Page 11 of The Sweet Spot (Kodiaks Hockey #3)

Chapter Eleven

Wolseley

I had no idea why I’d reacted that way when Brandon reached out to touch me. He was being nice, and I’d reacted as if his touch had been radioactive, mostly because it sort of had been. It felt like an electric shock traveling through my body. For a split second, I was questioning everything about my life. Maybe I shouldn’t have taken the job because I now had a massive crush on Brandon Warde, and in no universe was that going to lead to a happy ending. Brandon chased the Tangis of the world, not the Wolseleys.

I hated getting down on myself, and I was the first one to champion women’s empowerment and self-love, but I had no self-love for myself. Of our three-woman crew of BFFs, Tangi was the sporty and gorgeous one, Jill was the cool, hot chick every guy wanted to conquer, and I was their friend. The one who hung around with them, the perfect female friend for any guy. Sometimes, I got the “cute” moniker, but anywhere men had pulses, they would take Jill or Tangi over me. How many times had we hung out, and guys had hit on them and barely noticed I was there? Too many to count. And Brandon would be no exception, especially after the way he felt about Tangi. Who was I kidding? I attracted assholes like Daniel. Guys who smelled desperation or wanted a good time. They viewed me as fun, the last girl at the bar to get picked up, but “I’d do.” Every one of my relationships had either been short, a disaster, or based on sex. And all the guys I wanted the most wanted Jill or Tangi instead.

These thoughts kept me up until late into the night, and at the end of the day, I had two options: accept that my crush would be unrequited and do my damn job, or quit and try to find another job. While I showered and changed and headed out the door for Brandon’s place the next morning, I chose option number one because I needed the damn job, and I’d worked with men I’d had massive crushes on before. Why would this be any different?

Brandon gave me a key so I could come and go easily. Every time I let myself in, I’d announce that I was there if his bedroom door was open, just in case he was doing something he didn’t want me to see. Otherwise, I would start on my day as quietly as possible while he slept. I was about to go through my same routine today, but he was already awake and scrolling through his phone on the sofa. His dark brown hair was wet, and his cologne or bodywash left an intoxicating scent in his wake, as if it were wrapping me up in a warm woodsy-scented blanket.

“Hey,” I said as cheerfully as possible. “I hope you weren’t waiting for breakfast?”

“No,” he said with a smile. “Just got up and showered. Today will be a lighter day. Lots of meetings with my coach and teammates.”

“Let me get breakfast started.”

“I made coffee. Help yourself,” he called out after me.

Step one of working while crushing was done. I’d said hello, and there was no awkwardness from the previous night. Step two was to just forget about it, and since it was a light day, I made him a hearty breakfast of eggs, turkey bacon, whole grain toast, and a fruit salad. He didn’t need lunch today, so I’d spend the rest of the morning doing groceries, prepping more snacks, including my protein Snicker-like bars, and then making him a heavy-carb dinner. Pasta was on the menu, along with a fish I hadn’t yet chosen.

I poured myself coffee and got to work. As the bacon cooked, I made a grocery list and wondered if he liked bagels. I’d ask him because I had a kick-ass recipe that wasn’t as heavy as the usual bagels. My meal plan included four days of meat-based proteins a week, with plant-based proteins the rest of the week. He’d also requested more carbs, so I planned to incorporate those into dinners.

“Breakfast is ready,” I said, plating his over-easy eggs, turkey bacon, toast with coconut butter, and fruit salad. I put a carrot protein muffin on the side in case he was still hungry. I was packing his snack pack for training camp when he took his plate from me and sat at the kitchen island to eat.

“Need anything else? I have more bacon and can make more eggs and toast.”

“This is good,” he said.

As he ate, I scrolled through my list, making sure it was complete. I was sipping coffee and adding more items to it when he threw a question at me that nearly toppled me over.

“About yesterday, sorry about that. I shouldn’t have touched you without asking. That was out of bounds. And the way you reacted to it, I’m sorry about that too. Has a man been inappropriate with you?”

The pen in my hand made a scribble when I gasped. “Excuse me, what? ”

“I’m trying to be delicate and not rude, but has someone hit you? You know, been physically abusive?”

His blue eyes stared at me intently, and I didn’t know what to make of what was happening. “No,” I managed to finally utter. He’d made quite the leap from what had happened the night before.

“It’s just the way you reacted. Usually, it’s because a person doesn’t want to be touched.”

Since he had crossed so many lines with his questions and comments, I figured I could do the same, not out of malice but more out of curiosity. “Have you been abused? I’m not understanding where that came from. Usually, when someone says something like that, it’s based on experience.”

He and I were doing some kind of strange dance, trying to figure out who had what experience. Was he concerned for me because suddenly I was concerned for him? I’d heard about athletes being abused emotionally, physically, and sexually by coaches and other people of authority. Was Brandon a victim?

“It’s just that after you left, I did some googling, and that came up a few times. Then I worried I’d been inappropriate, so I wanted to assure you I wouldn’t ever touch you again like that.”

I pursed my lips. On so many levels, everything he’d said was so damn wrong. But I also noted that he hadn’t answered my question.

I shook my head and tried not to laugh. This whole thing was preposterous. “It’s nothing like that. You startled me. And if I’m honest, we’d had a conversation that hit close to home, and I was out of sorts. Let me assure you, I’m fine, and you can touch me if you want.”

Oof. That came out wrong, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“Okay, I’m happy about that. Again, I should apologize for being nosy. ”

I waved my hand dismissively. “No more apologies. I have a better idea. Let’s forget it?”

“Excellent idea.”

He finished his plate, had a few more slices of bacon, grabbed some snacks, and was out the door. I ran it all through my head as I cleaned up and headed out for groceries. As I filled my cart, I couldn’t help but notice that Brandon and I shared one quality: we were both a little socially awkward. Maybe it wasn’t obvious, but the way he went about asking questions and making bold statements was almost childlike as if he’d forgotten social graces. Maybe that quality was what upset his teammates.

After I’d gotten back and put away all the groceries, I sat at his island and mapped out more meal plans. I didn’t want to repeat too many of the same meals, and tonight’s pasta would be simple. The sauce would be sautéed garlic in olive oil. A simple sauce that tasted amazing. The pasta would have marinated artichokes, kalamata, tomatoes, Parmesan, and a touch of sharp cheddar. The fish would be baked in butter and olive oil and tons of fresh herbs. He'd have some steamed vegetables with simple seasonings, and the best part was that the vegetables and pasta could be eaten cold the next day or even later at night, and they would taste just as good.

I’d be lying if I said I couldn’t wait for him to get home. I was the seventeen-year-old version of me all over again when one of the hottest guys in high school was my chemistry partner. Jay Mitchelson was tall with blond hair that routinely fell into his face. He had the biggest blue eyes, and worst of all, he was nice. Not once did he rely on me to get us through the class. We worked hard, and he always said hi to me in the hall. I was also totally in love with him, but, of course, he was too busy chasing after Tangi. By then, she’d already been dating Ethan, but that hadn’t stopped him. He was the star of the football team, and she was the star of every team she was on. He’d even asked me to help him land a date with her. I’d been crushed. Once again, I was the “friend.”

Here, history was repeating itself, except Brandon had no choice but to give up on Tangi now that she was married.

My heart skipped when I heard Brandon come through the door. He popped his head into the kitchen to say hello and said he’d be ready for dinner whenever I was ready. I told him I needed fifteen minutes.

When he sat down to eat, he looked a different kind of tired. More mentally than physically?

“Long day?” I asked.

“A lot of watching videos and meeting with coaches. How many videos can you watch in one day? We had a light practice, but right now, I want to eat and zone out.”

“I have dinner ready for you.”

While he devoured his meal, I gave him a new list of foods and asked him to check off any he absolutely hated and others he preferred not to have. The only item he checked off was tilapia.

“Tilapia is farmed,” he said. “I like it but prefer not to eat it. I hate salmon.”

“Fair points. I should have known that myself about tilapia. I can’t believe I’ve included it on the list. My bad. Have I ever told you about bottom-feeders?”

He looked at me and squinted. “I don’t think I have the capacity to concentrate on what you are about to tell me, so let me guess: They live at the bottom of water and eat what’s there, which could be potentially harmful. So I should avoid eating those kinds of fish in larger quantities, and tilapia, when not farmed, is a bottom-feeder?”

“Pretty close,” I said, impressed. “There is an argument about whether tilapia is a bottom-feeder. People get passionate about this.”

He stopped eating and furrowed his brows. “Passionate? Really? Do they have physical altercations about it?”

All right, he was mocking me. “I see you can’t appreciate the controversy.”

He laughed out loud, and I know he didn’t mean it because he seemed shocked by his own actions. “I’m sorry. It is funny, but I shouldn’t have laughed. I do hope these two warring sides will come together to settle their differences and that no innocent tilapia get hurt in the process.”

I bit back my own laughter to the point my eyes started watering. I hadn’t seen much of his funny side—with a healthy dose of sarcasm—but I liked it.

“The whole debate is rather fishy,” I said, and he laughed again. Harder than he should have because the joke wasn’t that funny.

As he took a second helping of pasta, after telling me a few times how amazing it was and still chuckling about the tilapia wars, he lodged into questions again because it ended so well the last time. I guess he was feeling comfortable.

“How long have you been a vegetarian?”

“Years,” I said, cleaning up my dirty pots and pans.

“No,” he said.

“No?” I was confused.

“No cleaning. Sit down and have some pasta with me. You can clean after. I’ll help you with it.”

Now, I was baffled. “I don’t want to leave a mess, and it’s my job to clean.”

“As your boss, I demand you eat and let me help with dishes.”

“All right, boss.” I plated some pasta and vegetables and took a seat next to him. He turned a little, and so did I, so we could better chat.

“Why did you become a vegetarian?”

“I don’t want to eat animals.”

He nodded. “Good answer. Do you find it hard to cook meat?”

“I don’t give it much thought because I’m not going to judge people. If they like to consume meat, that’s their choice. I try to season it in ways I’d season plant-based foods. I make the best lentil burgers. I thought you’d have them later this week. I also make amazing fries with sesame seeds. I think you’d like those too.”

“I look forward to it.”

He said all the right things, and it made my heart soar a little, but deep down, I knew we were only ever going to be friends, and that’s the way it had to be because not only was I his employee, but I couldn’t allow my heart to be hurt once again.

We finished eating, he helped me with the dishes, and as I packed up to go home, a piece of me realized how much I loved working for him and how much I missed him each time I left.