Page 26 of The Sweet Spot (Kodiaks Hockey #3)

Chapter Twenty-Six

Brandon

I couldn’t remember the last time a woman had spent the night here. Wolseley sleeping in the spare room didn’t count. Maybe it was two years ago? The last time I’d had sex was last summer. A bad decision to hook up with an ex. Lauren and I had broken up on good terms—something I seemed good at doing, unlike sticking out the relationship—and we always made the bad choice of hooking up every summer. Thankfully, it never led to anything more.

But Wolseley was different. She was like the mid-century colorful glass pieces my mother collected, except that Wolseley was the rarest of them all. One of a kind. She was colorful, kind, funny, awkward, beautiful, and had a heart of gold. And we made an amazing team. I tried not to think of the night before, the mind-blowing sex, or how she surprised me in the shower this morning with the best blow job I’d ever had. My cock twitched at the thought of it. She didn’t need to tell me, but she explained how she’d learned her technique on a trip to France to apprentice with a chef in Nice for a month. She didn’t go into all the details, but she’d hooked up with a fellow chef, and the two had experimented together. I think she thought I was judging her while I listened, but I was more enthralled by all her lived experiences, and I told her that. I wanted Wolseley to be reassured.

I closed my eyes and thought of my parents. They’d hate her. They’d hate that she wasn’t a conformist, that she had pink hair, that she didn’t eat meat or share their political views. Well, fuck them. I’d spent years being under my father’s thumb and doing what I was told. But something about Wolseley woke me up. I was done doing things to please my father. I still smiled every time I thought of the barrage of nasty texts he’d sent me when he’d heard and seen the drag show pics. But did I want to put Wolseley through even one second of my father? Maybe I could get her to go back to Minnesota for the holidays and avoid them entirely. Or maybe I’d just tell her the truth and let her make her own decision.

I wiped away thoughts of my father. He had ruined enough of my days, and today wasn’t going to be another. I had to get up early because it was a game day. Wolseley had already gotten out of bed to start breakfast, even though I protested with her to give us a few more minutes, but who was I kidding? I’d be all over her and those gorgeous breasts of hers. So she got up and left me alone, and that was a bad idea. The last thing I wanted to do was think anymore.

I wandered into the kitchen and grabbed some coffee. Wolseley was humming an unfamiliar tune, working on breakfast for me and Ryan. In the few weeks she’d been working for him, he looked great. He’d lost more weight and didn’t have that pasty, bloated look about him. More than a few times, he’d thanked me for all my help, though I really hadn’t done much.

“Morning,” I said, kissing her cheek.

“Do you think Delia is going to know I stayed here last night? I don’t want her to get the wrong impression. ”

Wolseley worried about the strangest things.

“How would she know that? And why would you care what impression she gets?”

“I don’t know. My brain is in overdrive. I’m already on my third cup of coffee.”

I raised a brow. “That makes sense, then.”

“The second she brings Ryan his breakfast, I have to go home and change. I feel like she’s going to know.”

“I think you’re worrying about nothing,” I said, taking her coffee away. The last thing she needed was more caffeine. “But if you do go home, you should bring some clothes here. You know, just in case you need them. I’m sure I can find you an empty drawer somewhere.”

I tried to say it casually, but by the way, her big brown eyes were staring at me, I’d failed miserably.

“Oh,” was all she mustered.

“I freaked you out. Let me try that again. You spend a lot of time here, and you’ll probably be spending more. I’m not asking you to move in. Just keep some extra stuff for a rainy day. Is that better?”

She blew out a relieved breath. “Yeah, much better.”

She got back to work on breakfast, and when she set my food in front of me, she started on a new subject.

“Thanksgiving is less than two weeks away, and I thought we’d celebrate it at my condo and invite along Tangi and Ethan, Jill and Jeremy? I thought I might ask Delia and Ryan as well if they don’t have plans. Any objections?”

“Thanksgiving was in October.”

“American Thanksgiving.”

I was just playing with her, and when I chuckled, she slapped my arm. “No big deal for me,” I said, although spending extended periods of time with Ethan outside of the Kodiaks wasn’t on my to-do list .

“Good. I’m looking forward to it.”

As I ate, she fired off a text. She even created a group chat because I got the text too. It was sad to say, but I’d never been the type to attract a lot of friends. I had a few friends back home I trusted, and a few guys on the team I occasionally hung out with, but I kept my circle small. It went back to my early hockey days, when my dad managed to piss off the parents of all my potential friends, giving them critiques they didn’t ask for. I was well aware, even as a kid, that everyone hated him. So instead of making tons of friends, I spent incredible amounts of time honing my skills and keeping to myself. Dad enrolled me in every hockey camp he could all summer long, and I didn’t mind it. It wasn’t like I had a ton of friends to hang out with like the other people my age, so it kept me busy and away from him.

Hanging out with Wolseley had been an eye-opening experience. Everyone loved her. Everywhere she went, people remembered her, wanted to talk to her, invite her to things. I was pretty sure that if she’d had more free time, she’d be scoping out Vancouver with all her friends. That didn’t even include Tangi and Jill. I wanted a piece of that, and just by being included in her group chat, I had a bit of it, and it made my insides warm. Maybe being alone for so long, keeping everything to myself, controlling every aspect of my life while trying not to think too hard about it, hadn’t been the best way to cope.

“If Delia comes, I may ask her to help with the turkey. The thought of prepping it gives me the creeps,” Wolseley said more to herself than me. “A headless creature that gave up its life because someone decided one day that turkeys should be associated with Thanksgiving. I can’t even bring myself to stuff one. It’s all so gross.”

At least she didn’t judge me when I ate meat. Or, at least, I didn’t think so .

She pulled out her notebook and began scribbling things down. Delia showed up moments later to grab Ryan’s breakfast. They had a quick conversation that I didn’t stick around for. I needed to get to the rink.

Coach Anthony had us go through a shorter practice, which I appreciated, but then we got a pep talk about our losing streak. I could see some of the guys weren’t paying attention, and I made a mental note of it. Once guys started disrespecting the coach, it was a downhill slide, and we couldn’t let that happen. We were a good team that could easily make a run in the playoffs, but if we let the bad apples infect the room, we were done.

As I got ready to leave the rink, I checked my phone. I ignored the text from Dad, asking about the losing streak and if Coach Anthony needed to be fired. I then opened the group chat to see a slew of messages. Everyone had accepted Wolseley’s dinner invitation, even Delia and Ryan. I realized I hadn’t replied, so I sent along my RSVP. I put my phone back in my pocket and smiled. Wolseley was the best thing that had ever happened to me. But I had one huge worry, the same worry I had every time a woman came into my life, and it was how my parents were either going to drive her away or bully me into breaking up with her. This time, I was determined that neither would happen.