Page 66 of Wild Blades

I take a quick shower, brush my teeth, pull on a pair of black boxers, and nothing else because I’m ballsy like that, and step out into the living area.

“Well, at least now we’ve both seen each other naked we’re even.” That photograph of her hanging in her hallway… well, let’s just say it was that, combined with her climax sounds she made the other night, that made me come quicker than I ever have in the shower on Sunday morning and again last night.

“That’s dressed?” Kali draws an invisible line up and down my body, looking uncomfortable with my choice of clothing.

“Yup.” Fuck it. I want to see what she does and if my nakedness makes her curious or uncomfortable. I move over to the kitchen and grab fruit from the fridge to make myself a smoothie. “Want one?” I point to the blender.

“Sure.” Tentatively she sits on the other side of the small kitchen island, keeping her head down while staring at her phone. I don’t think she is doing anything on it. She just can’t bring herself to look at me.

Pulling off her black fitted blazer, she looks impeccable today in another pair of high-waisted jeans and a plain black fitted tee. She pulls off chic and casual with ease and looks fucking hot in everything she wears. Better naked though. I know this now I've seen that photo of her in her house.

“I’ve posted stories, posts to your feed, and videos of our day on Saturday with Rory and from your game last night.” Her fingers fly across her screen.

“You were there last night?”

“Yes,” she mumbles.

“Where were you sitting?” I didn’t see her, and she didn’t seek me out, which is unusual. For the past two weeks, she’s attended every game and has been the first person I speak to as soon as I come off the ice with instructions on press expectations, who I’m to speak to, and who to take photos with for socials. I often struggle to keep up with her busy business brain of ways to make me look good, although it’s kind of a turn on.

Not a turn on.

It’s nice. Fine. Good. She’s just doing her job.

“I was just hovering. Stayed for the first two periods.” She continues to focus on her phone.

“You didn’t stay to watch us win?”Odd.

“You’ve won the last ten games. It’s sort of inevitable at this point in the season, don’t you think?”

She’s not wrong. We’re Stanley Cup winners after all.

“Okay.” Still doesn’t explain why she didn’t stay until the end.

Was she ignoring me?

Feels like she was.

Is she embarrassed about Saturday night? If so, she shouldn’t be.

We’re both adults, and I explained why I couldn’t kiss her, and she agreed,didn’t she?

I replay the conversation in my mind.

Oh fuck, she didn’t.

I explained, and then she didn’t say anything.

I’m a dick. No wonder she didn’t stick around last night.

Still staring at her phone, she shakes her head. “Have you seen what they are saying about us?”

“No.”

She reads the headlines to me. “Is Eagles Defenseman, Wade Collins, 26, dating 34-year-old, ex-supermodel, Kali Roth?” And another. “Who is Kali Roth dating? Model linked to NHL player, Wade Collins.” Turning the phone to let me see the screen, there’s a photo of us at the nightclub together, dancing. Another one of us leaving the club and a few more of us shopping together and entering the axe throwing place. “They think we’re dating.”

“We look great together.” I josh, trying to ease her worry lines.

“I’m getting fired is what this looks like.”

---