Home Game (A Vancouver Wolves Hockey Romance Book 2)

I STOOD in the middle of the guest room, my face hot. If I thought it was hard to act normal around Ryan, three of his hot, athletic friends made it almost impossible. I was giddy with excitement. Mica had slipped me four hundred dollars. I tried to tell him it was too much, but he shook his head and said, “You’re worth it.”

Now the fun part. I could decorate the room, hang the mirror, and make it look guest-worthy. I had this vision of showing Ryan the room once it was together. I wanted it to impress him.

Except, as I soon found out, it’s almost impossible to do any of it with one arm.

A light knock on the door. Mica stuck his head in. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to decorate this room.” I waved the hammer around. “But failing.”

“Let me help,” he walked in.

Mica was nice. He reminded me of a big teddy bear. Less fluff and more muscles, but gentle and soft.

“Can you hang curtain rods?”

“Are you kidding? That was my professional job before I became a hockey player.”

We worked together.

“So how did you meet Ryan?” he asked, casually.

“In a coffee shop.”

“Now you guys live together? Are you his roommate?”

I decided it would only benefit Ryan if I was frank. “I’m homeless.”

Shock. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t have a home. I got hurt and Ryan offered for me to stay here until my arm gets better.”

“For real?”

I turned back to setting up the picture frames on the dresser. “Why doesn’t the team like Ryan?”

He cleared his throat. I gave him a pointed look over my shoulder.

“Last season he checked one of our players, Noah Moore, against the board and Noah got hurt real bad. Noah still hasn’t come back to the game and probably won’t.”

Coldness settled into my stomach. “Did Ryan get in trouble?”

“It was a clean hit. Ryan didn’t even get a penalty.”

My breath punched out of me. “It was an accident?”

“It wasn’t a dirty hit, if that is what you are asking.”

“And now this team doesn’t like him because of that?”

Mica’s ears turned red. “He ended Noah’s career.”

“Did Ryan choose to move here and play on this team?”

He shrugged. “This might be the last place he would have picked.”

“That’s not fair you guys all hate him because of a mistake.” I gave Mica a look.

He lifted his hands. “I know.”

“What does he need to do?”

He looked thoughtful. “When Ryan wins Jensen over, this will blow over.”

“Why? Who is Jensen?”

Mica screwed the last nail into the wall for the curtain rods. “Noah is his best friend.”

We worked together in silence, hanging the curtains together. I felt bad for Ryan, but part of me felt fiercely protective of him. He didn’t deserve to be treated badly by his own team. Maybe Mica would be his friend?

Mica cleared his throat. “So, what happens after your arm is healed?”

I took a step back, admiring the curtains. “I go back to my old life.”

“Just like that?”

I shrugged. “Just like that.”

A knock sounded on the door. I almost tripped over myself to get there. It was Ryan. I squeezed out the door so he couldn’t see inside. He was looking down at me with concern.

“Hi,” I said.

“What’s going on?”

“Mica’s just helping me hang things.”

His eyes narrowed. “You okay?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Can I come in?”

“What about the big reveal?”

“What’s that?”

“When I shout ‘ta-da’ and show you the finished room, and you look amazed.”

He stared down at me for a long second and then he smiled. My entire stomach did a slow flop in response. “You want me to look amazed?”

“No, that look is just going to happen naturally when you see the completed room.”

“Why can’t I see it now?”

“Because.”

He took a deep breath and then gave another smile that almost knocked my socks off. “Is Mica behaving himself?”

I rolled my eyes. “You are seriously going to ask me that?”

He hesitated. “We are going to throw the steaks on.”

“Okay.”

He turned to go.

“This is good, right?” I asked him, referring to the fact that we had people over.

He grinned. “Yeah, not bad.”

SIX HOURS LATER, Ryan and I stood in the guest bedroom. Mica was passed out on the couch, Dylan had staggered out to a cab, and now Justin was snoring in the middle of the guest bed. He didn’t even flinch when Ryan turned on the lights.

“Ta-da,” I said weakly.

Ryan looked around the room. The room was dark grays and whites with some light gray themes worked in. It had become my dream room, with textured throw pillows, beautiful matching furniture, an artistic mirror, and dark curtains. Everything was picture perfect. I personally thought it looked better than a showroom, but I was probably biased.

“Wow. Zoey. This room looks amazing.”

“Are you just saying that because I told you that you needed to be amazed?”

“Not at all. This looks fantastic.”

“When I envisioned showing you, I didn’t think you’d already have your first guest sleeping in the bed.”

He gave a short laugh. “Yeah, don’t think we will get him up.”

We studied Justin who snored softly, clutching one of the fluffy pillows.

“Do you think he’ll puke?”

“Nah.”

“They seem nice.”

“Yeah. They’re good guys.”

I glanced up at him. “Are you drunk?”

“I wouldn’t drive but I’m not loaded.” He stopped short. “Your bed. Mica’s on the couch.”

“I can sleep on the floor.”

“Don’t be silly. You can crash with me.”

Panic caught in my throat. “I don’t need to.”

“Zoey,” he looked around the room. “You’re not sleeping on the floor. And if you insist on that I’m going to have to insist on taking the floor.”

I chewed on my bottom lip. “I don’t take up much room.”

He looked amused. “Come on. I have an early practice tomorrow.”

RYAN’S BED WAS HUGE. It was king-size, with loads of room. I huddled on the edge, listening to the sound of him brushing his teeth in the bathroom. This was weird, but it wasn’t like he would try anything. Ryan treated me like a kid sister. He never checked out my body.

I am safe.

I trusted Ryan. I just had never shared a bed with a real live man before. And this wasn’t how I envisioned my first time. The door opened and then he snapped off the light. I saw his shadowy figure walk towards the bed and then felt the bed move as it depressed beneath his weight. We lay there, side by side, in complete silence for a long moment.

“Thank you, Zoey.”

“For what?”

“For tonight. The guest bedroom looks great.”

I snuggled deeper into the bed. “I like doing that kind of stuff.”

“You’re good at it.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re okay helping Dylan with his expenses tomorrow?”

“Yeah, but I feel guilty for how much I’m charging them.”

“Nah. You’re providing a service and these guys can afford it.”

After I did Dylan’s expenses, I would have $800 to my name. That was more than I had in my bag when I lost it.

“Do you like it here?” I asked Ryan. Already knowing the answer. Ryan wasn’t happy here.

He took a long time answering. “I miss my old life.”

I felt bad for him. “What do you miss the most?”

He rolled over and faced me. His features looked angular in the dark. “My team was my family. I was best friends with all the guys.”

I studied him. Besides tonight, the only people Ryan seemed to hang out with were Krista and me. I thought about what Mica said. Now it was all coming together. Ryan had lost his life too.

“Mica told me your history.”

Silence. “It’s complicated.”

“I told Mica how you helped me. How you literally took some homeless chick off the streets.”

“Zoey, you don’t have to tell people that.”

“He needs to know. You’re a good guy.”

“You’re not homeless anymore, Zoey.”

I felt a wave of loneliness rush over me. This time here with Ryan might be the best moments of my life. I was trying to savor it all, but every day was rushing by. “I will have to leave at some point.”

“Not until we can get you on your feet.”

I let that sink in, hating how the hope in my chest was so bright, it almost hurt.

“Okay.”

“Don’t think about it, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Night.”

“Night Ryan.”

I JARRED AWAKE, my body feeling hot and tight. It disoriented me. My entire body was quivering with intense waves of desire. I held my breath as I tried to orientate myself. Ryan. My back was flush against him, and his hot breath was heavy on my neck. His huge hand was up my tank top, and I felt his fingers slowly play with my sensitive nipple. Shivers of lust rolled down my body, making my stomach flutter wildly. Eyes wide, I worked to even my breath.

Was he awake?

I was more turned on than I have ever been in my life and it mortified me. I needed to extract myself, but these forbidden sensations were too intoxicating.

He ground his hips against me with some force. I could feel his huge arousal, push up against my buttocks. Longing and lust pulsated through me with a dizzying speed. I had never felt like this. Is this what sex was like? Hot friction, intense temptation, wonder, and need?

His big hand, with a single-minded determination, moved down my body and then dipped into my panties.

My mouth opened wordlessly.

His finger slowly slid between my slick folds. My heart hammered so hard, I was sure it would wake him. I felt transfixed, paralyzed. Then his finger moved, and he touched something that was so sensitive, so unbelievably breathtaking, my entire body arched back against him as something electrified my entire body.

That was the moment he woke up.

He went still, both of us breathing hard, his finger still pressing on something deliciously wicked that was pulsing between my legs. My whole body trembled in response to his primal touch.

I was panting.

“Zoey,” he said, his husky voice sounded shocked. It was the dismay in his voice that had me kicking away from him and scrambling off the bed, which was hard to do with only one working arm. I made it to the bathroom and then I shut and locked the door.

I stood with my back against the door, shaking with both lust and mortification.

A soft knock on the door.

“Zoey,” Ryan spoke from the other side.

“It’s fine,” I said, my voice sounding strained. “I’m fine.”

“Can you open the door, please?”

I looked in the mirror. I looked wild. Aroused. Hot and bothered.

“Zoey, please? Please, just open the door.”

I wrapped a huge bath towel around my body, over my tank top and underwear and swung the door open.

Ryan’s face was a mask of concern as he took me in.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he said. “Zoey, you need to know I didn’t do that on purpose. I was asleep.”

“I know.’

“I would never….” He looked frustrated. “You know I would never break your trust like that.”

“I know,” I repeated, trying to look anywhere but at this massive bulge that was straining against his black boxer briefs.

He ran his hand through his hair, making it stick up. “It’s been awhile… sorry… my body thinks it needs sex.”

And now my body thinks it needs sex.

I felt myself turn bright red. “I know. I’m fine.”

Concerned blue eyes looked at me. I couldn’t make eye contact. A couple minutes ago, his fingers were in my panties. He must have known how aroused I was which made it even worse. He, at least, could claim he had been asleep. I had been wide awake, and I hadn’t once tried to stop him.

“We’re good?” he looked at me.

“Totally.” Except for the fact that he had gotten further physically with me than any other guy and he managed to do it in his sleep. I wondered if I would ever be able to look him in the eyes again.

He looked at the watch on his wrist. “Fuck. We have to be at practice in 45 minutes.”

“Okay.” I stole a glance down at him, his enormous arousal straining against his underwear. I felt a wave of heat flush over my face.

He didn’t even flinch. The guy was uninhibited about the fact he had a raging boner in his shorts. “You need to come too. Dylan is bringing his expenses.”

I shut my eyes. “Right.”

“I’m going to go wake the guys.”

“I’ll be right out.”

MICA CLAIMED he was still drunk and unable to drive so they drove with us. We made the ride to the stadium, with Justin and Mica in the back, in complete silence. We stopped for Jugo Juice smoothies for everyone, myself included, and then we walked into the stadium. Ryan stopped with me at security and signed me in as a guest. He walked me into the corridor.

“I have to go change. I’ll let Dylan know you’re here. Just wait near the ice.”

“Okay.” I still couldn’t look at him.

Ryan’s hand had been between my naked thighs.

“Are you okay?”

His finger had slowly, expertly stroked me in the most intimate way.

I swallowed, not making eye contact. “Let’s never talk about that and don’t ask me if I’m okay.”

“You sure?”

“Ryan please,” I begged him, my face bright red.

“Zoey.”

“Go,” I said, pushing against his hard chest with my good hand. “You’re going to be late.”

He sighed and then he walked away. I slowly moved down the stairs and stood looking at the ice. The stadium was a different place without 18,000 screaming fans. The quiet was almost reverent, reminding me of a big, empty cathedral.

I sat down and dropped my face in my hands. I should have never got into bed with Ryan. None of that had been his fault. But my response to his forbidden touch was excruciating to remember. Why hadn’t I stopped him, woken him when his hand was up my shirt? It would have been easy to laugh off. But no. I had waited. Because I had wanted more. My feelings for Ryan were confusing enough, but now I had to mix in intense lustful memories along with the mortification of my over the top response to his touch. It was humiliating.

I lifted my head when a lone skater came out on the ice and slowly circled around. The sound of his blades, scraping on the ice, reverberated. He was tall, with long shaggy blond hair sticking out from the bottom of his helmet. When he came around the corner, he glanced up and noticed me. He sped up as he came towards me and when he was directly in front of me, he stopped short, his skates spraying ice up high. We stared at each other.

“Who are you?” he leaned on his stick, his brown eyes not moving from my face.

“Zoey.”

“What happened to your shoulder?”

“I sprained it.”

He winced. “That sucks. I broke my collarbone in grade 5.”

“It’s not fun.”

“You have a visitor pass.”

I looked down at the tag hanging around my neck. “That’s probably because I’m a visitor.”

His face broke into a smile. He was cute. Not as hot as Ryan, but definitely good looking. “Just came by for a visit?”

“That’s what visitors do.”

He stood there smiling at me for a long moment. “You’re different.”

“From?”

“From everyone else.”

I gave him a skeptical look. “That’s a general statement. Want to narrow that down?”

He laughed. “You’re just unexpected.”

“You don’t know me. I could be like everyone else.”

He stood there smiling up at me. “I don’t think you are.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Are you flirting with me?”

He laughed. “Trying.”

“Huh.”

“How am I doing?”

“You need to work on your routine.”

“Are you dating anyone on the team? Is that why you’re here?”

A memory of Ryan’s hot breath on my neck and the feeling of him pushing his hard body up against mine flashed through my mind. “No. That’s not why I’m here.”

“So, you’re single?”

I couldn’t help it. I smiled back. “Yes.”

“Seems like my flirting routine is working then.”

I laughed.

Another skater came onto the ice, heading towards us. I pulled my eyes away. It was Ryan, and he looked less than impressed. He stopped hard, spraying ice all over the guy’s legs.

“Jensen,” Ryan said, his voice devoid of emotion.

Jensen? This was Jensen? He looked different from the guy who played in the games. Maybe it was the smile.

“Parker,” the guy said in kind. He looked between us.

Then Jensen asked me, “Are you with this guy?”

“Ryan is my friend.”

Ryan turned on his skates and pinned Jensen with a look. He had a smile on his face that didn’t reach his eyes. Jensen ignored him as he looked up at me. “But you were telling me the truth before.”

“About?”

“About being single?”

I swallowed, not looking at Ryan. “Yes.”

His smile was real. “That’s all I needed to know.” He pushed off, skating backward from us. “See you around, Zoey.”

“Bye.”

When he was out of earshot, I dared look back at Ryan. He looked incredulous.

“What?” I asked, feeling defensive. I had nothing to defend, but I still felt that way.

“Stay away from that guy, Zoey,” he warned.

“It’s not like I approached him,” I hissed back. “I didn’t even know who that was.”

He gave me another dark look before he skated away.

Dylan came over with his laptop and a shoebox full of receipts. “My password for my laptop is hockey.”

“Original,” I said, taking everything from him.

“Fuck, I’m so fucking hungover.”

I glanced up at Ryan who was laughing over something with Justin. The sight warmed my heart.

“I think we should do it again sometime,” I replied, thinking Ryan’s team might like him if he had them over a few more times.

His grin was contagious. “Hell, yeah.”

“Do you think the guys would come if we had a party?”

“All of them,” he promised, as he skated away backward. “Every last one.”

I sat back down and got to work.

I finished the receipts in record time and then sat back to watch the rest of the practice. They worked hard, doing various drills, shots on net, battling each other for the puck in corners. A lot of times, it was two players working a drill, while the rest of the team stood in line, waiting for their turn. I caught Jensen staring at me a few times.

Then, when they were taking a break, he skated over and whistled up at me.

“What?”

“Do you want to have dinner with me?”

Before I could even answer, one of the coaches roared at him, “Jensen, what the fuck are you doing?”

He winked at me and skated off.

I couldn’t help it. I blushed. I looked over and Ryan stood watching with a dark expression on his face.

When practice was over, Dylan skated over.

I handed the laptop to him over the boards. “All done.”

“Amazing,” he grinned. “I’ll give Ryan your money.”

“Okay.”

“Are you really going to have a party?”

“We’re talking about it.”

“I’ll be there. And the way Justin was talking about last night, I think most of the guys would too.”

Jensen skated up and looked at the laptop. “What secret project is happening here?”

“Zoey just did my expenses for me.”

“That’s cool,” Jensen said to Dylan, “But now I need you to leave me and Zoey alone.”

Dylan grinned at him and then at me. “You want me to take him with me?”

“I can handle him.”

Dylan gave me a loopy smile. “See you around, Zoey.”

“Bye.”

Jensen watched Dylan skate away before he looked back up at me, “You never answered my question.”

“Which was?”

“Have dinner with me.”

“Probably not a good idea,” I stood up and gave him a regretful smile. “Nice meeting you.”

“Why not?”

I walked up the stairs away from him. “You know why.”

“Zoey.”

I stopped walking and looked down at him. “What?”

“At least give me your phone number.”

“I don’t have a phone.” I continued to climb the stairs.

“Who doesn’t have a phone in this day and age?” he called up after me, his voice echoing.

“Me.” I was almost at the top of the stairs.

“I knew that you were different,” he called.

I looked over my shoulder. He stood there with the hugest grin on his face.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a big flirt?”

He shook his head. “I don’t flirt with other women. Just you.”

I waved my hand and walked out of view.