Page 6 of Snowed In With the PUCK

I feel a little bad about how things ended between us last night. I wasn’t trying to make a joke out of everything. It’s just something I do when I’m unsettled. And she unsettles me, intrigues me, and… arouses me. Joking is a tactic that has served me well in life, but I have a feeling it won’t work with her.

I hear footsteps coming from the hallway. My heart leaps in my chest. Why am I so excited to see a lawyer? I must have lost my mind. I turn just as Jessica steps into the kitchen, fully dressed in a sleek black blazer and professional skirt, looking like she’s ready to take on the world. Her hair is pulled back in a neat ponytail, and she already has a serious, no-nonsense expression on her face.

I feel my crotch wake up at the sight of her. The gentle scent of floral reaches my nose and every masculine urge I have in me starts to roar to life. I can’t want her. But I do.

“Morning,” I say, trying to sound casual… trying not to smirk as I remember those full lips of hers muttering out “wow” at the sight of me last night. I’d love for her to say that to me again, in a very up close and intimate way.

She nods, but it’s curt. “Hi Eric. I trust you slept well.”

If this is how she is in a negotiation room, I bet she wins every time, likely by just freezing her clients’ opponents to death with the ice in her tone. Or, more likely, maybe she’s still annoyed to have to share the house with me. I lean back against the counter, setting my coffee mug down. “You heading into the city?”

“Yeah,” she says, not offering much else. She opens the fridge, sees nothing she likes, clearly, frowns and then shakes her head. How is she so damn cute doing something so banal? I clear my throat, noticing my casual attire next to her professional clothes. Even though we’re so different, I think we look cute together. I blink twice. Whoa! Where did that come from? She’s my housemate, not my girlfriend.Girlfriend?No. This has to stop.

“I’ve got to go into Denver too. Arena’s not far from your law office, right?” I pause, thinking this is me being friendly, trying to smooth things over with an olive branch of sorts. “I can give you a ride if you want. Save you the trouble of driving. I hear it snows a lot around here, and you wouldn’t have to deal with that.”

She looks at me for a second, like she’s assessing whether I’m serious or not. Finally, she shakes her head. “No thanks. I’ve got my own car. I lived in NYC for years. I’m not afraid of some snow.”

I blink. That was a fast shutdown. “Oh. Right. I was just trying to be nice to my housemate.”

Jessica reaches for her traitor of a computer sleeve, the one that revealed her job to me last night, and tightens her grip on it, not interested in any further conversation. “I appreciate it, but I’m fine. Thanks.”

Boss lady. Those words come into my mind again. She’s a force to be reckoned with. Prim. Precise. Decisive. It makes me want to chase after her, pin her on the bed, and do all the wicked things to her body until she comes undone before me.

I gulp on my coffee, shoving the fantasy away.

I watch her turn towards the front door, her back stiff as she walks away. The door closes in a little click behind her.

“Well, that went well. I was just offering a ride, not asking for her life story.” Rebuffed and slightly irritated, I take another sip of coffee and tell myself that I tried to be nice and that’s what matters. I’m supposed to “clean up my act and my image” and part of that is being a nice guy, cutting out the ladies’ man crap.

She said no because she’s probably just one of those super independent types, always needing to do everything themselves.

Still, as I finish getting ready and drive to the arena, I can’t help but feel a bit thrown off. Last night was weird, sure, but I thought maybe offering help would smooth things over. Guess not.

The morning traffic is light as I make my way to the Avalanche’s arena. There’s a knot in my stomach, but it’s not about Jessica. It’s about the meeting with the team owner, Kip Brown. I haven’t even met the guy yet, and I already know this is going to be more than just a “welcome to Denver” chat. There’s always a catch when you’re a new guy and have to prove yourself. And in my case, I’m new to Denver but not new to the league, so there will be some PR stuff to negotiate and work out. There’s always a public relations angle to consider in my line of work. The whole reason I got traded was because Nashville didn’t want to deal with my so-called “image issues,” and I have a feeling Denver is going to be no different.

I pull into the arena parking lot in the back of the bowl, as it is colloquially called due to its shape, the enormous structure towering over me. The cold wind bites at my face as I step out of the car, reminding me I’m not in Nashville any longer.

After making my way inside and up to the top of the building where the executives’ offices are, I’m greeted by one of the staff members who escorts me to the executive conference room. It’s probably just going to be some boring meeting about logistics—contracts, endorsements, all that legal crap. I don’t need to worry. I can handle whatever they throw at me.

Except when the door opens, I see Jessica standing there, along with a guy I don’t recognize, probably another attorney. Her back is to me, and she’s talking with someone who looksimportant—tall, older guy with a confident presence. That is retired, Hall of Fame, former NHL player and now team owner, Kip Brown. He’s a type-A with a sharp eye for weakness. Once he finds it, he exploits it. It’s what made him so hard to beat on the ice.

My eyes rip off of Kip with his tall, powerful frame and smooth laugh. I focus on her.

What the hell? I thought she was going to her law office. Suddenly, I don’t know how to act—do I pretend I don’t know her? Am I supposed to come clean about us living together?

I walk inside, and everyone turns to look at me. Kip steps forward, a broad smile on his face. “Eric! Glad you could make it. Let’s get this meeting started.”

Jessica’s eyes are unreadable when she sees me, but her expression is the epitome of professionalism. If she’s surprised to see me here, she doesn’t let it show.

“Eric, good to see you,” Kip extends a hand, and I jump out of my Jessica-induced trance.

“Hello, Mr. Brown,” I say.

“Please, let’s be at ease here. It’s Kip. And this is Jason Hayes,” Kip says, gesturing toward the man standing next to Jessica. “He’s the senior attorney managing your contract and trade deal. And of course, you’ve already met Jessica, or so she tells us.” He pauses. “That is, if I understood you right, Jessica?”

She nods, forcing a smile. “Yes. The little housing mix up is just temporary, though.”

I glance at Jessica, who gives me a brief nod, as if all of us being here is the most casual thing in the world. It doesn’t feel that way to me. It feels like a set-up, or maybe that’s just my paranoia kicking in after I was let go from my last team. I knew she was working on my trade, but I didn’t expect to see her here, front and center at this meeting.

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