Page 46 of Good Pucking Luck

I unlock the door and let him in. He’s in a navy polo shirt and slacks, all cute and proper the way he always dresses. Me, on theother hand, I’m shirtless and free-balling it in Rebels shorts with a hole in the leg.

As he takes a step inside, I say, “Hey, cutie,” and somehow the tip of his shoe gets caught and he trips.

I catch him, laughing as he pulls away, scowling. “You did that on purpose.”

“Called you cute? Yep. You did the tripping yourself.” I close the door behind him. “Want a drink or anything?”

“No, I’m okay.” He walks over to the chair where Puck is sitting and gives him some pets. My traitor cat doesn’t give him the evil eye the way he does with me, instead giving Hayes a whole lot of love. “How are you?”

“Fucking fantastic. Did you watch my game?” I cross my arms.

“I’m not answering that.”

“Please? I need to hear the words. You gotta help me build my ego a little.”

“Your ego is the last thing you need to build.”

Chuckling, I move closer. “You might have a point. Still…” I reach out, grab his waist, and hold on. “Tell me.” I kiss the left side of his throat. “Did my good-luck charm watch my game?” I move my mouth to the other side and kiss there as well, then run my nose along the column of his throat, breathing him in.

“Yes,” he lets out breathlessly, before seeming to catch how he sounds. “It’s the most ridiculous game I’ve ever seen.”

I chuckle, pull him with me, still holding on to his waist, then sit on the couch. Hayes plops down on my lap. He almost immediately scrambles off.

“What are you doing, Rylan?”

“Nothing. I like flirting with you, is all. It’s fun. I like to make you react. But I’ll be good so you can tell me about your night.”

He straightens up beside me. “There’s not much to tell.”

“Start at the beginning.”

“Okay, I drove to Donovan’s house.”

I roll my eyes, but I like that he’s being playful and sarcastic. “You know what I mean.”

“It went well. Donovan is the ER nurse and the one who started messaging me and Anthony. Anthony works at a bar in West Hollywood.”

“Do you realize the first thing you went to is their jobs?”

His brows draw together. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. Just an observation.”

“Are you saying I care what they do? Or that I see their worth in their careers?” He shifts uncomfortably.

“What? No. That’s not what I’m saying. Most of your life is wrapped up in your job. I think in a lot of ways, the Rockwell defines who you are, so it’s interesting that you go the same way when it comes to other people.”

“And hockey doesn’t define you?”

He has a point, but I feel like I’m onto something here. “Of course it does in a way. But no matter how much I love it, I work hard to have a life outside of hockey. And I just… I feel like you deny yourself that, is all.” I reach over and hook my thumb with his.

Hayes watches the movement like a hawk. “What are you doing?”

“Um…touching you? Do you want me to stop?”

“It just doesn’t feel like a thing two people who are just fucking would do, so it’s throwing me.” His gaze snaps to mine. “Not that I think you want a relationship with me. I would never think that.”

His statement doesn’t sit well with me. “Why wouldn’t you think that?”

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