Page 61 of Daring the Hockey Player
Amber's phone buzzes, and she pulls it from her purse, glancing at the message on the screen. "It's your favorite person, Charlotte," she says and sends a quick response.
I can only imagine what those two are conjuring up next.
"Tell her the blonde hair doesn't fool me. I know she was at the game with you."
"The wig was my idea," Amber quips. "Contrary to what you might think, I don't have a lot of close friends. Besides, without her, I wouldn't have gotten the nerve to show up at Blue Line again."
"Well, anytime the guys are there, you're welcome to join us. I can't promise Kyler won't bring Emerson, though, so that's something you two will have to work out."
Amber blushes. "You mean you won't keep covering for me?"
"I'd cover for you, but I'm pretty sure that you keep it up, and you'll get caught. Kyler or Emerson will notice you."
She sighs and takes a sip of water. "I don't want to get on Em's bad side. I've been there, and it's not pretty." Her phone buzzes, but this time it's not a text. Charlotte is calling her.
"You can take it in my room," I offer, trying to give her some privacy while I finish clearing out the guest room so that it can officially become hers.
"Thanks," she says and smiles weakly, sauntering down the hallway. I shouldn't turn around. I shouldn't steal one more glance, but I have to, and I wonder if she knows that I'm watching her, pining over her, fantasizing about her.
I keep hearing Noah's words in my head.
Bro-code.
But it's more than just bro-code now that we're roommates. Hooking up with Amber would not be wise. It'd make things messy and complicated, and for a few minutes of undeniable pleasure, it's not worth the risk.
Because undoubtedly, it will fail. Whether it's in a few weeks, months, or years, I will always put hockey first, and she'll be disappointed, and her resentment will turn to hate. I don't want to put Amber through that kind of pain.
I like her too much to hurt her, and I do want her in my life as a friend, first and foremost.
It takes a couple of hours, but I'm nearly done and putting the bed frame back together when I hear my bedroom door squeak open.
She had talked with Charlotte for a while before silence enveloped the apartment.
Amber emerges from my bedroom. She looks like she just woke from a nap. Her cheeks are rosy, and her hair is tousled. The look is good on her, but she could make anything sexy.
"Sorry, I fell asleep on your bed."
I'm not sorry. Tonight, my sheets will smell like her. "That's fine," I say. "How'd you sleep?"
"Better than last night." She quips a faint smile and glances at her watch. "You've got most of it done."
"Yeah, just have to finish this frame and then drop the box spring and mattress on it. Do you want to text your sister and let her know we'll be leaving soon?"
"Sure," Amber says and yawns. She looks absolutely adorable half-asleep.
We finish with the mattress, and the guest room is presentable. Amber will have plenty of room to put the few things that she acquired today in the empty dresser. Surprisingly, the drawers were already empty. The rest of the room, however, had been a disaster.
"Do you want to grab your bags and put your stuff away?" I ask and exhale a breath.
The bag with the dress that I bought her. I'd forgotten about it. About the fact that I shoved it into my bedroom, the same room she'd been occupying alone for quite some time.
I meet her stare, but she doesn't say a word. If she knows the dress is in the bag, she hasn't even given the slightest hint. She's also no longer asking what's inside, but maybe she succumbed to the fact that I was going to make her wait.
But for how long?
And why the hell did I think it was a good idea to buythatdress? I don't want any other man ogling her in it.
My pants tighten, and I grumble as I head for the kitchen. I open the fridge. I'll need to restock if Amber is going to be living here, not that she can't buy her own groceries, but I also don't want her thinking that I live on takeout. Because I don't. Well, not usually.
