Page 10 of Flirty Pucking Wolf

Now Coach is smirking at me. “You knowyour sisterand I have the room next to yours, right?”

Fuck my life.

Mal backhands Coach in the stomach, and he melodramatically groans and bends over like she hit him with a shovel.

“No worries,” my sister says. “It’s Liam’s turn to wear the ball gag.”

Sophie lets out a bark of laughter, but I swear I throw up in my mouth a bit.

My sister wiggles a finger between me and Sophie.

“Is there something going on with you two?” she asks.

“No!” we exclaim in unison, making her and Coach laugh.

“I’m sleeping on the couch,” Sophie says.

Not what I was expecting to hear.

“You are?” I ask.

She looks at me like I’m insane.

“Aye, where else would I sleep? I’m not sharing a bed with you!”

For the first time, she’s sounding Scottish and reminding me of her brother. Yeah, think about her brother, a man bigger and stronger than I am. One I consider a close friend. I have no intention of anything happening, no matter how attractive I may find her. We can share a bed, and I can control myself. Unless…maybe she can’t control herself? A slow smile spreads across my face.

“Sleep well,” Coach says, tugging Mallory toward their door.

“See you in the morning!” Mallory says with a big grin on her face.

I open the door and step back so Sophie can enter first. It’s the same as her room—a king-size bed, a pull-out sofa bed, fridge, microwave, bathroom. It’s nice but nothing special. I pull the cushions off the sofa.

“What are you doing?” Sophie asks.

I’d think it’s obvious. “Making up the sofa bed?” I can’t control the hesitation at the end of my sentence.

She shakes her head.

“I just need a pillow and a blanket. I’ll be fine. I’ve slept on plenty of sofas,” she says.

I know she’s tiny, so she’ll fit much better on the sofa than I will, but I’m too much of a gentleman to automatically take the bed. “No,” I say, “You take the bed, and I’ll take the couch.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re being ridiculous, Trevor. You have an important hockey game tomorrow. You need to get a good night’s sleep so you’re well-rested. I’m fine on the sofa. Stop arguing with me.” She gestures toward the bathroom. “Okay to use the bathroom to get changed, or do you want it first?”

I can tell by the stubborn set to her chin there’s no point in arguing. I sweep a hand toward the bathroom. “Go ahead. I’ll change out here.”

She stops short on her trek to the bathroom. The way her gaze flickers down my body and then to the bed, paired with her cheeks going red makes me think that the fact that I’m going to be sleeping in something other than jeans and a T-shirt is just occurring to her. If I was alone, I’d be sleeping naked. If I wasn’t alone, I’d be sleeping naked. But she’s here, so I’ll sleep in my boxer briefs. After a moment, she gives me a nod and goes into the bathroom. The click of the lock behind her sounds like a shotgun blast. I try not to take it personally. She doesn’t know me, and it’s most likely a habit. It’s ridiculous to be offended by a locked bathroom door. What did I want her to do? Leave it wide open while she takes a crap? Stop being a goober, Trev.

Goober.I chuckle. I picked that up from my nephews. My older brother, Ethan, being perfect as usual, has two wonderful sons, EJ and Matt. I love those boys. The only thing he ever failed at was marriage, and that wasn’t his fault. He would have stuck it out, but his ex-wife did them both a favor by recognizing they weren’t happy and weren’t going to be happy. She also loved the boys enough to realize their sons would be better off with Ethan having custody. I don’t know that I could be that unselfish. That’s part of the reason I’m never going to put myself in that position.

Speaking of positions, I grab a couple of pillows off my bed and get the bedding for the pull-out sofa from the closet. I don’t care that Sophie says she’ll be fine sleeping there. That can’t be as comfortable as having the space of a bed. The least I can do is make it cozy. I’m just spreading the blanket as she leaves the bathroom.

“Trevor, you didn’t have to do that. Thank you!”

I look up and my heart does the cha-cha dance I need to learn. She’s fricking adorable in her white shorts with hearts that match her hot-pink tank top. I’m trying so hard not to look at her breasts, but it’s difficult. They are high and firm. Not more than a handful, but that’s plenty, as far as I’m concerned. Her long blonde hair is in a loose braid. What gets me are the fuchsia plastic eyeglass frames perched on her nose.

“You wear glasses,” I say in wonder.

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