Page 74 of The Right Move

I run my palm over her back, quickly learning that Indy didn’t bring those footy pajamas she threatened me with. She’s wearing some kind of silky sleep set and I could not be more thankful I can’t see underneath the blankets. Because I know it looks as good as it feels in my hands, and I’m over here trying my fucking hardest to be a gentleman while sharing a bed with my biggest weakness.

Indy lifts her head from my neck to look at me. The subtle glow of the stars outlines the slope of her nose, the fluttering of her lashes, the soft pillows of her lips. She wets the bottom one with a slick slide of her tongue.

Fuck me, I want her, and even though she’s made it clear she’s got nothing left to give, I find myself desperate to take even the scraps if they’re offered.

What I’m not sure I can do is separate a physical relationship from the rest the way she wants, so instead of taking her mouth, I brush her hair behind her ear and place my lips on her forehead.

Indy yawns, repositioning herself as I lay back on the bed. She rests her cheek on my bare chest and slings an arm over my waist.

“To be honest, my stack of pillows is much more comfortable than your chest, but I guess you’ll do.” She readjusts. “Seriously, Ryan, it’s like sleeping on a goddamn boulder.”

“You’re awfully whiney for a girl who’s practically burrowing her way into my skin right now.”

“Shut up.”

Wearing an amused smile, I pull the blankets higher over our bodies before wrapping both my arms around her to make sure she can’t get away. With my fingertips, I trace invisible designs over her ribs, memorizing the way she molds against me.

Her breathing slows after some time, but I don’t think I’ll sleep a wink. I can’t recall the last time I shared my bed with a woman, and as sad as it sounds, I don’t want to miss a moment of this.

She inhales deeply. “Ryan?”

“Hmm?”

“Why do you smell like coconut?”

16

INDY

If there’s anything I know how to do it’s to play a part. Whether it be the happy-go-lucky friend or the girlfriend who shines brightly on her partner’s arm but knows when to dim her light for him to excel in front of his peers.

But tonight, I’m playing the point guard’s girl, and I’ve got to admit, it’s my favorite role thus far.

Skin-tight black leather pants, red strappy heels, and an itty-bitty Devils tee create the perfect costume for the act. My hair is in a slicked-back ponytail, and I finished my makeup with a swipe of red across my lips which I’ll chalk up to team spirit and is in no way meant to distract number five.

“Indy, you’ve got the tickets?” Zanders asks as we exit his G-Wagon, and even though he’s not the one playing tonight, he still has the luxury of parking in the players’ lot.

“Yep.” I hold my phone up. “Ryan sent them.”

“Look at us. Going to your fake boyfriend’s game like a happy little family.” Stevie slips her arm through mine, her other hand threaded with Zanders’ as the three of us walk towards the arena. “Ryan’s plan must be working if the Morgans gifted you their court-side tickets.”

“What can I say? I’m quite the actress.”

Zanders gives the older man at the door a hug before leading the way down the long hall that stretches past the locker rooms.

“That’s the visitor’s training room.” Zanders points out as we follow along on his tour. “Visitors’ locker room and home training room. And here”—he stops us in front of one of the two team portraits on the wall—“are the Stanley Cup champs.”

I lean in close to the picture, examining all the guys I work for covered in confetti after their Stanley Cup win. I didn’t get to see the team after they won at home last season so this is a cool insight.

Maddison’s kids are both in the shot with him. Rio’s goofy grin is splitting, and his green eyes are shining as if he maybe shed a few tears. Then there’s Zanders, who seems less arrogant than he typically is.

“Zee, you look kind of sad in this picture.”

“Understatement, Ind. I was devastated. That was one of the best and worst nights of my life.”

He looks down at Stevie, the two of them sharing an understanding smile. They weren’t together when the Raptors won the Cup and from what I understand, Zanders assumed that was the night he lost her for good.

He pulls her in tight as we continue our tour. “Home locker room,” Zanders says and suddenly I’m hyperaware that Ryan is just on the other side of those doors.

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