Page 105 of Playing the Pucking Game
Turning around, I start toward my bedroom when another door opens and Parker pokes her head out.
“They didn’t need to leave because of me.”
My eyes drop to the Bandits zip-up hoodie and sleep shorts she’s wearing that expose her legs.
“They didn’t. They were heading out anyway.”
“Right.”
“I told them to keep you staying here to themselves.”
She nods in appreciation. “Not sure how I feel about being your dirty little secret, Storm,” she muses as she slips past me and into the kitchen for a bottle of water.
“Most women would pay good money to be in that position.”
“Good thing I’m not most women, then, isn’t it?” she asks before twisting the lid off and drinking almost half the bottle.
“What happened tonight, Parker?”
She shrugs one shoulder as she lowers the bottle to the counter.
“He wasn’t worthy,” she says, as if it explains everything.
“And he abandoned you in the middle of a downpour?” I ask, gesturing to the puddle that’s still in the entryway.
She laughs. “No. I needed some air, so I walked.”
“Back from The Carlton.”
“Hmm,” she mumbles.She’s lying.“Did you want me to look at your leg before I go to bed?”
28
PARKER
Linc stares at me. A small frown pinches his brows as he weighs his options.
For a moment, a little rejection trickles through my veins, but then I remember where we are and what we’re doing and it shifts to disappointment that for once in his life, he’s going to do the right thing.
He’s trying—in more ways than one—and I really appreciate what he’s doing.
“It’ll be okay. We should probably just head to bed.”
He’s right, but worry tugs at me.
“Let me just look quickly. I’ll worry all night otherwise.”
“You really don’t?—’
“Please.”
He sighs.
“Okay,” he concedes before taking a step back.
“Strip down to your boxers and go lie on your bed.”
“Who says I’m wearing any?” he teases.
