Behind the Net: a grumpy sunshine hockey romance

“DO YOU HAVE EVERYTHING YOU NEED?” I ask Hayden later that night in my parents’ living room.

The guys didn’t have a place to stay because Hayden’s a twenty-three-year-old rookie who’s terrible at planning. We couldn’t let them sleep on the bus—they’d freeze—so they’re staying at my parents’ place. The drunkest players are already snoring on the floor, covered in blankets that I dropped over them.

My dad is going to lose his mind with excitement tomorrow. I bet he’ll make everyone pancakes.

Hayden waves me off. “We’re good.” His gaze flicks over my shoulder to where Jamie’s waiting.

My stomach flutters. Everyone saw us kiss at midnight. After, Rory gave me an I told you so look.

“Okay.” I give Hayden and Rory, who’s on the couch, a wave. “Good night.”

Rory winks. “Night, Pips. Don’t let Streicher keep you up all night.”

My face burns red as we head up the stairs, and my body hums with wound-up energy. I’ve been buzzing with anticipation for hours.

I hide a smile as we reach the upstairs landing, and his hand slips into mine. Outside my bedroom door, we pause, and the tension in the air grows as he looks down at me with a hot look.

“Hi,” I whisper.

His eyes warm, and he presses a kiss onto my mouth. His tongue parts my lips, and I lean into him as he strokes into me, so warm and careful. He walks me back until I’m against my bedroom door, and when his hand comes to my hair, he angles my head back so he can get deeper.

Arousal thrums between my legs.

He breaks the kiss with a low noise of frustration and leans his forehead against mine.

“We can’t,” he murmurs. “Not here. Your parents are in the other room.”

“We can be quiet.” I bite my bottom lip, swollen from kissing him, and offer him a mischievous look.

“Maybe you can, but I don’t know if I can.” He drags in a deep breath, and for a moment, I think he’s going to cave, but he shakes his head. “We can’t, songbird. I want to so fucking badly, you have no idea.” He takes my hand and puts it over his cock.

He’s fully hard, and when I stroke him over the fabric, his eyes close.

“Fuck,” he breathes before he pulls away from my touch. “No.” He drops a firm kiss on my lips. “Good night.”

I arch a brow at him, and he points at my bedroom door.

“Now,” he says in a firm tone, although his eyes are full of amusement.

I let out a silent chuckle. “Good night, bossy.”

A minute later, I’m getting undressed, about to put my pajamas on, when the jersey catches my eye, and instead of sleeping in an old t-shirt, I pull the jersey on over my bare skin.

That low-lying arousal simmering under my skin begins to boil as the jersey brushes my nipples, and they prick. I ignore the ache between my legs and climb into bed.

Through the wall, I hear the squeak of the bed in the guest bedroom as he settles in, and picturing his feet hanging off the end makes me chuckle.

Something funny? he texts.

I grin at my phone. I’m sorry you’re in the world’s tiniest bed.

It’s fine.

Thank you again for the jersey. I love it.

I open my camera app and snap a pic of me wearing it before sending it to him. Only my shoulders are visible because I’m tucked under the blankets.

Through the wall, I hear a low groan. You’re wearing it to bed? Fuck, songbird. I’m trying not to get turned on in your parents’ house.

Lust shoots through me, and my gaze flicks to the wall separating us. I picture him lying there, doing that eyes closed, deep breathing thing he does when he’s trying to control himself. Heat gathers low in my belly, and I squeeze my thighs together.

After flying high tonight from singing on stage and Jamie and I telling each other the truth, I feel bold and brave.

It’s all I’m wearing, I respond.

Jesus Christ. That’s so fucking hot. That isn’t why I bought it for you… but now that’s all I can imagine.

My mouth twists into a coy, pleased smile. There’s a long pause before another text pops up. You’re sure you can be quiet?

Yes, I text back while my heart slams against the front wall of my chest.

I listen to the bed creak as he gets up and softly pads down the hall to my room. My door opens and he steps inside, leaning against the closed door. He takes me in, lying in bed, wearing a jersey with his name on it, and his gaze rakes down the bed before returning to my face. The thick ridge of his hard cock under his sweatpants sends a thrill through me.

“Hi,” he murmurs.

“Hi.” I bite my lip, and his gaze follows the motion, darkening even more. He strides over to the bed, and it dips as he places his hands on either side of my head, hovering over me with a heated look in his eyes.

Between my legs, the ache intensifies, and I can’t look away from him.

“You need to be very, very quiet, songbird. Not a single noise.” His breath tickles my face. “Understand?”

I nod, sighing out a breath. I’d say anything to get his mouth on me again.

“Good.”

He leans down to kiss me.