Page 65 of Off The Ice

But I didn’t miss it.

“You mean it?” he asked, brows furrowed. “You really want to come?”

“Of course! If you’re really offering, that is!” I smiled at him, unable to suppress my excitement at the invitation.

Warmth spread through my chest, accompanied by the blissful weight of relief.

Liam Brynn—the most sought-after, most aggressively private player in the league—was inviting me to his game. As if he wanted me there. Like he cared if I came.

Which meant,maybehe didn’t hate me as much as I feared he did. Maybe he even more than just tolerated me.

“Okay.” He nodded, grinning. “I’ll set it up.”

Then his eyes went to the papers on the table, and his brows furrowed once more.

“What’s this?” he said, picking up one of the listings that had my highlighting all over it.

His shoulders tensed as he frowned down at the paper.

“Oh!” I said, my words feeling heavier than I expected. “I was just about to tell you. I’m working my way through apartment listings. It’s kind of overwhelming.”

His voice was flat when he finally spoke. “You’re leaving.”

“I mean, yeah.” I shrugged, aiming for nonchalance. “I’ve already been here two weeks. I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

His jaw clenched slightly at that.

“I’ve found a couple of decent places,” I continued, utterly self-conscious as he skimmed through listing after listing.

“No,” he said simply, dropping the papers to the table.

“No?” I asked, voice airy.

“No,” he repeated firmly, a look of displeasure etched on his face. “Cassie, these places areawful.There’s no way you’re moving into any of these.”

“Hey, some of them are okay,” I defended my listings. “They’re all in the city, so I’m close to work.”

He scoffed. “In the shittiest parts of town.”

I blushed. “Well, my price range isn’t exactly getting me into Beacon Hill.”

“That’s why you’re here.” He gestured. “Until you find somewhere suitable.”

“Uh, that could take a while.”

“Who cares?” he countered, tone ringing with annoyance.

“Well, how about this one?” I said, sorting through the papers until I found the one I was looking for. “This is in a decent area,andI can afford it.”

“What the fuck.” He practically snarled down at the paper, squinting at the words. “Did youreadthe part about your potential ‘roomie’ being a sixty-four-year-old man?”

“We’ll have separate bathrooms!” I argued.

“No, you fucking won’t because you’re not living with some random man!”

“News flash,I already am,” I argued, getting worked up.

It’s not like Iwantedto go live in a shitty apartment that I could still barely afford. But I didn’t have many options, and Irefusedto be a burden for any longer than necessary.

---