Page 57 of Stick Handled

We both go quiet as he takes a sip of his coffee.

“I have a physical exam today,” he says, flipping the magazine closed.

“Like a full body check-up?” I ask, chewing on my pancake. “Are you injured?”

“No, no. They just make sure everything’s in one piece. Stretch, squeeze some dude’s fist between my knees, things like that. So I can get the clearance to keep playing,” Rowan says, a little too nonchalant about it. I know hockey players are scared shitless of physicals, even if Rowan’s downplaying it. “Part of the job. Can’t be out on the ice if I’m falling apart, right?”

Rowan left for his appointment thirty minutes ago, leaving me to do the dishes. Just as I close the dishwasher and rinse my hands, I hear the roar of an engine outside.

I peek out the window and see a black matte BMW parked at the end of the driveway.

Holy shit.

I’m not a car expert by any means, but I can tell it’sserious. Like, if the car were a person, it’d probably be one of those dudes who flexes in the mirror for fun and then immediately intimidates you by just existing.

I know it’s him. My heart does a little flip as I hurry to grab the keys and head for the door.

As I close the door behind me, Damien leans out the window and flashes me a smile behind his black sunglasses.

“Good morning.” I might be going crazy, but he looks better and better each day. He looks every bit the arrogant NHL star, yet this is the same man who slept in my bed last night.

“Good morning.” I give him a smile as I round the car.

I climb into the passenger seat, and my heart does this little stupid flip at the way he looks at me behind his sunglasses. He sinks his teeth into his lower lip and turns his attention back to the road as he starts driving.

“What kind of car is this?” I ask, trying to keep my thoughts in check.

“M8 Competition.” His forearm flexes as he steers the car, his biceps as big as my head, even when he’s not flexing them. “You like it?”

“It’s very… you.” I shrug with a smile.

“Ah, so youloveit.” He smirks, and my smile grows. I sit back and try to relax, but his cologne is everywhere. Not in an overwhelming way, but in a soft, faded, Damien kind of way.

“Rowan’s at his physical today,” I start, trying to distract myself from whatever dangerous thoughts my brain is cooking up.

“Mhm, I know.” He nods, tapping his fingers to the music.

“Don’t you have one, too?”

Damien raises an eyebrow, keeping his focus on the road as he accelerates, the car purring smoothly.

“I’ll do a physical for you any day.” His voice drops to this teasing, low register, and I try not to blush,trybeing the operative word.

“What do they do to you exactly?” My face is heating up in a way that has absolutely nothing to do with the speed we’re going.

“It’s just a bunch of checkups,” he says nonchalantly. “They poke and prod a bit, make sure we’re all in one piece for the season.” He smiles, throwing me a sidelong look. “Why? Want to give me one yourself? I’d be happy to strip down if you’re feeling professional, baby.”

My stomach does that flip again.God, I need to get it together.But I can’t. I still feel him down there. I can still feel his hand over my mouth to keep me quiet. I squeeze my eyes shut and sink into the seat, unable to handle thinking about him while he’s right here.

“Did you… sleep in my bed last night?” My heart pounds as I decide to just ask.

“I did.” His lips quirk as he speeds past a few boys, giving him thumbs-ups.

I bite my lip, warmth spreading across my chest.

I knew it!He stayed.

“You asked me to stay.” He shoots me a sideways glance, his tone casual, but there’s something he’s trying to mask. “So, I stayed. Besides, you stayed in my bed. I just returned the favor.”

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