Page 61 of Hitting the Gap

Bailey’s eyes brightened. “Yes. But are you sure you want to do that? It’s pretty touristy and I’d imagine that would be a pain for you.”

“Nah, it’ll be fine. Plus, there’s good food. Leave in half an hour?”

“I’ll be ready.” Bailey hopped up from the couch and hurried down the hall to her room.

It was nice having her here. The apartment didn’t feel so empty. The second he’d opened the door, he’d known she was home and he hadn’t even seen her yet. The apartment just felt different.

The start of the season had been tough. For the first time in his career, he’d been lonely. Now that his closest teammates were all in committed relationships, he was on his own a lot more. They didn’t want to go for beers when they got back to town. They were too eager to get home. He understood it, but it still sucked for him. Until now. Having Bailey here changed that.

He wandered into his bedroom and headed straight into the walk-in closet. The zipper stuck on his beat-up overnight bag. The brown leather bag had been one of his first purchases after he’d signed with the Hawks’ farm team. Since then, the old bag had gone everywhere with him. There were a lot of memories in this thing. The zipper snagged again and he cursed. He didn’t want to have to get a new one. When he finally got it open, he pulled out his dirty clothes and dumped them in the laundry basket. He peeled off his shirt and tossed it on the top of the pile, his pants quickly followed suit. The moment he got home, the first thing he always did was change out of his travel clothes. Who the hell knew what was in those seats? Planes were like a giant petri dish. He had no intention of turning his apartment into one as well. He grabbed a pair of jeans off the hanger and stepped into them but didn’t bother to do them up.

“Um Gonz?” Bailey called.

“Yeah?” He popped his head out of the closet. Bailey looked at him and her eyes widened and, if he wasn’t mistaken, lingered on his waist. He looked down at his undone jeans and bit back a grin. “Eyes up, Bay.”

Her head snapped up. “What?” She shook her head. Almost as soon as her head stopped moving, her cheeks instantly turned red.

Busted. She’d definitely been looking. “You need something, Bay?”

“Sorry. I just wanted to check what kind of place you wanted to eat at, so I knew what to wear.”

“I’m going jeans.”

“Um…so I s—see,” she stammered.

He couldn’t help himself, he had to flex, just a little, and was rewarded with a visible swallow from Bailey. The kind of swallow that says her brain had short-circuited ever so slightly. “I was thinking we’d do Mexican. There are a couple of cool places with outdoor seating and live music. Gotta good casual vibe.”

Her eyes dipped to his waist again, then quickly snapped back up. “Right, casual, good.” She flashed him a thumbs up.

What the hell? Gonzo barked out a laugh. “You okay?”

“Of course.” She sighed. “But my god why are your pants undone? And why does it look like you aren’t wearing underwear?”

“Because I’m not.”

“Who does that?” she screeched.

“I only have a couple of clean pairs left, and I need them for the next road trip. I’m taking you for dinner. I don’t have time to do laundry.”

Bailey stepped past him and grabbed hold of the laundry basket and dragged it toward herself.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Your laundry. Now put some damn underwear on,” she growled. Turning on her heel, she hoisted the basket into her arms and marched out of the bedroom.

“Wouldn’t have taken you for a prude, Bay,” he called after her.

“I’m not a prude, it’s just good hygiene,” she yelled back.

Alone in the closet once more, he glanced down at his waistband. Then shrugged and pulled up his zipper and buttoned the jeans. Why bother? The jeans were already on.

He pulled a blue henley off the shelf and slipped it over his head.

Grabbing his shaving kit out of his overnight bag, he wandered into the bathroom to brush his teeth. Gonzo stood in front of the mirror and looked at his reflection. He flicked his hand through his hair to tame the little tuft that seemed to have a mind of its own. The hair instantly popped straight back up. Fantastic. He stuck his hand under the tap and wet his fingers, then slapped his hand onto the unruly tuft. After several more attempts, the thick chunk of dark hair finally surrendered and lay flat.

He quickly brushed his teeth, used the washroom, then grabbed his wallet off the dresser and made his way to the kitchen.

When Bailey walked in several minutes later, he sucked in a breath. “Wow, that’s some top,” he told her.

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