Page 42 of My Lucky Charm

“Are you excited?” I ask because I haven’t gotten the ten thousand hints that he hates small talk. “For the games? Traveling with the team, all that stuff?”

He inhales, but I don’t know where the breath goes because as far as I can tell, he never lets it out. Instead, he walks past me and back into the hallway. “I have to shower.”

I forbid my imagination from thinking a single thing about that statement and focus on finding his grocery list.

“I’ll leave my credit card for you. I’ve got a pretty specific diet, and I don’t need much.”

I nod and resist the urge to salute.

He disappears down the hallway, leaving me standing in his kitchen. When he comes back twenty-five minutes later, he’s wearing a suit, rolling a small suitcase, carrying a garment bag, and looking like he just stepped out of my greatest fantasy.

Or into my greatest fantasy. Either. Or both. Like I said before, I’m not picky.

“I’m leaving now,” he says.

“Okay,” I say.

He stands there, watching me, almost like he’s not exactly sure how to walk out the door, which is a good thing because I realize I still have questions.

“Am I allowed to unpack boxes?” I ask.

He frowns. “Why?”

I shrug. “I don’t think you’re ever going to acclimate to this place if you don’t set up your living space.”

He looks around the loft, then back at me. “Fine, but I don’t want a bunch of unnecessary junk in here. I don’t like clutter.”

In his apartment and in his life. No unnecessary things. No unnecessary people.

“Got it,” I say.

“I have to go.” He starts toward the elevator.

“Okay, but—” I step in front of him and nod toward his tie. “May I?”

He grunts, but doesn’t back away, so I reach out and adjust the knot, pat down his shoulders, then stand back and look him over. In truth, I’ve done very little to fix his tie, but I’m trying to make myself seem useful. I nod. “Now, you’re ready.”

His expression doesn’t change, and he doesn’t thank me. Instead, he turns and hits the button for the elevator. It’s coming from the first floor, taking a minute to arrive, so he just stands there.

“Guess you can’t make a quick exit from this place, huh?” I joke.

He glances back over his shoulder and gives me a look that suggests he is not amused.

“Oh, thanks for the key card thing,” I say, walking toward him, because again, I can’t stand the silence. But also because I’m in his apartment. He doesn’t even seem comfortable here, so what hope is there for me?

“Figured you’d need it.”

“Now I have free rein of the arena and your apartment.” I grin. “Jackpot.”

The elevator doors open, but he doesn’t get inside. I look over and find him watching me.

“Free rein?” he asks.

“Are you scared?” I give him a little push toward the elevator, and he reluctantly steps inside. “What secrets will I uncover while you’re gone?”

His gaze flicks to mine, and as the doors close, I raise my hand in a wave. “Good luck with the hockey!”

I realize I’m going to have to brush up on my hockey lingo if I ever expect him to take me seriously.

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