Page 16 of Snapping the Ice
Dipping his head, he said, “I was worried as fuck about you.” His gaze crept to mine. “Can we go inside?” His brows creased.
“Sure.” Fuck Tate. If he showed up unannounced with Lucas in my place, he’d surely start an actual fight and then I’d call the cops. It would be my way out. I slid mybackpack off my arm to get my key and unlocked the door. We stepped inside.
He studied my apartment, strolling around the main room, and fell into the corner of the sofa. “Have you had dinner yet?” He uncurled his thick arm across the back cushions.
I cocked my head. He sure was making himself at home. But it felt calming, having him in my place. Whenever Tate had been here, I’d always felt like I was walking on eggshells. “Nope. I was thinking of DoorDashing.”
“Sounds good to me. You don’t mind, do you?” He angled himself toward me.
“No, of course not.” I set my backpack on my dinette and fished my phone from the side pocket. “What do you like?”
“I should stick to healthy food with our nutrition program. How about Thai? There’s usually a salmon dish that’s good.” His gaze roamed my body and stopped just under my navel for a beat, then veered away.
Was he looking at my dick? No, I was seeing things. “There’s an excellent Thai restaurant around the corner. I’ll order from them.” I opened the app and ordered the salmon dish for him and some drunken noodles for me. Speaking of drunken. “I have some beer or wine.”
“Oh, a beer would be awesome.” He offered a broad smile.
“Okay.” I strolled into my kitchen, opened my refrigerator and grabbed two canned beers. Taking a calming breath, I brought them to the couch and dropped in beside him. “Here.” I handed him a beer and snicked one open for myself. I glanced at him, his muscles pulling his t-shirt tight across his chest and shoulders and his thigh muscles thick inside his jeans. My cock woke. He was gorgeous. How the hell was he here in my apartment? I should pinch myself. Did I pass out on the way home?
“What are you thinking?” He sipped his beer and arched a brow.
“I’m a little surprised you’re sitting here with me.” Might as well tell him the truth. I drank the beer, the cool bubbles calming the fluttering of my insides.
He inched closer to me. “I’m not a stalker or anything, okay? I don’t normally do shit like this.” He fingered the pull tab on his can. “My conscience wouldn’t allow me to go home and leave you withhim.”
“You didn’t, uh…” I furrowed my brows. “Wait around the studio for me to leave, did you?”
“I did.” With a soft snicker, he rubbed his brows. “I found shit to do, but kept an eye on the studio and saw when Tate left.” His cheeks pinked. “I peeked inside the door to be sure you were okay. You were working at your desk.”
I widened my eyes. “I didn’t even notice.” I scratched the back of my head. “I get lost in my work sometimes.” And I’d kept thinking about the scene in the coffee shop.
“Listen, I know you said you didn’t need help. But I searched Google while I waited for you and…” He rocked once. “I’m going to help you.” He pressed his lips together. “He’s already hit you once. Guys like that only get worse.”
My stomach knotted, and I hung my head. Softly, I said, “I know.” Why did this hockey player, with so much going for him, want to help me? My gaze found his. “I really appreciate your offer, but?—”
“No buts.” He grabbed my free hand. “I’m here for you.”
A knock filled the apartment.
“Oh, that must be our food.” Because Tate wouldn’t have knocked. As he freed my hand, I stood and swung the door open. Our bag of food sat on the entry.
“Let me help you with that.” Lucas stepped from behind me, picked up the bag and brought it to the dinette. “Grab some plates.” He pulled food containers from the bag.
“Sure.” Entering the kitchen, I took plates from an upper cabinet and silverware from a drawer.
“This looks delicious.” He strode to the main room, retrieved our beers from the coffee table and set them on the dinette.
After setting the plates and silverware down, I dropped into the chair next to his and plated my food. I watched him put rice and salmon on his plate. I barely knew him, yet he was so willing to disrupt his life for me. “Tell me more about yourself.”
He smirked. “I’m a hockey player, I’m from Connecticut and I’m from a hockey family.” He cut some salmon and stuffed it into his mouth. “Damn, that’s good.” He nodded.
“I already know that.” Well, most of it. I dipped my fork in my noodles and chicken and took a bite. It was spicy, but the coconut cut it down a notch.
“So, when I say I’m from a hockey family, I mean a real hockey family.” He gave me a pointed look. “Not only is my brother a center for the Cardinals, but my dad played for Philly and now he’s an assistant manager for the Newark Eagles.”
“What sort of team is that?” I sipped my beer. Lucas was an East coaster, through and through.
“It’s another PHL team.” He cut into his salmon. “So yeah, my dad knows people.” His gaze snapped to mine. “But I’m here because of my ability.”
