Page 14 of Behind the Net

A couple passes us and we smile at them. My face is bright red. When they’re gone, we dissolve into giggles again.

Hazel throws a stick for Daisy, and Daisy takes off after it. For the rest of the walk, Hazel tells me about her snooty coworkers at the yoga studio, and by the time we return to her car, my face hurts from laughing. Daisy’s coated in a layer of mud from running through puddles, but she has that exhausted, happy dog look on her little face.

“Come on,” I say to her, gesturing to the towel-covered back seat. “Jump up.”

She stares at me before she launches into a full-body shake, tossing mud and dirty puddle water all over me. I throw my hands up, but it’s too late.

On the other side of the car, Hazel’s laughing her ass off. She takes a photo of me and smiles at the result.

I give her a strained smile. “The mud is in my hair, isn’t it?”

“Yep.” She grins.

* * *

An hour later, Daisy’s clean and curled up on the couch in the living room while I’m in the shower, washing the dirt out of my hair. Jamie won’t be home until later this afternoon, so I’m singing a Coldplay song. I sing it the way I would have recorded it, soft in some parts and raw in others.

The bathroom acoustics are amazing, and there’s something about the hot water running down my skin and the smell of my conditioner that makes me feel like this is my own little world, all by myself, where no one can touch me.

I finish the song, turn off the water, and towel-dry my hair before I wrap it around me and step out of the bathroom to check on Daisy.

Jamie Streicher is standing in his living room, staring at me in my towel.

CHAPTER7

JAMIE

My brain isn’t working.

That’s the only explanation for why I’m just standing here, staring at an almost-naked Pippa in a tiny towel. Her wet hair cascades around her shoulders, and above the towel she clutches to her chest, my gaze snags on her cleavage. Freckles dot across her collarbone, just like on her face.

She was singing in the shower, and it was the sweetest sound I’d ever heard. I couldn’t move.

Something rushes in my blood—arousal. Attraction. Sparks skitter down my spine as I take in her legs. Her skin looks so soft.

Whether I want to be or not, I’m still so attracted to this girl.

Her face is going bright red. Her toenails are painted mint green. Why is that so fucking cute? I stare at her bottom lip. Was it always so plush like that? Blood hurries to my cock, and I turn around.

“What are you doing?” I demand. It comes out harsher than I mean.

“Daisy got mud all over me, and I didn’t realize you’d be home so early—”

“It’s fine.” She wasn’t supposed to be here when I got home. This can only work if I never see her.

Who the fuck am I fooling? It isn’t working. I’ve been thinking about her for two weeks, wondering what she and Daisy were doing. She’s been sending me daily emails with updates, and even though I never respond, I look forward to them. I wait for them, refreshing my email while I’m sitting on a plane or between training sessions.

I thought if I didn’t see her, she couldn’t distract me. I was so wrong. I make a frustrated noise in my throat and head to the door.

“I can be out of here right away,” she calls after me.

“I’ll be back at four.” That’s the time I was scheduled to be home, but one of my trainers had to reschedule. I yank my boots on and don’t look back.

In the elevator, I close my eyes and blow out a long breath in a pathetic attempt to center myself. My phone buzzes in my back pocket, and when I pull it out, I see a photo of me and my mom flashing across the screen with her incoming call.

It’s the reminder I need. I can barely handle hockey plus taking care of my mom, let alone losing my head over some girl. It’s not worth it.

“Hey, Mom,” I answer.

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