Page 14 of Lucky Laces
Like washing his dishes or throwing in a load of laundry or—you know—keeping his fucking hands and lips and dick to himself at my place of work.
But he’s got the smelling good thing down pat.
He steadies me, hands wrapping around the tops of my shoulders.
“Don’t,” I snap, brushing him off.
Yeah, he’s big and strong and smells good.
But he also kissed another woman in the back hallways of what amounts to my office while I was working several floors below.
And he did it on camera.
Worse?
The arena wasn’t theonlyplace he did it.
Something I discovered just this morning.
When a woman showed up on my porch, looking for the bastard.
“Baby,” he says, stepping close again, but I shove my backpack between us, halting him with all manner of hockey equipment (gloves and skates—because I have a new stick on order and I hope to God it’s come in because I really need to hit something…repeatedly), electronics (laptop and tablet to research, plan, and coordinate with my staff), and office supplies (notepads, pens, sticky notes because there’s something about physically writing a to do list and then crossing things off that feels freaking great).
“Who’s Becca?”I ask, then take advantage of his blip of shock to close the door, to round the hood of my car and start for the rink.
Alas, I don’t have teleportation skills.
Which means my ass is stuck walking into the rink.
And that Jason has the opportunity to use his longer legs to catch up with me.
“Becca is a friend.”
I snort, slant a glance up at him.“I thought you haven’t been able to make friends?”
Guilt rippling across his face.
And calculation.
Trying to come up with an excuse I’ll buy.
“Save it,” I tell him as we approach the rink’s entrance.“If Becca coming to my house because she’s been calling and you haven’t been answering your phone isn’t bad enough?—”
“Like I said, she’s a friend.”
“Her looking for her bra she left behind?—”
He opens his mouth, likely ready to spout more bullshit, but I keep talking.
“—and coincidentally, one that Becca and I found together, underneath my bed?—”
His mouth closes so quickly, his teeth click together.
“Isawyou on camera,” I finish.
“Baby, that was just a weird angle, I was trying to get out of the way and?—”
“AndI have the fucking video in my email, Jason.I saw it live and I’ve watched the tape.You were kissing another woman and touching her?—”
