Dirty Talker (Slayers Hockey #4) - Mira Lyn Kelly Page 0,37

back. “Yeah?”

This is the reason I called him. For all the shit he gives, Axe has been known to offer some pretty solid advice.

“You’re gonna have to think like a bunny.”

I cough. “What the fuck does that mean?”

This guy is going into the boards so hard next time we hit the ice.

“It means, you gotta work your assets, dipshit. Be casual, like you dig what’s going on between you, but if it’s over thirty seconds from now, you’re walking away smiling. No moony-eyed confessions about how she feeds your soul or any of that bullshit. Give her what she wants—and the fact that you’re calling me tells me whatever went down last night was good enough that she’s going to want more. So be easy. No threat. Just another pro-hockey player with all the fixin’s, available if she’s into it. And then when she is… make it count. Make it so good, she has to think long and fucking hard about what her type is, after all.” A deep, satisfied breath sounds through the line. “Be the bunny, dude.”

Harlow

I’m not sure what to expect when I get out of the shower, but Wade picking up the suite, muttering something about his teammate being an epic asshole, isn’t it. He doesn’t elaborate, instead asking if I’m feeling more pancakes or omelets, teasing me about my runner’s guilt, and then hopping in the shower himself.

No weird vibes. No awkward tension.

It’s nice. Normal.

Okay, yes, maybe I’m aware of Wade on a level I wasn’t before.

And maybe I’m thinking about the things we did and how incredibly good he was at doing them. Yes.

But that’s to be expected.

It would be more weird if I didn’t, especially since the man took me to places no man has taken me before.

So… a weirdly normal start to a day I was worried might be just plain weird.

We have pancakes at this cute place in the next town over. Wade is all grins, some wolfish flirting, and as easygoing as a girl aiming for a single night of fun could ask for.

Sure, every so often, I need a minute to shake off a memory so carnal, so visceral I can still practically feel him inside of me. But again… to be expected.

Last night didn’t change anything other than to restore the ego he’s always accusing me of trying to take out.

We spend most of the afternoon and evening helping Walt and Janie move into the house they won’t be living in until they get back from their honeymoon. After, we eat pizza on the floor in the empty space where the dining room set will go and play Monopoly surrounded by boxes in the living room. With the limited audience, there’s a minimum of showy relationship stuff, but the frequent contact that’s become almost second nature between us remains.

The laughter still comes as easily as the conversation. And those glancing check-ins still feel as uncomplicated and reassuring as they have since Wade picked me up that first afternoon. Maybe more.

For a woman who’s never really had the opportunity for casual sex, I’m kind of feeling like I nailed this thing.

Yes, yes, maybe I find my eyes on him a bit more often. But now I know what’s under those clothes, and it’s impressive.

Which is a completely reasonable, normal, and objective observation.

I totally nailed this thing.

That’s what I’m thinking as we pull into the hotel. It’s after ten and the stars are out. The lot’s as empty as it was when we got in last night. We walk up to the front, but I can still hear the echoes of our breathless laughter and feel the urgency and pull of all that hurry, faster, please lingering in the air around us.

Wade chats in the elevator, his arm thrown around me in a casual hold. No big deal.

So why are there three hundred butterflies batting around my belly?

The doors slide open at our floor. The hall is empty, silent. No trace of our stumbling desperation from the night before. But I can feel the achy twist inside and phantom press of his body against mine as we pass the wall between 303 and 305.

Inside our room, Wade closes the door behind us and pulls me in for a hug, thanking me for helping out today. Some distant part of my brain registers that if I hadn’t been there, Kelsey would have. That there’s a reason I’m in this hotel with him…

I try to concentrate, except Wade’s arms are still around