Page 83 of Hot for the Hockey Player
She went into my fridge, grabbed a yogurt cup, sat down on the bar stool, opened it up, and looked at me with big, wide, green puppy dog eyes.“Spoon, please?”
Rolling my eyes, I reached into the cutlery drawer and handed her a spoon.“It’s not going to happen.It can’t.He wants me to come over tonight for a … booty visit or whatever.”
“Booty call,” she corrected.“How do you not know what that is?Youhada FWB when you were in college.Didn’t he booty call you?”
“FWB?”
“Friend with benefits?Again, how do you not know this stuff?You watch television, you have teenagers.And I live in the basement suite below you, so Iknowyou don’t live under a rock.”
I shrugged.“I dunno, I just don’t.And no, myFWBdidn’t booty call me.We had an ironclad arrangement.Notarized and everything.”
“You had itnotarized?” She made a disgusted face.“What the hell is wrong with you?”
A little bruised from the insult, I shot her a look.“Nothing.He was a notary, so we figured why not?”I shook my shoulders and head.“Either way, I’m not going over there for abooty call.People would wonder why my car is parked in front of his cabin for … a long time or whatever.The kids would wonder why I left at night, because I never leave the house.”
“I know you don’t.Doesn’t mean you can’t start.”
“No.”
My phone vibrated on the counter and the notification said it was a message and image from Bennett McEvoy.I set the wooden spoon on the spoon rest and checked my message.
Hey, Gabrielle.Here is the to-scale model of what we want the land to look like.We obviously want your feedback.So take a look and let me know.Or you could pop by tonight and we can go over it in person, along with the last few changes to the proposal since we present two weeks from tomorrow.
I checked the image and it was a beautiful diorama of what we all envisioned for Bonn Remmen’s land.There were a few things I’d change though …
“Who is it?”Raina asked, shoveling a scoop of mango yogurt into her mouth.
“Bennett.He wants me to pop over to check out the model of Bonn Remmen’s land.”
“Ooooh.I’ve seen it.It’s great.But I know you’ll have your own feedback as you always do.”Her eyes went wide, and she snapped her finger.“There you go!”
“There I go where?”
“That’s your excuse to not only leave the house at night, butalsogo over to the cabins since they’reonthe McEvoy property.It’s like the sex gods are gifting you this.”She shoved her hands toward me like she was holding a platter.
I glared at her.“No.”
“Yes.”
Parts of my body weighed in too and they were all screaming “yes” as well.
I turned the sauce down to low to simmer and put the lid on the pot.The pasta was cooked, the sauce was ready, even the parmesan was grated.Technically, I had time to kill before dinner.I could hop in the shower, do some much-needed trimming, and shave my legs.
Was I really doing this?
“I’ll watch the stove and eat all your yogurt.Go have a shower, Gabs,” Raina said, getting up from the barstool and going to the fridge to get another yogurt.“God, this stuff is like crack.”
I chewed on my lip as I stood there mulling things over.As if on cue, my wrists started to tingle and I rubbed at them, the memory of Maverick’s mouth there sending tingles to other places on my body.
“Go,” Raina said, opening the foil on a strawberry-kiwi yogurt.
Sucking in a deep breath through my nose, I nodded and went to go shower.
I could always bail later, but for right now, I was going to get ready for a possible sex-date with Maverick Roy, aged twenty-six, with a washboard stomach, and the kindest heart I’d ever encountered.
Dammit.
I already knew this wasn’t just going to be about sex with him.I was fucking screwed—and not in the good way.
