Page 111 of Interference

“Yeah?”

Another nod. “It was like, okay, I’m free, so now I’m going to go do all the things I couldn’t do with him. And getting drilled into the mattress was very high on that list.”

I laughed. “Oh, I’ve done that. Get out of a relationship, and immediately go looking for anything I couldn’t do before.” Sobering a little, I held his gaze. “I just want to make sure you’re satisfied, though.”

His sleepy grin was adorable. “Trust me—I am completely satisfied.”

“Me too. But if something’s missing…”

“It’s not. I promise.”

We’d see how things went in time. I’d been with men who insisted they were okay with this or that, but over time, the resentment built. Either they’d dump me and find it elsewhere, or they’d skip straight to finding it elsewhere without letting me know we were now in an open relationship. Ugh. I fucking hated cheaters.

But Anthony and I were just starting whatever this was. We hadn’t made any declarations of being exclusive or anything like that. Nothing to do at this stage but play it by ear, and I was completely okay with that. Between my disabilities and my economic situation, I’d more or less resigned myself to being permanently undesirable. Now I was in bed with a rich man who was also a perfect specimen of physical fitness, and there was no mistaking the way he’d looked at me and touched me. If anything about me was off-putting, Anthony didn’t seem to notice or care.

Is this karma? Is this the universe settling up with me after dealing me such shitty hands for so long?

Hell, maybe it was.

Because every day since Anthony had walked into my world had been the best day of my life.

And they just kept getting better.

Chapter 31

Anthony

“Someone’s in a good mood.” Nova tapped my shin with his stick as we clomped out to the ice. “Does this mean you’ll remember how to play hockey today?”

“Hey!” I whacked him with my own stick. “I always remember to play!”

He shot me a pointed look.

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever, dude. I’ve been doing fine for a while.”

“Uh-huh. You have. So how about you keep it up, yeah?”

I just laughed, and when we reached the sheet, I skated out to start my pre-practice warmup routine. Nova was right—I was in a damn good mood this morning. Even the ride to the arena with Simon hadn’t been enough to dampen my spirits. As I skated, I could still feel last night, which had me smiling to myself behind my visor.

Practice started, and I joined my teammates, reminding myself to concentrate. Hockey, not Wyatt, damn it.

I’d been so distracted on the ride in with Simon this morning that I’d barely been able to follow our conversation. Not that we’d talked much; Simon hadn’t been chatty and I didn’t feel compelled to make small talk. Still, I’d assumed that with as hard as I’d had to work just to stay focused on him, I’d be a mess once I hit the ice.

Not so much—the morning skate went really well. Through all of our light drills and line rushes, I was dialed in.

In the locker room, Coach clapped my shoulder. “I don’t know what you did to get your head back in the game, Aussie, but keep it up. You’re on a roll, and I like it.”

Thank God I was still hot from practice, so my face was probably flushed enough that he wouldn’t notice if I blushed. And I managed to not cut my eyes toward Simon at the next locker stall. Somehow, I held on to enough dignity and restraint to just say, “Thanks, Coach. I will.”

He left us to continue changing out of our gear, and Simon turned to me. “So what are you doing to get your head in the game?”

Why do I feel like if I tell you, you won’t have your head in the game?

I shrugged. After I’d pulled off my jersey, I said, “Just focusing better, I guess.”

He peered at me in that way that meant he knew I was full of shit.

He wisely let it go, though. Awesome. That meant we could have it out in the car. Couldn’t fucking wait.

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