Tripping (Iced #2) - Kristine Allen Page 0,18
house.”
That was my excuse I’d used when I’d been with Bleu—that I was working on some projects at my house.
“He’s seventy-five,” Alex kicked in, and I glared at him for not being on my side. His eyes widened, and a slow grin spread across his face. Not wanting to hear it from anyone, I gave him a minute shake of my head.
The time wasn’t important, but I glanced at my watch. “Well, I have to get going. I’ll see you Monday morning.”
Several of them laughed at my blatant brush-off.
We had tomorrow off and would resume training Monday. Pushing through the pack that refused to move, I gave a congenial wave over my shoulder and rushed to my truck, loosening my tie as I climbed in. Before Bleu could change her mind, I drove straight to her house.
The lights in the living room cast a warm glow out into the yard as I pulled up. My hands were clammy, and my heart flipped around against my ribs. It was crazy. I hadn’t experienced anything like it in years. Not since… well, it didn’t matter.
Not wasting a minute, I jumped out of the truck and approached the porch. The board was still holding at the top where I’d fixed it for Bleu. I made a mental note to bring some tools the next time I came to fix her broken porch swing. Then, like every time I came by, I hoped there would be a next time.
My knuckles rapped at the aged wood, and my heart rate escalated. Nervous as a motherfucker, I ran a hand over my hair that was beginning to grow back. It was a thing I did every season. Shaved it before the first preseason game, then let it grow after Christmas. I had no idea why. Some hockey rituals couldn’t be explained.
The air sucked from my lungs when the door swung open and her beautiful face was in my view. Each time I’d seen her, she’d never had more makeup on than some mascara. Or at least it didn’t seem like it. She didn’t need it, though. She was absolutely stunning exactly the way she was.
“Hi,” she softly whispered.
“Hi,” I replied, standing on her porch like a dolt.
“You want to come in, or are we talking at the door all night?” she asked with a subdued smirk. The cool air blew a tendril of her flaming curls across her face, and without a thought, I reached out to move it.
A soft gasp escaped her full lips with the tantalizing little freckle, and my fingertips tingled where they brushed her soft skin. The feeling traveled down to my dick, causing it to stir in my pants.
Jesus, just from a featherlight touch to her skin. Friends, friends, friends.
Wrestling with my libido, I took a step toward her. At first, I thought she was going to let me into her space, but at the last minute she stepped back. The door opened further, and I went inside. She closed it behind us and searched my face briefly before turning to the living room.
It took Herculean effort not to stare at her ass and how it gently wiggled in the thin cotton of her sleeping pants. Okay, I might have glanced at it a couple of times on the way to the couch.
Maybe three—the llamas were kind of cute.
“Oh, before I forget,” I said while reaching into my pocket. Producing the small black disk of rubber, I held it closer to her.
“What’s this?” she questioned with a confused furrow of her forehead. Her mesmerizing hazel eyes were more green than gold that night, and I momentarily got lost in them. I cleared my throat and dropped my gaze to the item.
“It’s a puck. Several of us signed it.” The silver Sharpie we used glittered slightly in the lights of her home.
She chuckled, and the musical quality of her laughter sent chills down my spine. “I can see that. But why are you giving it to me?”
Knowing she didn’t like hockey, it did seem like a weird thing, but she’d misunderstood and I hadn’t explained. “It’s for your brother,” I replied with a shrug, starting to wonder if it had been a dumb idea.
Her eyes lit up as her pretty lips curled in happiness. “That’s so cool of you. I wish he was still awake, but the excitement of the game, all the junk food, and the drive home wore him out. Thank you again for the tickets. You have no idea