Page 18 of Hot for the Hockey Player
“No.”
“Hang on.”
I glanced up at the ceiling, praying to a god I didn’t believe in, for the earth to just open up and swallow me whole.This was not happening.It couldn’t be.I was obviously in a fever dream or something.This kind of stuff happened to my cousins—particularly Raina and Naomi—but it didn’t happen to me.I was the careful one.The cautious one.I assessed the risk of everything before I did it, and definitely before I let my kids do it.Life was too precious, our freedom was too precious, to play chicken with danger.And apparently, a cup of tea, while sitting at my dining room table, across from a menacingly handsome man, was playing chicken with danger.
“Here,” Maverick said.“I got you a cloth and ran it under the faucet.It’s pretty cold.”
I grumbled, mostly under my breath, and opened the door just a crack, sticking out my hand, but hiding behind the door so he couldn’t see me.“Thank you.”
The cloth was pretty cold and even though it was only in my hand, I already felt the relief.
I closed the door again and sat down on my bed, carefully draping the damp, cold tea towel across my lap.Instant reprieve.
“Is that cold enough?I can get you some ice.I saw some in your freezer.”
“It’s fine.Thank you.”
Dear god, I didn’t even want to think about how this moment could get any worse, because at the rate I was operating—it would.
“You should probably run cold water over it, rather than just place the towel on it,” Maverick said, still on the other side of my closed door.“The burn will just heat the towel and make it sting.I’ve done quite a bit of first aid training.”
“I’m not coming out there in my underwear,” I said, probably a little too snippy.
“I can go outside.I’m more worried about it blistering than anything.I’ve dropped hot coffee on my lap before and it’s brutal.”
He was right.I had first aid training too, and even if I didn’t, my body temperature was working overtime to heat the tea towel.
“I’m going to step outside, okay?You do what you need to do to feel comfortable, but get yourself to the bathroom, sit on the edge of the tub, and let the cold water from the tap cool off your lap, okay?”The authoritative edge to his voice should have sent alarm bells off in my head.I should have been actively defying him, just because he was a man telling me what to do, andnomanevertold me what to do.Not anymore.
But none of that was happening.No alarm bells.No red flags.No inherent need to do the exact opposite of what he was telling me to do.Since my divorce, that had never happened.
“Okay,” I practically whimpered, having to stop myself from slapping my own face at how weak my voice sounded.
“I’m leaving now.I’ll just be outside your front door … can you tell my voice is further away?I’m opening the door … Now I’m going to close it.”
I rolled my eyes, waited five agonizing breaths, then grabbed my robe off the back of my door, slid my arms into it, and wrapped it up before throwing open the door and racing to the bathroom.I closed the door, drew back the curtain to the bath, and did just what he said.I ditched my robe on the floor, sat on the edge of the tub, and grabbed the shower nozzle from above.
The cold water over my scarlet skin had me moaning like a porn star.It was cold, and gooseflesh rippled down my shins, but I didn’t care.Anything to take away the pain.The pain from the tea, the pain of embarrassment, and the pain of Maverick Roy—all man—disrupting my perfectly boring, perfectly safe, perfectly ordinary world.
I was perfectly in trouble.
CHAPTER SIX
Maverick
IstoodjustoutsideGabrielle’s front door next to the big plant pot with an evergreen shrub in it, which was up a flight of stairs and on a small deck, since her cousin and her son lived downstairs.It was challenging to keep my gaze level when I handed her the cold towel, but I managed.I really wanted to drop my eyes and check to see if I could catch a glimpse of her bare thighs, but like a gentleman, I resisted.
“Can I help you?”came a curious, almost hesitant voice from the bottom of the stairs.
A pretty blonde with hazel-green eyes and a standoffish wariness about her, stared up at me, waiting.
Which cousin was this?
“Hi.”I offered her a wave.“I’m Maverick.A friend of Gabrielle’s and the kids.Damon messaged me to come play video games with him again after school.I was here for dinner last night.”
“Is Gabrielle not home?”she asked, not offering me her name.
“She is.I was just inside, but she spilled tea on her lap.I offered to step outside so she could run from her bedroom to the bathroom with privacy.”
