Blindsided: A Moo U Hockey Romance

by Victoria Denault

  “Just come on! Before the…maid…thinks we’re not home and leaves!” Caroline giggles and suddenly darts into my room and grabs my arm, yanking me off the chair.

  “What the hell, Caroline!” I say as someone knocks on the front door. Daisy and Jasmyn are running along behind us as Caroline drags me around the corner and down the hall to the front door. I’m trying to dig my heels in to stop the forward motion, but I’m in socks on hardwood so it’s futile.

  “She’s coming!” Daisy calls out as Caroline finally lets go of my arm when we reach the front door. I stare at it and then turn and face my roommates with my arms crossed.

  “I’m not answering that,” I say flatly.

  “Why not?” Jasmyn asks, her big brown eyes wide with excitement, over what I have no clue, and that’s exactly why I will not answer the door. Because something is up and everyone knows it but me.

  “I hate surprises,” I remind my sister, who should know this by now.

  “It’s just the maid. I swear,” Daisy says, and the smile drops off her wide mouth…which has a pretty pink gloss on it. And her brown eyes are sporting eyeliner and mascara.

  I glance as Jasmyn and Caroline who are also both wearing makeup suddenly. Daisy was clean faced and in sweats earlier. Caroline was still in pajamas. Jasmyn wasn’t even home. There’s another knock as I say, “What the hell is up?”

  Daisy huffs in annoyance. “God, you’re such a scaredy-cat.”

  She pushes past me and grabs the door handle, but she slides to the right with it as she swings it open leaving me face-to-face with…a man. He’s in a very tight white tank top, ripped jeans slung oh so low on his narrow hips, a cowboy hat, a red bandana over the bottom half of his face and sunglasses over his eyes.

  “Who the hell are you?”

  He doesn’t say anything, but I think he tenses up. Or flexes? Something makes all his muscles—and there are a lot of them—tighten. Jasmyn giggles beside me and Caroline makes a low almost-growl sound of appreciation as her eyes sweep over him. Daisy peeks around the door she opened that she’s basically hiding behind. “He’s our cleaner. We hired Manly Maids.”

  “Manly Maids?” I repeat, confused and look at him again. “What the hell is Manly Maids?”

  “A cleaning service that only sends hot, buff, beautiful men to scrub you clean,” Jasmyn explains. “Well, your house.”

  “Come in!” Caroline urges the guy and starts motioning with her hands.

  He reaches for something and hesitantly crosses the threshold with a mop and bucket in his hand now and I notice a feather duster sticking out of his back pocket. And then, as Daisy swings the door closed behind him, and he is less than a foot in front of me, he puts down his cleaning stuff, takes off his cowboy hat, hooking it on the mop handle, and reaches up behind his back and grabs the thin tank top and starts pulling it up over his head.

  My eyes can’t help but follow the hem of the tank as it rises up his torso revealing ripple after ripple of well-defined muscle. I feel like the Count on Sesame Street as my brain shouts one ab, two ab, three ab, four ab, five ab, six ab…ah, ah, ah!

  And of course, as the shirt rises higher and higher so does the heat in my cheeks. By the time he’s shirtless I know I’m the color of a first degree sunburn. Daisy lets out a laugh followed by a snort. “You should see your face!”

  “Why is he getting naked?” I croak and stare at his face, which is barely visible yet somehow—in the recesses of my mortified mind—I feel like I should know him. “They clean in their underwear,” Jasmyn says and Caroline giggles maniacally beside her.

  “What? Why?” I squeak as his hands goes to the button on his loose jeans and my eyes follow. “Oh my God.”

  I cover my face as the sunburn color deepens to second degree. My roommates are all laughing so loud at my reaction I consider moving out. “Jerks!”

  I can’t stop myself from peeking through my fingers though. He is totally just in his underwear now. A pair of snug, black Calvin Klein boxer briefs. Sweet Mother Mary and Joseph. The man is fine. Daisy moves beside me and slings an arm over my shoulder. “Hey cowboy, you can start in the kitchen. We bought the full meal deal, for the record.”

  My hands drop and I glare at her. “What does that even mean?”

  Before she can answer I turn to our masked, mostly naked guest and say. “You don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with. I mean, we’re not like…this is so…we won’t touch you or anything. This is a safe space. I’m so sorry.”

  I’m rambling on like a complete insane person at this point, drowning in embarrassment. Jasmyn is laughing so hard tears are streaming down her cheeks and Caroline is doubled over, leaning on the wall for support. Daisy stares at me like I have lost my mind. “Full meal deal means he’ll do the dirty dishes and clean the toilets as well as mop and dust. Get your mind out of the gutter, sis.”

  I look at her and back at him. He holds up a feather duster. And tucks the handle into the side of his very tight, very complimentary boxer briefs. My embarrassment sunburn shade kicks up to third degree. “I’m going to go hide in my room.”

  I start down the hall but Daisy grabs me. “Oh no, honey, we didn’t hire him to do this without an audience. Show him where the kitchen is and supervise his work.”

  “This is ridiculously sexist,” I blurt out but she’s dragging me down the hall and I’m letting her because, if nothing else, I can protect him from my suddenly lecherous roomies.

  “They have topless maid services, you know. Hell, they even have a topless coffee shop in Maine,” Daisy argues calmly. “Those have been in existence for years, so this service is just balancing the scales. We’re actually being feminists by using it. Keeping things fair and equal.”

  “I think you need to enroll in law school because that’s the best argument I’ve ever heard, even if I don’t believe a word of it,” I reply.

  He’s right behind us as we enter the kitchen but he stops abruptly when the sink comes into view. It’s as gross as it was earlier and now I’m aware of the smell I must have blocked out before. The room has a faint odor of rotten vegetables and musty water. We’re lucky he’s got seventy-five percent of this face covered so we don’t have to witness his look of disgust. Even though it’s saving me from further embarrassment I question it. “Do you have to wear the costume? Can you even see in here with sunglasses on?”

  He turns his head toward me but doesn’t speak. He just gives me a curt nod and walks over to the sink. There is something about the way he moves—his walk, the shape of his broad muscular shoulders and the round curve of his bubble butt…this guy doesn’t just work out to get that body. He plays a sport. Or he did. He moves like an athlete.

  “We’re busy, hardworking women, cowboy, so we just don’t have time for dishes,” Jasmyn says leaning on the door frame and full-on ogling this poor dude. He glances over his shoulder at her but doesn’t seem to mind. I guess if this is his job, he’s used to it.

  “Thank God a big, strong man like you is here to clean our plates,” Caroline says and it sounds so bloody cheesy even he groans. And it’s not only sexy but also familiar. I’ve heard that groan before…recently.

  How have I heard that groan before?

  “So are you from around here?” I ask as Daisy sits at the kitchen table, chin in her hands and stares blatantly at his ass.

  He isn’t even attempting to answer me as he scrubs a pot. Caroline doesn’t like that. “You’re dressed as a cowboy, not a mute. Is talking extra or something?”

  He glances over his shoulder and looks in my general direction and shakes his head.

  “Okay so you’re not from here. But you must live nearby?”

  “Maggie this is a cleaning service not a dating app,” Daisy says sternly. “Save your questions for your next Tinder date. Maybe next time you’ll swipe right on a cowboy instead of a cop who tells you he arrested your grandpa.”

  I start to turn red again which seems to delight my sister. C
aroline and Jasmyn are finally paying attention to something other than the naked hottie. “What? Your grandfather was arrested?”

  “And you’re dating a cop?”

  “Yes and no. I’ll explain later,” I reply and my eyes go back to the Cowboy.

  “Explain now,” Jasmyn begs.

  “Our asshole neighbor, George Adler, has always gone out of his way to push Clyde’s buttons and, long story short, they got into a fist fight at city hall,” I mutter. “And I found out when I went on a date with a cop.”

  “I don’t even know what to say about that,” Jasmyn shakes her head. “Was the cop at least hot?”

  “Yes,” I say absently, still focused on our maid. Why is my Spidey-sense going off like a smoke alarm? “Hey Mr. Manly Maid. You must do more than just go to the gym, right? I mean to be this…fit. Do you play a sport? Soccer?”

  He shrugs those amazing shoulders and seems to scrub the dishes more aggressively suddenly. My eyes slide down over that well sculpted butt and then to his thighs. His thick, muscular, strong thighs. “Hockey? Do you play hockey?”

  “That is definitely a hockey ass,” Jasmyn whispers.

  “Just stop talking and enjoy the view. It’s what you paid for,” he snaps and while my roommates and sister gasp in horror at his rudeness, I gasp in shock because I know that deep voice overflowing with snarky attitude.

  I walk over as he starts to turn to face us and I reach out and tip his hat off his head. In an attempt to catch it, he leans forward as it tumbles to the ground. Knowing he’s off guard, I quickly grab the edge of his bandana and give it a swift tug. He jumps back and his sunglasses tumble to the floor next to his hat.

  And then there he is—Tate Adler half-naked in my kitchen. For once, I’m not the one turning red.

  4

  Tate

  I knew I shouldn’t have taken a job in Burlington. And now I am totally and utterly screwed. There were warning signs all damn day that I ignored. The address was the first. A ton of students live in this area of town because it’s affordable and has a lot of rental properties. The name of the client was Caroline S. To protect privacy Vickie never gives out last names for our clients like she doesn’t give out our names at all. But I know Caroline Schneider. She had a brief but intense fling with a guy on my dorm floor last year. And she drives a custom painted matte teal Fiat, which was parked across the street as I parked next to the apartment building. I noted it, which is why I decided to keep my sunglasses on which isn’t normally part of my costume. In case she lived nearby and saw me.

  As soon as I heard the giggling behind the door, I knew I was fucked. I knew they were college girls, which meant they were Moo U girls. And I was about to leave when the door flew open and Maggie Todd was standing in front of me. The very pretty, ultra-annoying bane of my existence. I should have turned and run down the stairs and out the door as fast as my legs would take me but I didn’t. I told myself I could get through this—but I couldn’t. And I didn’t.

  And now she’s basically holding my proverbial balls in her hands and she knows it. Maggie Todd is a lot of things but stupid isn’t one of them.

  “Holy shit!” Caroline gasps as my identity is revealed.

  “You go to our school!” The girl who had been laughing like a Tickle Me Elmo doll says. I don’t recognize her at all, but they’ve called her Jasmyn a few times.

  “Adler?” Daisy whispers in shock.

  “Tate Adler,” Maggie grins and crosses her arms and tips out a hip. She couldn’t look more smug if she tried. “You’ve got some explaining to do.”

  “Actually what I’ve got is a really disgusting apartment to clean,” I reply sharply because if I’m going down, I might as well do it swinging. “You girls live like animals and that says a lot coming from a guy who lives with a bunch of other perpetually sweaty jocks.”

  I go back to washing what’s left in the sink, ignoring the parts of my costumes that fell to the ground because there’s no point hiding now. I hear them all approach and know they’re hovering right behind me full of judgment and questions. I’m so furious with myself for getting into this situation and my brain is running at a million miles an hour trying to figure out a way out of it.

  “This was only fun because he was a stranger who didn’t judge us,” Jasmyn announces and walks out of the room.

  Caroline frowns at me. “You know we are all really busy. I’ve got an internship this semester and a full course load. Daisy and Maggie work part-time on their farm and Jasmyn goes to college for business and takes cooking classes almost every night so…”

  “You don’t owe me an explanation,” I interrupt because I don’t care, honestly, that they live like pigs. “I’m not going to tell anyone. I’ll keep my mouth shut and clean this entire house if you all keep your mouths shut too.”

  “I want a ten percent discount,” Caroline demands, surprising me but I nod without hesitation. “Lips sealed.”

  She turns on her heel and also leaves the kitchen. Great, now it’s just me and Satan’s redheaded minions. I put the last dirty dish on the drying rack, which is stuffed to the brim, and walk over to my mop and bucket and lift the bucket to the sink.

  “I’m not so big on the keeping my mouth shut part,” Daisy says.

  “Of course you’re not,” I say and turn to her. “Because you’re mean and selfish like your grandpa.”

  “No. Because this is hysterical and you’re a dick,” Daisy replies and then, before I realize what’s happening, she’s pulled a phone out of her back pocket and I hear the distinct snapping sound.

  I charge toward her and reach for her phone. “No pictures! It’s in the damn rules.”

  Daisy is fast and out of the kitchen before I can grab her phone. I chase her down the hall, Maggie is running behind me yelling my name but I ignore her. I don’t know their apartment or where the hell she’s going but she turns and heads back toward the front door then takes a left into what must be a bedroom and slams the door a millisecond before I can cross the threshold. I bang on it with my palm. “Seriously! No pictures! It’s in the online consent form. I’m going to sue your ass if you don’t delete that!”

  My heart is racing and I turn to Maggie and I know I look like I’m having a panic attack because, well, I might be. I have no idea what those feel like. Maggie’s face morphs from amused to concerned immediately. “Okay, okay, calm down.”

  “That’s a breach of terms of service. A total violation,” I snap.

  Maggie looks like she’s fighting an eye roll. “Dramatic much? We took your picture we didn’t grope you or anything.”

  “I’d rather you did,” I bark back and instantly regret it but hey, I’m suddenly an expert in doubling down on stupidity so when her eyes grow wide I lift both my arms and take a step toward her. “Seriously, you can touch whatever you want. Get a good feel. Pinch my ass. Try to figure out what jock size I wear. I don’t care if it means you’ll delete that damn picture and keep your big mouths shut about this job.”

  Maggie’s big hazel eyes are blinking so rapidly in disbelief that they’re fluttering. And that pale complexion of hers is rapidly gaining color again. “You’re so worried about the picture you’d let me molest you?”

  “I could list a lot of your faults Maggie but your IQ wouldn’t be one of them,” I reply and she looks rightfully offended. “You’re here on a full ride just like me and so I know you know the rules about scholarships. So go ahead and molest the hell out of me—you can all take turns—as long as the picture disappears.”

  “First of all, gross,” she says and shudders. “Touching you would be a punishment not a reward.”

  “Please. You may hate me but let’s be honest, physically I’ve got more to appreciate than that cop you’re dating,” I say flatly and with confidence which I know sounds egotistical but I’m great in bed, and hockey and farm chores have given me a body I know women appreciate because they tell me. Not just on every job but at school parties too.

&nb
sp; “I’m not dating the cop. It was one date. And let’s get back to the scholarship and the rule about how if you’re in need of a part-time job you must consult with Financial Aid and they will match you with an on-campus job,” Maggie says and that smug smile is back playing on her lips. “Because students on a full scholarship are only allowed to work on-campus jobs on a part-time basis only as to not interfere with schoolwork.”

  She recites the regulation almost verbatim. I’d be impressed if it wasn’t so upsetting. “Yeah. So it shouldn’t shock you that I’m willing to do anything or let you do anything to keep this between us. I need this scholarship.”

  “Excuse me? Are you going to finish cleaning this apartment,” Caroline calls out and Maggie and I both snap our heads around to see she’s popped her head out of her bedroom door down the hall by the kitchen. “If not, I’ll still pay if that touching option is still on the table.”

  “I’ll clean it,” I reply and turn back to Maggie. “After Daisy deletes that picture. For all I know she’s already posted it to Instagram or some garbage.”

  Caroline disappears back into her room with a disappointed huff. Maggie sighs and brushes past me to knock on her sister’s door. “Daisy open up and give me the phone.”

  There’s a pregnant pause but the door opens a crack and a pale arm extends with the phone in hand. I step forward as Maggie takes it but she puts a hand out and her palm bumps my bare chest. “Not so fast there, cowboy. You’ve got a job to do, remember?”

  “Cleaning this pig sty? Yeah. I’ll do it. Now delete it,” I reply tersely.

  “Clean,” Maggie replies just as tersely.

  I want to hurl every insult I’ve ever heard at her, but I grit my teeth and force myself to head back into their dirty kitchen where I grab my mop and bucket and get back to work.

  An hour later, the kitchen and bathroom are clean and I’m both disgusted and exhausted. This place is messier than the hockey house, and we’re not exactly clean freaks. “Vickie described the job as kitchen and bathrooms, plural, so where’s the next bathroom?”