Page 59 of Defensive Desire

Yeah, maybe I do need the distraction. Just a couple of days away from the noise of the locker room. But I also hate the thought of not seeing her.

I tap out a quick reply.

Not sure yet. Let you know.

I grab my stuff and head out. My body’s worn from the drills, but my mind’s buzzing with thoughts of her. I know exactly where I’m going.

Because every day for the past three days, I’ve ended up back at Chapter & Grind right after practice.

And every night, I’ve ended up in Emma’s bed.

I’m still trying to wrap my head around the text from Nate when I park outside Chapter & Grind.

My phone buzzes again, but this time it’s from Emma.“Upstairs. Door’s unlocked. Bring your hot self.”

A low chuckle rumbles from my chest.

Climbing the narrow stairs, my heart picks up speed like it always does when I know I’m about to see her. The last few days have been a blur of early practices, the guys’ chatter about trades, but mostly, it’s been Emma.

I reach the top step and knock once before nudging the door open.

“Hey—”

Emma’s standing in the small living room, barefoot, wearing yoga pants that cling to her legs and an oversized sweater that slips off one shoulder. Her hair’s in a messy bun, and she’s holding a wooden spoon like she’s mid-stir.

My mouth goes dry.

“Hey,” I murmur, stepping inside and kicking the door shut behind me.

She grins, all soft and sweet, and gestures around. “Welcome to today's version of chaos.”

I take a slow look around. I've always liked it up here. It’s... cozy.

Soft yellow light from mismatched lamps. Potted plants hanging from hooks and set on the windowsill. A cluttered bookshelf teeming with paperbacks and notebooks. The couch is draped with a colorful quilt, and there’s a hockey romance novel lying facedown on the cushion.

I smirk, picking up the newest addition to her upstairs living quarters.

“Some light reading?”

Emma’s cheeks flush, and she lunges for the book, tucking it under a throw pillow.

“It'sresearch,” she insists. “For understanding my target audience.”

“Uh-huh.” I step closer, dropping my bag on the floor. “You know, you could just ask me. After all, I already am a real life hockey God.”

She rolls her eyes, but I see the shy smile she’s fighting to suppress. “I like to get into the mindset. Plus, it’s fun.”

I brush my hand over her hip, tugging her against me. “You think about me when you’re reading them?”

Her breath hitches, and that blush gets even deeper. “Maybe.”

I lean down, nuzzling her neck. “You’re something else, Coffee Witch.”

Her fingers twist into the front of my shirt, but just as I’m about to kiss her, something hisses from the kitchen downstairs.

Emma’s eyes widen. “Oh crap! The sauce!”

She darts away, and I follow her downstairs and into the kitchen. The scent of tomatoes and garlic fills the space, and I spot a bubbling pot on the stove.

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