Page 51 of Playing to Win

“I should…” He sounded as wrecked as I felt.

The dating might be fake, but the orgasms? Anything but. The kind that made me long for repeats.

Whoa. No, nope,non. He was a hockey player. Nothing could happen.

I sat up, calming my breathing and my voice. “Bathroom is in the hall.”

He nodded and rolled out of bed. Once he was through the door, I scrambled up and dug into a drawer for some sweats. Baggy, loose, unsexy sweats. I had just pulled a Bonfire hoodie over my head when he returned.

Best intentions be damned. I stared. Even without being lust-driven, the man had a great body. Defined arms and pecs, rippling abdomen—marred by marks on his chest. Marks I’d made with my fingernails.Damn. That wasn’t normal for me. A weird possessive streak popped up, happy to have claimed him. He looked a little uncomfortable with my stare, so I moved to the bed, straightening the sheets.

“Uh, I should probably go. But can I ask something?”

I stood, expecting something bad. Something that would ruin this happy endorphin rush I was enjoying. “What?”

“Everyone was surprised to hear you were dating a hockey player.” He looked around the room, where I’d already started to erase the evidence of what we’d done. “Is it because of your family—the way they are about your brother?”

I dropped to the bed. Fuck, he figured that out fast. I nodded. There was more, but that was the core of it. Dating a hockey player would be like I denied all the disparagement I got for playing hockey. Like I was agreeing with my family.

His shoulders dropped. “I get it. I’ll just dress and go.”

Yes. I needed him to leave, so I could work through these post-sex endorphins and his understanding and toughen myself up again.

I picked up his pants and gave them a shake. They were crumpled, and this was his new suit, that he’d worn tonight to meet my parents.

“I could throw these in the dryer, get out some of the wrinkles.”

He picked up his shirt, even worse. “It’s okay. No one is gonna see me, and I can take care of them at home.”

Was he that anxious to be gone? There was no reason to feel disappointed. This was what I wanted. I didn’t want him lingering, wanting more. I didn’t want to wake up with him and do this again.

Sure?a little voice asked.Down, libido.

“I’ll just go and—” I waved at the hallway and fled to the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I leaned on the vanity, facing myself in the mirror. My cheeks were flushed, my hair a disaster, and his stubble had marked my skin. A smile grew on my face before I checked it.

Time to remember what was going on here. Great orgasms, sure, but Braydon was still a hockey player. It wasn’t just my family—I refused to be relegated to the background, to just be someone on a hockey player’s arm. Iwasa fucking hockey player. Women players were overlooked enough. No need to add to it.

I washed my hands and opened the door. Braydon was standing between the living room and kitchen, fully dressed.

I pulled myself together. “Thank you. Meeting my parents is always tense. You’re good to drive home?”

We’d only done this because of my parents. We were not a couple, and we weren’t going to be booty calls either. One and done.

He nodded. “I’m good. And thanks—it was fun.” He turned and slipped out the door.

Fun?That hurt. Which was fucking stupid.

Braydon hadn’t chosen me either. He had no choice, stuck with me until the season was done. Then the Blaze could trade him, send him back to the Inferno, or whatever else. He wouldn’t need me much longer—he was already doing well in popular opinion now that he was supporting the women’s team. Crisis averted.

I went back to my room, stripped the bed of the sheets that smelled of him and stuffed them in the washer.

Enough.

Chapter16

Team Faith

Braydon

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