Page 194 of Playing the Pucking Game
She was wearing my T-shirt.
She snuck into my room, stole my T-shirt, and then proceeded to wear it to bed.
Those thoughts have been on constant circulation in my head since I woke up the other morning with enough light spilling in around the side of the curtains for me to see her.
She was wearing my T-shirt and the smallest, sexiest pair of panties.
Fuck, I’m getting hard now just thinking about it.
It’s been three days since I made this discovery. Three freaking days, and I can’t get it out of my head.
It’s driving me insane.
No. She is driving me insane.
We’ve barely seen each other since, unless I’ve been in the trainers’ room with her. Every morning I’ve been up before her, and every night I’ve been out later.
I hate it.
I’m not sure when everything started changing, but it has. I no longer want to be at VIP events, being photographed for someone else’s gain. I don’t want to be out in clubs or doing meetand greets—okay, okay, I do want to do those because I fucking love our fans, but that’s not the point.
I want to be at home.
With her.
Every single night this week, once I’ve gotten in, I’ve showered and abandoned my bedroom, my bed, in favor of hers.
Does that mean she wants me there? I’m not entirely sure. But she isn’t doing anything to stop me, so I’m taking that as an invitation.
Each time I crawl into her bed, I’m hard. It doesn’t matter that I’ve jerked off in the shower to try to combat it. The thought of discovering what she’s chosen to wear and pulling her hot body into mine is enough to have me ready and raring to go.
I’m pretty sure she’s feeling equally as horny, the way she rubs her ass against my dick.
Lifting my hand, I bite down on my knuckles to stop me from groaning out loud.
She’s taunting me.
Tempting me.
Making me lose my goddamn mind.
It’s fucking working.
“Everything okay?” Fletch asks from across the table, his eyes dancing with amusement as he watches me fight my internal battle with my libido.
My hand drops like a rock into my lap.
“Yep, I’m good,” I say, a little too enthusiastically. “Excited for the game tomorrow.”
His brow quirks in question before Killer drags him into conversation about something he read online.
We’re at a restaurant of Handsy’s choosing. It’s turned into a thing whenever we’re on the road. He wants decent food that he hasn’t attempted to cook himself, and we’re all more than happy to tag along for the ride.
He’s sitting at the head of the table with his hands on his stomach, looking very pleased with himself, while Monroe chats away about something Handsy is clearly not interested in.
Beside me, Kodie sits quietly, watching everything happening around him.
Meanwhile, somewhere else in the city, Parker is out with Brooke and Leah. My teeth grind at the thought of other guys having their eyes on her.
