Page 9 of Pucking Tangled
Waylon stepped inside, shirtless and with his shorts slung low on his hips. His hair was a mess, like heor a womanhad been running their hands through it all night long. He looked like he just rolled out of bed—or maybe he never even made it to one.
When his gaze landed on her, he blinked. “Hey, Blondie,” he said, his voice raspy. “I should have guessed you were a morning person.
She grinned over the rim of her mug. “I’m a coffee person. Let’s not get the two confused.”
He chuckled and nodded in agreement as he made his way to the counter and pulled out a blue Lakehead Thunderwolves mug. He poured the still-warm coffee into his cup and added a splash of almond milk, not speaking again until after his first sip.
“You missed one hell of a party last night. You didn’t even have to call the cops.”
“I considered it,” she snorted. “But I didn’t want to get evicted.”
He smirked.
“Has that happened before?”
“The cops showing up?” Waylon shook his head. “Nah. Owen wouldneverlet us get that out of hand.”
He leaned against the counter, his mug cradled in both of his hands like it was a lifeline. In the soft morning light he looked a lot less like the cocky bruiser who shouldered a guy into the boards in last night’s game and more like a cuddly grizzly bear ready to hibernate, minus all the fur of course.
“Are you a morning person?” She refused to ask what she really wanted to know, if he’d ever gone to bed.
Waylon shrugged. “What’s the saying? ‘Old habits die hard.’ My dad’s been waking me up at 5 am ever since I started playing junior league hockey. Morning workout, then he had me out on the ice by the time the sun came up, every day.”
“That doesnotsound like fun.”
He gave her a half smile. “It got me where I am today.”
“Was your dad a coach or something?”
“Former hockey player with NHL dreams. They got cut short when he met my mom and I came along.” His face fell like he was reliving a sour memory. “I wasn’t part of the plan. Then I becametheplan.” Waylon shook his head and downed the rest of his coffee. “Anyway. You settling in okay?”
Interesting. She couldn’t tell what he meant bytheplan but she sensed the tiniest hint of resentment in his voice.
“It’s a little chaotic, that’s for sure. It’ll take some getting used to, no doubt,” Mia nodded in response.
For the first time since they met, they were actually having a real conversation with each other. It was refreshing and intriguing, uncovering the man behind the flirty banter and cockyattitude.
“If you’re ever looking for an escape, the detached garage is pretty much off-limits.”
“Ooo. Is that where you all hide the fancy cars and fast motorcycles?”
“No,” he replied a little too quickly.
“Are you going to tell me why it’s off-limits? Casey never mentioned anything about this.” It didn’treallymatter to her. She could park in the driveway like everyone else. But Waylon’s limitations sparked her curiosity.
Mia gasped. “Wait. Is that where you hide from your responsibilities and store all your emotional baggage?”
“Emotional baggage?” Waylon snorted. “For a minute there, I was beginning to think you were not nearly as uptight as I initially thought.”
Ah. Now that felt much better. The universe was returning to normal and they were back on solid ground with one another. Bantering and picking on each other.
“Me? Uptight?”
“All lawyers are uptight, Mia Abbott. Especially the ones who move in across the hall.”
Waylon set his empty coffee mug in the sink and headed for the stairs.
“You know, Waylon, you don’t have to try so hard to pretend to be an asshole. You can let people in once in a while,” she said as he continued to walk away.
