Page 16 of Suck My Puck

“Oh. That sucks.”

“Yeah.” I shuffle my feet as an awkward silence stretches between us.

“I could help you,” he says.

I look at him. “You sure you’re allowed to do that?”

He frowns like he’s confused. “What do you mean?”

“You’re a professional hockey player. Don’t you have a clause in your contract that prevents you from doing stuff that could injure yourself?”

He flashes a sexy smile. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

My tummy flips. Well. That was unexpectedly hot.

“What do you need help moving?” he asks.

“Two headboards and a big dresser,” I say.

“That should be fine.”

I think about it for a second. I’m so sick ofsleeping against that clunky old headboard. If I wait for Lance to feel better to help me, it’ll be at least a few days.

My impatience wins out. “You sure it’s okay?”

Braden smiles. “Yeah.”

I walk inside my apartment, and he follows behind me. He toes off his shoes, and I close the door.

“Nice place.” He gazes around the space.

“Thanks. It’s my aunt’s. She’s letting me stay here.”

I leave out the reason why. No need to give the hot hockey goalie my pathetic breakup story.

He follows me into the master bedroom. I point at the heavy wooded headboard. “I want to switch out that wooden headboard for that new upholstered one I ordered.” It’s leaning against the far wall. I tell him I already loosened the old headboard from the bedframe.

“It’s too heavy for me to move by myself,” I say.

“Yeah, no problem. Where do you want to put the old headboard? In the closet?” He nods toward the door to the walk-in closet on the other side of the room.

I shake my head. “No, the closet’s not wide enough. I was thinking we could move the dresser farther down the wall and set the wooden headboard next to it.”

He nods once. “Got it.”

He steps over to one side of the headboard and bends down to grab it. I walk over to the other side of the bed to grab the other end of the headboard, but he moves it on his own.

I stare at him as he lifts the massive piece of wood effortlessly in his hands. I shouldn’t be so surprised. He’s almost a foot taller than me, which means he’s probably about six-three. And he’s built like a fucking unit.

When he lifts the headboard, his biceps bulge. Wow…

A second later, his t-shirt rides up, and I catch a glimpse of his ripped stomach.

A hard swallow moves down my throat. I blink and look away.

Am I seriously getting this hot and bothered watching a guy I barely know move furniture?

It’s been more than six months since you last had sex, so yeah.

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