Page 16 of Power Move
“Maxim’s bag is huge. He definitely overpacks.” I add sneakers and my toiletries kit. “But that’s helpful if someone forgets something.”
He gives me a self-deprecating smile. “That’s what my teammates say about me.”
“I’m only good if they need movie recommendations.”
Laughing, he picks up my tablet and charger from the bedside table. “Don’t forget these. Can’t watch those movies without them.”
“I won’t.” I add them to the padded compartment within the suitcase, then zip it closed. “That’s about it.”
Taking the hand I offer him, he allows me to pull him to standing. He slides his hands up my chest and loops them around my neck. “Text me later?”
Clamping my hands on his waist, I nod. “I will.”
We watch each other for a moment, then lean in, closing the distance, and my heart thuds harder at the way he smiles as our lips meet. He tastes like coffee and cinnamon from the rolls, and his light citrus scent wraps around me, binding us tighter together.
His mouth slants, then opens under mine, parting in an invitation to take things deeper. The lick of his tongue againstmy lips is a slow stroke that revs my desire. Dipping in for a taste only stokes the need for more.
I take another, and another, skimming my lips over his throat, sucking on his lip, my blood thrumming with every groan and sigh. My hands travel under his shirt, sliding up the warm skin of his back. His firm muscles ripple as he arches into my touch.
Strong fingers caress the back of my neck, teasing circles over the skin, sliding into my hair as Sage takes control of the kiss. His back-and-forth switches between being timid and bold are dizzying and so sexy.
Breathless, we come up for air. I smooth his shirt, reluctant to release him, though I need to get going. “I’ll text you when I get to the hotel.”
Sage plays with my hair, his smile once again shy. “If Jonas really ends up bringing bubble wrap, I want pictures.”
Laughing, I step back. “I promise. Come on, I’ll walk you out. Don’t forget the cinnamon rolls.”
“Oh, yeah. I’ll grab them.” We head into the living room. He detours to the kitchen to snag the rolls we boxed up after lunch. I wheel my suitcase to the front door, then grab our coats from the closet and answer a text from my dad about what to get my mom for her birthday.
Sage returns, cinnamon rolls in hand. He slips on his coat, and after another kiss, he’s gone.
I walk through the apartment, double-checking that everything’s in order for me to be gone for a few days. On the kitchen island, there’s a single cinnamon roll on a plate, and a smiley face scrawled onto a napkin. He must have done that when he came in to grab the rolls.
Smoothing my hand over the wrinkled paper, I know I’m in trouble.
It’s only been two weeks since we first said hello. We both have scars and reasons to be cautious. Yet Sage has slipped past my defenses and is now on a breakaway straight to my heart.
CHAPTER 5
SAGE
I’m playingin a Metros game… tonight.
The thought repeats over and over. Each time, the fluttery feeling in my stomach intensifies.
Lugging our suitcases and gear, Morgan and I rush through the opulent lobby of the Metros’ team hotel. The news the team needed us tonight in Edmonton and tomorrow in Seattle because four of their players got food poisoning came while my Slash teammates and I were boarding our bus, about to head to Chicago for a two game trip.
It’s been a hectic morning, starting with rushing back home to grab our passports, so we could join the Metros on rest of their road trip. We got a direct flight, but arrived too late to take part in the morning skate. Our contact with the team told us to meet the Metros in one of the conference rooms for video review after we checked in and dropped off our stuff in our room.
The thought of having to play tonight without the chance to practice with my new teammates makes my stomach churn. My fingers slide over the new fidget toy Phil dropped into my coat pocket yesterday, bending the orange squishy bracelet into different shapes.
His phone pressed to his ear, Morgan taps my hand, stilling me. He then bumps his shoulder into mine, and grins.
Him being here helps. I hope we’ll get to play on the same line.
Using his thumb, he punches the button for the elevator, and adjusts his phone. “Thanks, Mom. Yes, I’ll tell Sage you wished him good luck too.”
I smile at that. “Thanks, Mrs. Rhodes.” His mom is so nice. My parents haven’t texted me back yet, but that’s not unusual. Their jobs take up a lot of their time. Our relationship primarily consists of communicating via texts that are light on details, so there’s less of a chance we’ll stress each other out.
