to discuss what was going to happen after the playoffs.
Why he insisted on fucking formalwear every time we met, I had no idea.
And why he’d insisted on meeting right after the game— Okay.
Maybe I knew that. Maybe it was down to the fact I’d been avoiding all his calls and texts about my future.
But how could I think about that now, when I didn’t even know what was happening in my present?
At least I hadn’t been asked to do any interviews after the game.
Coach had taken one look at my face and shoved Brayden into the spotlight, where he’d mentioned how my assist had been integral to his goal, and I had to stand there with cameras trained on us both, counting down the seconds until I could leave.
All I’d been able to think about was the moment I’d looked up into the stands and seen Jude watching me.
I knew he was going to be there, but I thought I’d be able to block it out, like I did with the crowd noise. Instead, I’d been aware of him the entire game. When our eyes met for a brief moment, the look on his face made my heart stutter in my chest.
Pride. Want. Maybe even something more.
Stay away from me, Jude. The words I’d said to him seemed fucking laughable now. How was it possible when he looked at me like that? Like no one else ever had before?
My phone buzzed in my hand, and I exhaled sharply as the name of the man I couldn’t get out of my mind flashed up on my screen.
Jude:
You were amazing tonight. Are you celebrating at the team dinner?
My heart hammered as I stared at the message. What I should do was delete it and stick to the plan we’d agreed on in his car.
I knew what I should do.
Me:
No team dinner. I’m guessing you’re not there either if you’re asking me that question. I thought Brayden would’ve invited you
Jude:
He did, but I told him I was tired
Me:
Tired huh, British? Maybe you should go to bed
Jude:
Can’t sleep. I’m lonely. All alone in my hotel room
He added a sad-face emoji after his reply, and I snorted, shaking my head. We both knew where this was leading. My impulse control was non-existent when it came to this guy.
Me:
What hotel?
Even as I sent the message, I cursed myself.
This was exactly what we’d agreed not to do.
But sitting here in the parking garage, my nose aching and my body still buzzing from the game, I couldn’t bring myself to care.
I’d played one of the best games of my life, and the only person I wanted to celebrate with was the one person I was supposed to stay away from.
The second he replied with the details of his hotel, I programmed the address into my GPS and left the arena behind.
The drive through downtown Calgary took me eleven minutes.
Eleven minutes of me telling myself this was a mistake, that I was risking everything for a hook-up with the twenty-one-year-old brother of my teammate, who lived a continent away, and who would be gone in a few weeks.
Eleven minutes of telling myself all of that but not giving enough of a shit to stop myself.
After parking in the far corner of the hotel’s underground garage, where my truck would be less likely to be noticed, I tugged on a zip-up hoodie over my suit jacket and then made my way to the elevator.
I pulled the hood up and kept my head down, grateful for the late hour and the mostly empty lobby.
The last thing I needed was a fan or journalist spotting me and asking questions about why I was here.
When I reached Jude’s floor, I glanced down the hallway to make sure it was empty before I made my way to his room and knocked softly.
The door opened almost immediately, like he’d been waiting by it.
He stood there, barefoot, in navy sweatpants and a faded grey T-shirt, his hair mussed up like he’d been running his hands through it.
When our eyes met, he smiled, and my heart skipped a beat. “Hi,” he said, moving aside to let me in.
“Hi.” I quickly stepped inside, closing and locking the door behind me.
Jude’s suite was expansive and ornate, with large windows that gave a panoramic view of the city. But I barely registered any of it because he was standing close enough that I could see tiny flecks of gold in his green eyes, his small smile widening into a large, dimpled one as he took me in.
Fuck . I exhaled shakily. This man had an effect on me I’d never experienced before, and I had no idea how to handle it. Taking a step away, I shrugged off my hoodie, draping it over the back of a nearby chair to give my hands something to do while I attempted to regain my fraying composure.
When I straightened back up again, his smile had disappeared, and he was studying me with his brows pulled together. His gaze scanned the bruising around the bridge of my nose where it had been taped. “How’s your nose? Does it hurt?”
“It’s fine. Just bruising. It looks worse than it is.”
He lifted his hand to my face before thinking better of it. Shaking his head, he huffed out a breath. “Watching you take that hit… I can’t believe you got back on the ice so fast.”
“Couldn’t let the team down. Not in a game like that.” I moved closer again, helpless to stop myself, drawn by the way he was looking at me like I mattered. “It was all worth it to get the win.”
“Yeah. It was.” He was quiet for a moment, a faraway expression on his face, before he swallowed, his throat working. “Cody?”
“Yeah?”
“What are you doing here?”
Our gazes met and held.
“I have no fucking idea,” I said, cupping his face in my hands, and then I kissed him.
He melted into me immediately, his fingers working their way beneath my suit jacket as he kissed me back.
I noticed the way he carefully angled his head to avoid his nose bumping against mine, and something inside me warmed, something that was deeper than the lust I felt for him.
But I didn’t have time to examine it, caught up in the soft sound he made when I deepened the kiss.
It went straight to my dick, rock-hard and straining at my dress pants as I pulled him even closer, fucking loving the way his body fit against mine like it belonged there.
“Bed,” I growled against his mouth, and he moaned, moving us through the suite towards the huge bed. Before we reached it, he stopped and drew back, panting, his cheeks flushed and his lips swollen from my kisses.
“Are you sure about this? If we do this, I’m not gonna be able to go back to pretending there’s nothing between us.”
There was nothing that could have stopped me now, unless he told me he wasn’t willing to take things any further. “Yes, I’m fucking sure. Are you?”
His hands ran up my back to my shoulders, and he slid my jacket off, throwing it onto a chair. Angling his head forwards, he brushed his lips over mine, punctuating his words with kisses. “Very. Fucking. Sure.”