Page 30 of Inside the Penalty Box

My cheeks heated as he looked over at me, giving me a wink.

“You caught that.” He smiled.

“What about you? What are you in school for?”

“I’m going through for the sports therapy program over at Victoria University. Lorelai as well.”

“Ahhh, so I’ll know someone who can fix my injuries and nurse me back to health. That’s always important.” He winked.

“I’m sure you already have access to those people.”

“I do, but I think I like your touch a little better.” He winked, once again causing me to smile and grow quiet, but the second he noticed, he started talking about hockey once again.

Soon he was sharing plays from his last game and hockey terms with me, trying to teach me a few things. When I admitted I’d never watched a hockey game, his jaw dropped.

“Like never ever?” he asked, shock lining his voice.

“Never ever.”

“How can that be? I mean, Walker is your brother. He told me he watches every game.”

“He does, and when he did that while we were growing up, I’d leave the room. I just never had a reason or an interest.” I shrugged, wiping my mouth with a napkin and throwing it in the garbage.

“Well, I think we are immediately going to fix that. A girl of mine needs to be invested in every one of my games. Plus, I’m your interest now.”

“Who says I’m your girl? I questioned as we approached his car.

“Well, think what you want, but you are my girl.”

“So cocky.”

He smiled and opened the car door, but said nothing while waiting for me to climb in. Once he was in the driver’s seat, he sped off through the city, finally pulling into one of the newest high-rises in Vancouver. It was a building I’d always wanted to go into as well, just because of the architecture, but had never had a reason to.

“You live here?” I questioned, looking up at the tall high-rise from the passenger’s seat.

He chuckled. “I do. I don’t spend a substantial amount of time here, what with being on the road all the time, but it’s home when I’m here and during off season. Come on.”

I climbed out of the car and followed him over to the elevator. Once inside, he pressed the button for the thirty-seventh floor and the elevator shot to the top in what seemed like seconds.

“You’re on the top floor?”

“Yep, I think you are going to love the view. You can see all the way to Victoria on a clear night.”

He slid his key in the door and we stepped inside. He quickly flipped the lights on and waited for me to come inside before he shut and locked the door.

“Make yourself at home.” He threw his keys on the kitchen counter and grabbed two beers from the fridge. “Here you go,” he said, opening mine and then his.

I glanced around and slipped my feet from my shoes. The place was beautiful, decorated in beige and brown tones with pops of colour, no doubt by a decorator. It was neater than I imagined it would be for it being a guy’s place. The floor-to-ceiling windows probably produced an amazing view, but the blinds were already shut. He took my hand and pulled me into the living room. The plush carpet felt nice under my bare feet as he guided me to the couch, where he sat down and patted the seat beside him.

I placed my beer on a coaster on the glass coffee table and sat down beside him, sinking into the oversized couch. I sat forward, almost afraid to touch anything.

“So, what do you think?” he asked.

“It’s really nice.”

The room grew quiet, and then that same unsettling feeling I got in my gut every time I’d been alone with him started again. It was as if my body and brain were having an argument. One wanted him to touch me, to take me, and the other wanted him nowhere near me. I swallowed hard, knowing he was watching me, and averted my eyes.

“Would you relax?” he said.

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