Page 4 of Pucking Tangled

FOUR

Mia

Mia padded down the stairs in her socks, her hair twisted up in a messy bun and her hoodie sleeves tugged down over her hands. The house was quiet, a stark contrast from the night before, one that made the creak of floorboards on the steps louder than she expected.

At the bottom of the steps, she paused and prepared herself for the worst. She expected solo cups and beer bottles littering the counters. Pizza boxes and food trash piled up, and passed out hockey players everywhere.

But that wasn’t the case at all.

There were only two other players in sight. One snoring on the couch, the other asleep on the floor in front of the fireplace.

The house was spotless. Counters were wiped down. No sign of trash anywhere. The faint smell of Lysol and coffee lingered in the once stale air from the night before.

“Hm. That’s interesting. ”

She tiptoed further into the kitchen, scanning for any signs of life.

A fresh pot of coffee and a clean mug waited for her like a silent invitation. Or an apology for all the noise last night. She wasn’t sure which.

Her brows lifted in surprise. There was even a sticky note.

For our law school roomie. - O

She plucked the note off the coffee maker, unable to fight the smile that tugged at the corner of her mouth. Mia poured herself a cup and leaned against the counter, cradling it in both hands.

Of course, it was Owen who’d left it out for her. Mr. Responsible. Captain of everything. He was the kind of guy who probably made his bed before games and always folded his laundry as soon as it came out of the dryer.

She liked that about him. He was a steady presence in Casey’s life. Kept him grounded, but didn’t try to hold him back either.

Still... this? This quiet, considerate kind of care? It surprised her, probably more than it should.

Sipping her coffee, she glanced out the back slider. The pool and the grass both seemed to glitter in the sunlight. Three little birds played in the bird bath under a shade tree in the far corner of the yard, like their day was just getting started.

In the moment, it felt like everything was suspended in time. Caught between the chaos of the night before and the stillness of a brand-new day.

Her mind flickered back to Luca.

The soft and sweet way he said her name.

The bashful way he shared his hobbies.

And the way he didn’t push her for anything. He didn’t flirt or make things awkward.

He was just there. Easy. Quiet and a steady beacon in the night.

She blew on her coffee and took another sip, heart tapping a little faster now.

Yeah. She’d definitely noticed him.

And maybe, just maybe, she was kind of hoping he’d be the one to walk through the kitchen next.

She was halfway through her second cup of coffee before anyone joined her.

Sitting at the kitchen table with her legs curled underneath of her, she heard the slider open.

Waylon stepped inside, shirtless and with his shorts slung low on his hips. His hair was a mess, like he or a woman had been running their hands through it all night long. He looked like he just rolled out of bed—or maybe he never even made it to one.

When his gaze landed on her, he blinked. “Hey, Blondie,” he said, his voice raspy. “I should have guessed you were a morning person.

She grinned over the rim of her mug. “I’m a coffee person. Let’s not get the two confused.”

He chuckled and nodded in agreement as he made his way to the counter and pulled out a blue Lakehead Thunderwolves mug. He poured the still-warm coffee into his cup and added a splash of almond milk, not speaking again until after his first sip.

“You missed one hell of a party last night. You didn’t even have to call the cops.”

“I considered it,” she snorted. “But I didn’t want to get evicted. ”

He smirked.

“Has that happened before?”

“The cops showing up?” Waylon shook his head. “Nah. Owen would never let us get that out of hand.”

He leaned against the counter, his mug cradled in both of his hands like it was a lifeline.

In the soft morning light he looked a lot less like the cocky bruiser who shouldered a guy into the boards in last night’s game and more like a cuddly grizzly bear ready to hibernate, minus all the fur of course.

“Are you a morning person?” She refused to ask what she really wanted to know, if he’d ever gone to bed.

Waylon shrugged. “What’s the saying? ‘Old habits die hard.’ My dad’s been waking me up at 5 am ever since I started playing junior league hockey. Morning workout, then he had me out on the ice by the time the sun came up, every day.”

“That does not sound like fun.”

He gave her a half smile. “It got me where I am today.”

“Was your dad a coach or something?”

“Former hockey player with NHL dreams. They got cut short when he met my mom and I came along.” His face fell like he was reliving a sour memory. “I wasn’t part of the plan. Then I became the plan.” Waylon shook his head and downed the rest of his coffee. “Anyway. You settling in okay?”

Interesting. She couldn’t tell what he meant by the plan but she sensed the tiniest hint of resentment in his voice.

“It’s a little chaotic, that’s for sure. It’ll take some getting used to, no doubt,” Mia nodded in response.

For the first time since they met, they were actually having a real conversation with each other. It was refreshing and intriguing, uncovering the man behind the flirty banter and cocky attitude.

“If you’re ever looking for an escape, the detached garage is pretty much off-limits.”

“Ooo. Is that where you all hide the fancy cars and fast motorcycles?”

“No,” he replied a little too quickly.

“Are you going to tell me why it’s off-limits? Casey never mentioned anything about this.” It didn’t really matter to her. She could park in the driveway like everyone else. But Waylon’s limitations sparked her curiosity.

Mia gasped. “Wait. Is that where you hide from your responsibilities and store all your emotional baggage?”

“Emotional baggage?” Waylon snorted. “For a minute there, I was beginning to think you were not nearly as uptight as I initially thought.”

Ah. Now that felt much better. The universe was returning to normal and they were back on solid ground with one another. Bantering and picking on each other.

“Me? Uptight?”

“All lawyers are uptight, Mia Abbott. Especially the ones who move in across the hall.”

Waylon set his empty coffee mug in the sink and headed for the stairs.

“You know, Waylon, you don’t have to try so hard to pretend to be an asshole. You can let people in once in a while,” she said as he continued to walk away.