Page 45 of The Poster Boy
“I shouldn’t need help.”
“There’s no I in team, Myers.”
Prying my arm off my face, I looked at him as he propped himself up on an elbow, looking far too smug for his own good.
“That was terrible, for the record.”
Jay only smiled wider. It was a change from the usual scowl he wore. For the first couple of weeks after first meeting him, I wasn’t certain he even knew how to smile. He was always scowling or frowning or he just sat there with his deadpan expression.
But he came to life when he smiled. His exterior might be that of a prickly hedgehog, but his underbelly was soft. Jay was a secret softy. I wasn’t about to point it out, though, because I had a feeling he’d lock that part of himself back down.
Before I knew what was happening, he was on his feet and stepping back into his pants.
“What are you doing?” I watched, a little dumbfounded as he gathered up the dirty clothes from my floor.
Without missing a beat, he tossed the clothes into thebasket. “Laundry,” he replied, motioning for me to get up. “Put some pants on and get some clean sheets.”
“You’re so bossy.” I rolled out of bed and grabbed a clean pair of sweats from my dresser. Then, as instructed, I got a fresh set of sheets from the closet. By the time I returned with them, Jay had stripped my bed and located the stacked washer and dryer.
“You don’t have to do my laundry, Jay.” I shook out the fitted sheet and tried to figure out which way it went on the mattress. After determining the correct way, the sheet quickly revealed my error, and I was forced to admit defeat and start again.
“I know I don’t have to.” Jay took a pillowcase and slid it over a pillow while I continued to battle with the sheet. “I want to. None of us got where we are without help, Marek. My first coach taught me how to go faster. Another coach showed me how to improve my passing skills. There’s a million ways the guys help each other on and off the ice all the time.”
It wasn’t the same, and he knew it. This wasn’t the same thing as puck drills, or shooting drills, or suicide drills. This was my inability to cope with real life and the million and one tasks that got away from me.
He dropped the pillows on the head of the bed. He grabbed the flat sheet and flicked it in the air, let the air catch it, and it gently settled down on the bed like he had some sort of Disney princess magic up his sleeve. I almost thought birds were going to come in the window and help him.
“When Church went through his slump, you were there to guard the net while he sorted himself out.” Jay faced me then and offered me a tentative smile. A look of understanding and acceptance was on his face. All the compassionwith none of the judgment. It nearly broke me. I knew if I had to say a single word at that moment that I’d lose my shit.
I nodded instead, winning me a grin from Jay that was soft and made his eyes crinkle in the corners.
“Let’s finish up here, and then we’ll figure out what’s next.” He brushed a kiss against my lips and then busied himself by putting the duvet back on the bed. It was probably the first time my bed had been made properly since I moved here.
Jay had me tackle the bathroom next while he sorted out the main living area. I’d at least gotten my shit together enough to have my meals prepped and delivered. Shame bloomed in me yet again when I came face to face with the stack of empty containers he’d stacked on the counter.
“I’ll do these dishes. What else do you need to do?”
With every task that Jay took off my list, it not only took a load off my shoulders, but it freed up some of the fog in my brain. I couldn’t think in a cluttered space. Especially when I was responsible for the clutter and the mess. It drove me to distraction, thinking about how I should get up and tidy but being unable to make myself.
Now, though, that he’d taken care of the worst of it, I could hire someone to come in a couple times a week to keep on top of things.
“I want to hire a housekeeper. Do you have any recommendations?”
“Me, nah. But Andrew has one he likes. Text him now while you’re thinking about it.”
“Yes, boss,” I joked and looked around for my phone. Jay motioned to the counter where, sure enough, I’d abandoned it earlier. I fired off a series of texts to Andrew begging for his help in finding a housekeeper.
“What else do you need to do?” Jay had finished the dishes and was drying his hands.
“Right now? Nothing.” I furrowed my brow and tried to think if there was anything I needed to do. I’d been scattered for days and couldn’t seem to get a grip on anything. Holding on to a thought was like trying to grip a fistful of water.
“Nothing?” Jay tossed the towel on the counter. “Are you sure about that? Nothing at all.”
My gaze slid down his bare torso and paused at the massive erection he was sporting.
“Does doing dishes really do it for you?” Even as I teased, I reached for him. Looped my fingers into the top of his pants and pulled them down. His cock sprang free, and I grabbed it, stroked it, tried to look in his eyes but they’d already fallen shut.
“I might have a thing for hot goalies.”
