Home Game (A Vancouver Wolves Hockey Romance Book 2)

ZOEY and I walked back to my vehicle after practice. I had a raging headache probably because I was dehydrated.

“What about Mica’s car?” Zoey asked.

“Dylan will drop him off at his car,” I tossed my bag into the back. I got in beside Zoey and handed her the money from Dylan.

“Thanks,” she said, not looking at me as she took it.

I started the car. What a cluster fuck. I wanted to ask her if she was okay but I knew it would only piss her off more. Zoey. God that little noise that came out of her and the way she arched back against me when my fingers had been between her legs. She had been so hot and so wet. Jesus. That had been intense. Five more seconds and she would have been flat on her back with me buried deep inside of her. In that moment, I had never wanted to fuck anyone more in my life.

Shame pulsed through me as my cock got hard at the thought. What the fuck was wrong with me?

“What’s wrong with you,” Zoey’s voice echoed my own thoughts.

“Nothing,” I said, realizing I was just sitting there staring blankly out the windshield. I put the vehicle in reverse.

Fuck, her tight little body had trembled. For me. What would it feel like to bury my face between those legs and see what other kinds of noises I could wring from her? I shook my head, like I could shake those thoughts off. I was way too worked up and horny. I hadn’t been laid in a few months. I couldn’t think of Zoey like that. She trusted me.

That moan. I could still hear that moan. I was now hard as a rock. I cleared my throat and unrolled the window.

We drove in silence for a few blocks while I worked to block all thoughts of a naked Zoey out of my mind.

“What did Jensen want?” The words blurted out of me before I could stop them.

Pause. Long pause. “Nothing.”

That drove me crazy. I gave her a pointed look.

“He was flirting, that’s all.”

“And?”

“And he wanted to go for dinner. And then he wanted my phone number.”

Awesome.

“I’m not going to go,” she said.

“Why? Don’t let me get in your way,” my voice was a growl. The thought of Jensen anywhere near Zoey made my blood boil.

She huffed and looked out the window.

We were almost home when the shrill call of my phone through Bluetooth came through the speakers. It was Krista. I cherished her interruption.

“Hey Krista.”

“Ryan, where the fuck are you?”

Maybe not.

“I’m on my way home from practice.”

“Why are you going home? You’re heading in the wrong direction. You should be heading to my office.”

I lifted the baseball cap off and on my messy wet hair. “Why?”

“The interviews for your PA?”

I shut my eyes momentarily. “Krista. I forgot.”

“I knew I should have texted you a reminder.”

I looked down at my worn jeans and old t-shirt. “I look like shit.”

Her laugh was a cackle. “Don’t give a fuck. We’ll see you in 15.”

I punched a button to end the call and then did an illegal U-turn. Two seconds later, red and blue lights flashed in my rearview.

“Fuck,” I said, without emotion. I pulled the vehicle to the curb.

Zoey’s eyes were as wide as saucers.

“It’s okay,” I reassured her, as I looked for my wallet. The wallet that was on my dresser back home. I took a deep, bolstering breath.

The cop approached the vehicle. “Sir, are you aware that you did an illegal U-turn?”

“Yes,” I said, looking at him. “Sorry, we were in a rush and I…”

“Holy noodle. Are you Ryan Parker?” The cop interrupted me.

“Yes, sir.”

He leaned on the window frame. “No shit.”

“I forgot my wallet.”

The guy waved his hand. “You are probably one of the few guys in this city that doesn’t need ID. I was at your last game.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“That goal you made in the last period was phenomenal. You know they call you the sniper.”

I forced a smile on my face. “Nah.”

The cop leaned in and looked at Zoey. “You know why they call him the sniper?”

Zoey’s face was all eyes. She shook her head silently.

“Because his shots on net are impossibly accurate. And he can score like no one else. Just like a guy with a sniper rifle.” He held up his arms and took a pretend shot from a long gun.

“Ha,” I force a laugh. “Well, lots of the guys on the team have great shots.”

“Hey, you mind giving me an autograph?” He handed me his ticket pad.

“Sure.” I scratched my name out on it.

He looked at it. “This will be framed in my locker.”

I rubbed my eyebrow. Krista would have my nuts in her vice grip if the guy didn’t give me a ticket and let me go. “Anytime.”

“Well, you have the entire police force cheering you on. You said you were in a hurry?”

I shrugged. “Kinda.”

“Let me give you an escort.”

“That’s unnecessary.”

“It would be my pleasure. Where are you going?”

“Cordova and Seymore.”

“Leave this up to me. I’ll get you there ASAP. Just stay close.”

I watched him walk back to his cruiser in my rearview mirror. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“Just like the movies,” Zoey said, as the cruiser pulled in front of us, lights flashing.

“Looks that way.”

“I wish he’d use the siren,” Zoey joked.

At that moment, the siren started. I actually felt embarrassed.

Zoey. “You’re not a big deal, hey?”

“You can tell no one about this.”

“Are you kidding? I’m telling this story for the rest of my life.”

Cars ahead of us moved aside as we blew through red light after red light. The cop slowed down, and we waved at him as we pulled into the parking lot of Krista’s building.

I looked over at Zoey after I parked.

She looked back at me. “It must feel nice to be important.”

She sounded sad.

“You know I’m no more important than anyone else.”

“The police escort says otherwise.”

I took a deep breath. “I have to do some interviews.”

“I heard.”

“Come in with me.” For some reason, I really wanted Zoey to be there. By my side. Through this hell.

“No thanks.”

“Please,” I said, feeling desperate. “I really don’t want to do this alone.”

“Krista will be there.”

But I wanted Zoey there. “I will take you to dinner at IKEA.”

Her eyes shot to my face. “Do you need to do any more decorating?”

“Yes.” I lied.

“What room?”

I tried to think of a room that didn’t require me to build furniture. “Our bathrooms. You know, we’ll need bathmats and new towels and those fancy cup holders. That kind of shit.”

She opened the door. “Sold.”

We walked toward the building.

“What does a PA do, anyway?” Zoey asked.

“I don’t know. Take charge of my Instagram account. Do my social media. Pick up my dry cleaning. Just general shit.”

She looked crushed. “I could have done your Instagram account. If I had a phone.”

“You like taking pictures?”

Her shrug was almost indiscernible.

I SAT LOOKING at the candidate. Her mouth was moving. She was talking. But I was zoned out. Instead, for some fucked up reason, I was hyper focused on Zoey, who was in my peripheral, sitting at the table, kitty corner from me.

Zoey had a pen and a pad of paper. She was staring at the candidate and the pen was in her mouth. Her pink lips pursed around the tip of that pen. My cock tightened in response.

That was it. I needed to get laid. I needed to find a quick and ready puck bunny that would help diminish all this pent-up energy.

Zoey shifted in her chair, and with her chin propped up on her hand, she slowly chewed on the end of the pen. What kind of sexual experience did she have? Did she have a wild sexual past? Would she be uninhibited? Or would the shy, blushing Zoey come out?

What would it be like to spread her legs and look up her body? I could watch as that blush flushed over her face and down her chest. God, I would tease her with my mouth until she surrendered with her body, arching up into my mouth, those blue eyes squeezed shut and that mouth…

“Ryan?”

I looked up. The entire room was looking at me.

I froze. “Sorry, what was that?”

Krista pinned me with critical eyes. She was way too fucking observant for her own good. “I was just going to ask you if you had any questions for Bianca?”

Bianca. My eyes glanced at the candidate who smiled at me. She looked like a Step-ford wife dressed in that white wool dress. Her straight blonde hair hung down like a perfect curtain over her shoulders. She was pretty in that cold way I used to like. I had missed the entire interview so I had no idea what to ask.

I cleared my throat and looked over at Zoey, who watched me with those big blue eyes. Her expression was impassive.

My gaze swung back to Bianca and asked, “How would you feel if Zoey handled my Instagram account?”

Bianca looked momentarily shocked. Then she covered that up with a too wide smile. “Well, naturally I’d be fine with whatever you wanted.”

“That’s all I wanted to know.”

Krista stared at me, like I had just sprouted horns. Then she stood up, signaling the end of the interview. “Thanks for coming in. We’ll let you know.”

Bianca shook her hand, my hand and then Krista walked her out.

Zoey turned. “You’re going to let me do your Instagram?”

“Yeah.”

“But I don’t have a phone.”

“We’ll get you one.”

Her smile was so sweet, it pissed me off that I hadn’t gotten her one already. I watched as she wandered out of the room. She began to chat with the lady who worked at the front desk. I stood up. I needed to jerk off and then sleep. In that order. I was so hungover, dehydrated, and horny, I felt almost stoned. But not the good kind of stoned. The bad kind.

Krista returned and shut the door.

“What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing.”

“You sure?”

“Just too much alcohol last night.”

“Zoey told me some guys came over last night.”

“Yup.”

She crossed her arms. “So the bonding is happening?”

“It was a start.”

“So, are you sure about Bianca?”

“No clue. Is she a good fit?”

“You didn’t hear a word of those interviews, did you?”

“Krista.”

“Ryan, you need a PA. Please trust me when I tell you this.”

“I know.”

“Well, Bianca might be a bit too hockey wife for me, but she is certainly the most qualified, and she did make a point of telling us she had a boyfriend.”

Cautious. “Okay.”

She lifted her hands. “She has the most multi-media skills. She has a background in PR so she will be a wiz at helping you with your social media. She seems really organized, and she didn’t seem opposed to doing all the chores like buying your groceries or picking up your dry cleaning. She seems willing to step up and get the job done.”

“That’s good, right?”

Krista crossed her arms. “I think Diane would be a better personality fit for you and Zoey.”

“Which one was she?”

“The mom. She looked about 60 and she had the short gray hair. She had this warm vibe and I could see Zoey totally respond to her.”

“Let’s go with her then.”

“She admitted that she can barely text. How is she going to handle your website and your social media? All of that.”

I stopped short. “I have a website?”

“That’s the point. Bianca will be able to both build you one and maintain it.”

“If Zoey liked the older lady, let’s go with her.”

Krista sighed. “How long is Zoey going to live with you?”

I hated that question. Zoey was a long way off from moving out. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Zoey might be on her feet and out of your place in a couple of months. Then you will be stuck with a 60-year-old mom that likes to give warm hugs and doesn’t have a fucking clue about how to do her job.”

It was stupid, but I wanted more than anything to hire someone who would give Zoey warm hugs. “I get it.”

“So Bianca?”

“You have your reservations though.”

“I do. She didn’t shake Zoey’s hand on the way out.”

I hadn’t even noticed. Krista sighed. “Just keep your eye on her. She will need strong boundaries.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll make her an offer. Six-month probation. Just to cover our asses.”

ZOEY and I didn’t speak on the way home. Once in the door, I made myself a huge smoothie when someone knocked on the door. It was a delivery guy.

“I have a delivery for Zoey?”

“Of course you do.” I called over my shoulder, “Zoey, it’s for you.”

Zoey came out of her room. I towered over her while she signed for her package.

I shut the door. “You order something?”

She shook her head. “No.”

I went back to my smoothie, glad when she walked to the island to open the package. Inside the box was another box. With a familiar Apple logo. She gasped. There was the latest and greatest phone the company had to offer. In pink. All shiny and new.

“Did you order this?” she looked at me, her eyes shining.

“Nope.” But I wished I had. “Is there a card?”

I noticed that her fingers trembled when she ripped open the little card. She read the card and then handed it to me.

I’m not trying to make you be like everyone else, but I need to talk to you if I’m going to ask you out.

“Jensen?” I asked, my voice tight.

She shrugged, avoiding my gaze.

“Well, that’s fucking awesome.”

And without looking at her, I picked up my smoothie and walked into my bedroom.