Page 6 of For Pucking Keeps

“Thank goodness for Chucks. If I was in heels I’d probably be ankle-less,” Jaz finally says as she pullsher hand from mine making me pause my stride. I turn to face her, with a question on my lips but the sight of her with her hands on her hips and a frown on her face is all the answer I need. I guess my hasty exit was a bit much.

I sigh. “My apologies. Rule number two about hockey. There are always cameras, everywhere. So, if there is a picture of you and me tomorrow on every social media platform, I beg your forgiveness now. What was innocent to us will be heavy gossip for the rest of the world.” I start to pace, feeling a bit out of control. This is why I focus on the game and the game only. My team. Winning. Relationships at this point in my life haven’t worked, they don’t work. Not saying this is anything of the sort, but what if. . .I won’t have my life under the spotlight, not like before.

“Tor,” I hear my name and pause again.

“I may not be famous. Not by your standards. But I work in a world where I am well aware of the crazy that is social media. I might not be in the public arena of spectacle and fanfare like you are, but I am used to my own brand of scrutiny. Don’t wear a groove in the pavement on my behalf. I’m a big girl and can take it. It’s just a picture,” she says reassuringly. “Also, to answer your question. Yes, I would welcome your help, oh wise and experienced one.”

I want to protest and tell her that she doesn’t understand, but what do I know about her? I don’tknow much about the writing world, so to say that would be condescending. But she said yes. Yes, to my help, and with that one-word agreement all the other bullshit fades into the background. I shouldn’t feel so much so fast for someone. It’s not natural, is it? Instead of pouring out my heart and having her run from me screaming I blow out a breath and hold out my hand once more.

“Okay, let me get you home.” I smile knowing that at least, for now, it won’t be the last time.

FIVE

TOR

“I’m. . .I’m dranker than I thought,” Jaz slurs as I practically drag her to my SUV. Somewhere between the outside of the bar and the walk to the car, the liquor hit, and it hit hard. Her bright eyes are glassy, slightly unfocused, her lips pouty and begging to be kissed as she sways into me again as I struggle to hold her up and unlock the door at the same time.

I lean away from her waiting mouth and look down into her expectant eyes. No, no, my sweet Supernova, I don’t take advantage of inebriated women. “Dranker?” I lift my brow at her questionable vocabulary choice, and she gazes at me in confusion, like she can’t remember what she just said. I smile at her drunken, puzzled expression, because damn it, it only makes her more appealing. She is beautiful.

“I didn’t say dranker, I said drunk,” she protests as I lift her into the passenger seat, leaning in to buckle her seat belt.

“Sure,” I reply sarcastically, biting back another smile.

Jaz bats my arm away. “You don’t need to home take me. I call a car. I’m fine. You’re a stranger. I can do it myself.” Jaz fumbles with the seatbelt but I stop her from trying to escape. Is this woman for real right now?

Trapping her in the seat, my arms on either side of her body, caging her in, she stills and looks up at me. She opens her mouth to read me the riot act, but I stop her by cupping her chin gently between my fingers. “There is no way in hell I’m going to let you get away from me.” Yes, I sound like a crazy psycho stalker at the moment, but there is a truth behind my words that I can’t deny. I don’t want to let her walk away from me. I don’t know what this need is, there are no words, but I need to be near her, to learn her, it claws at my insides with all kinds of rightness. “I promised Lia I would get you home, Miss Starr. I make good on my promises, and I don’t plan on breaking them anytime soon.” I release my hold and I watch her visibly swallow. Clearly I am not the only one struggling with this explosive attraction between us. I love seeing her just as undone by it as I am.

“You make me nervous,” she finally says, thescent of lime and sugar dances against my face as she blows out a fortifying breath. “Too many mojitos. Didn’t mean to.” Jaz’s head falls back against the head rest, and she closes her eyes. “I’m not usually like this. I shouldn’t— I’m not a flight risk. I’m sorry.”

I pull away and close the door. Jogging around the front of the SUV I glance around the parking lot making sure this little exchange was just between the two of us. We already have the potential of one photo out in the world, the last thing I need is for the press to think I’m kidnapping this woman.

“No need to apologize, Jaz. You’re right, you don’t know me. I hope we can change that in the near future. But getting you home safely is my priority,” I say as I climb into the car. I don’t regret what I said or how I said it. I meant every word. Helping her learn more about hockey is my opening. For now, it’s enough. When she doesn’t respond I realize she has passed out. Breathing evenly, her head resting against the seat facing me, damn, wearing my jersey, she looks fucking adorable. I want to reach out and tangle my fingers into her curly ponytail, but I just sit there questioning my sanity.

“Where did you come from, Supernova?” I ask my sleeping passenger as I pull away from the bar and head toward Lia’s neighborhood. Jaz is her neighbor so there is no need to try to wake her for alocation. I let my question linger in the air as I make the drive out of downtown Seattle to the picturesque neighborhood, wishing the journey wasn’t over so fast. Jaz doesn’t stir the entire way to her house, and I find myself checking to see if she’s still beside me. This entire night has felt like a fever dream. One minute I was skating on the ice, the next she was there, appearing like a sunrise in my grey, muted life. I don’t understand it, I’m not going to try. It’s like suddenly I’m living in technicolor when I didn’t realize the color was missing from my life. I’ve been living in black and white, none the wiser. Focused on hockey, my one true love, my career, my driving force. It’s my sure thing, but as I nudge the sleeping woman next to me. I’m not so sure about any of my beliefs. I know I don’t need the distraction of a relationship, not now anyway. Not when everything rides on this season.

When I park the car in front of what I assume is her home. I can see Ridley’s car in Lia’s driveway, so I must be in the right place. Jaz groans beside me, then jolts awake, her eyes widen as she takes in her surroundings. Her face relaxes when I assume it all clicks in place. She turns her head towards me giving me a sheepish expression.

“Shit. I’m sorry.” She wipes at the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand frantically and I don’t have the heart to tell her that she wasn’tdrooling in her sleep. So God damn cute to see her like this though, so I sit back and enjoy it.

“No apologies necessary,” I assure her as I gesture to her waiting home. “I hope I got this right.”

She looks over at her home, the porch light bathing the front sloped lawn in a warm glow. “You did, Mr. Bailey,” she says as she opens the door so fast she stumbles out, her body pitching forward and almost face planting.

“Shit. Shit. Oh, damn it. Just great.” Jaz grips the door as she rights herself. I don’t hesitate as I throw my door open to rush to her side, but she stops me. One hand clings to the door for dear life, while the other is outstretched to ward me off. I take a step in her direction.

“Don’t. I’m already embarrassed enough.” She groans, swiping her hand over her face. “I can make it from here.”

“Are you sure?” I ask, not ready to leave her yet. “I can help you inside.” The last thing I want is for her to think that she’s made herself appear anything but amazing in my eyes. We all get a little tipsy sometimes. She’s already admitted it was partially because of my presence, which I should feel slightly bad about, but I don’t. I’m flattered that I’ve managed to get under her skin so thoroughly in only a few hours.

Jaz waves me off, possibly questioning this night and the bizarre turn of events just like I am. “I’msure.” She gives me a small smile. “I met an actual hockey player tonight and things went south real fast.” She chuckles, mumbling her words under her breath. “Look, you don’t have to help me if you don’t want to. I understand it?—”

“Don’t. I want to help. In fact, let me give you my number,” I say, refusing to let her walk away from me possibly for good. Not going to happen. She hesitates as we eye each other over the hood of my SUV. Don’t try and run from me now, Supernova, is what I want to say.I let her come to her own conclusion and say nothing. I have an early start tomorrow, but I’m willing to wait for her to make up her mind about me. I almost sigh in relief when she slowly reaches for her phone. We exchange numbers quickly, and before I know it, I’m watching her half walk, half sway up the steps to her house.

As I pull away, my fingers twitch around the steering wheel with the need to reach out now that I have her number. So, I send her a text message, because yeah, I can’t help myself.

ME: Goodnight, Miss Starr. See you soon.

There’s no way I’m going to be able to stay away.

---