Damn him, I don’t know why I’m so attracted to him. Sure, he’s good-looking and built, but…there’s something else. The way he looks at me…I tried to tell him we could just be friends, but inside I was a melting pool of lust. The urge to press myself up against him was so powerful I had to tense every muscle in my body. My mouth longed to feel his against mine. I wanted to taste him. Breathe in the scent of him. Put my hands on him everywhere.
God.
It’s happening all over again.
Friends.
I gird my loins and smile. “Hi.”
“Hi.” His smile is easy, friendly. Just what I want. “Hey, Byron.” He takes the leash and Byron happily trots into the condo, his toenails clicking on the dark wood floor.
The door closes quietly behind me as I follow them.
Looking around, I sigh. “This isn’t going to work.”
The place is amazing…Light pours in through floor-to-ceiling windows with an ocean view. A massive sectional upholstered in tan distressed leather takes up one corner of the room, a glass coffee table centered in front of it on a patterned rug.
“What? Why?” JP straightens from unclipping Byron’s leash and faces me.
“Look at this place.” I shoot out a hand. “It’s…Byron will scratch your beautiful floors and jump all over your furniture.”
JP shakes his head, a smile tugging at his lips. “Your house had hardwood floors and they were fine. And leather is the best thing. If he gets it dirty, I’ll just wipe it off.”
My chest is tight. “It’s twenty-five floors down, every time you have to take him out.”
“Yeah, that’s okay. I mean, it’s not ideal, but I don’t mind. I go out for coffee across the street every morning anyway.”
“What about…I’m sure you must, uh, have an active social life. There’ll be times you’ll have to come home to let him out.”
He shrugs. “I’ll figure it out. We’ll keep in touch, and like I said, there’ll be times you’ll need to come by. If we’re both busy, I’ll hire a dog walker.”
My mouth falls open. “A dog walker! That’s—”
“Lots of people do it. Lots in this building.”
“There are other dogs?”
“Hell yeah.”
I suck on my bottom lip, hands clasped together. What other choice do I have? My apartment is strictly no pets and so is Dad’s. I couldn’t find anyone else who could take him, much as I tried.
Byron is nosing around the room, checking things out. Without me asking, JP strolls into the kitchen, which is separated from the living/dining area by a big granite counter, grabs a bowl from a cupboard, fills it with water, and sets it on the floor. Byron happily slurps, then continues his exploration.
“I brought a few things.” I set down the reusable shopping bag on the coffee table. “A few toys and chews.”
“Good.” He dumps them on the rug.
I laugh. “He doesn’t need all of them at once.”
“I know, but maybe they’ll make him feel at home.”
“I hope he feels like it’s home.” I’m being such a baby about this, but he’s my dog. “You have to keep an eye on him. He sometimes likes to eat weird things. A loaf of bread off the counter. A twenty-dollar bill. One time he ate a bottle of glitter.” I pause. “His poop sparkled for three days.”
JP bursts out laughing. “Noted. How about we take him for a walk? You can see the neighborhood.”
“Okay, sure.”
I grab the leash and some poop bags and we leave the condo.
After locking the door, JP hands me the key. “Here.”
I look up at him.
“For you. So you can get in when I’m not here.”
“Right.” I blink and shove the key in the pocket of my jeans. Of course I have to be able to get in. It just seems…personal.
Weirdly, despite my nerves on the way over here, there’s no awkwardness between us. He seemed taken aback when I suggested we just be friends, but today he’s casual and relaxed, and…well, friendly.
Down on the main floor, we leave the lobby by a rear exit and follow a well-groomed path through palm and fig trees toward the ocean. We have to cross under a busy street to a grassy area, where Byron decides to do some business.
I glance at JP as I pick up the poop in a bag. “You prepared for this?”
“Sure.” He appears unconcerned.
I get rid of it in a nearby trash receptacle and we continue on until we’re at the beach—volleyball courts. I smile.
“You’d think you’d be better at volleyball, living so close to beach courts.”
“Ha. That was quite the show you put on that day.”
I rein in my smile. “I wasn’t showing off.”
“No?” He slants me an amused look. “I think you were.”
“Phhht.” I totally was.
“We could have a little one-on-one action here sometime.”
I stare at him.
“Volleyball.”
“Right!”
He laughs. “You have a dirty mind, Sunshine.”
My cheeks flame. “Why do you call me that?”
He hesitates, then says lightly, “Because of your smile. It’s like sunshine.”
My heart skips a beat as tension shimmers between us. Then I kick off my flip-flops and bend to pick them up. Carrying them in one hand, I start across the soft sand. JP follows Byron and me toward a grouping of tall, slender palm trees, their fronds glistening in the sun. The breeze is cool on my hot face, despite the bright sun.
“See, Byron’s right at home here,” he points out.
“He is. See, Byron? It’s the same beach as at home, just farther down the coast.”
“I like how you talk to him.”
“Are you making fun of me for talking to a dog?”
“No! I said I like it. It’s cute.”
“You’d better talk to him, too,” I say fiercely. “Or he’ll feel…rejected. You have to play with him and give him hugs.”
“I will.” He presses a hand to his heart. “Promise.”
I study him from the corner of my eye as we walk. He seems more relaxed today. Too bad I’m not, remembering the sparks and heat surrounding us the other night. I’m tingling all over again just being this near to him.
My hair is whipping around in the wind, so I pause. “Can you take him?” I hand JP the leash. Then I pull a hair tie from my pocket and scoop my hair up into a ponytail. JP watches me, his eyes darkening.
Heat darts in my lower belly.
Friends.
He clears his throat and we resume walking. “So are you all packed to move?”
“Getting there. I move in Wednesday.”
“How are you handling it?”
I’m surprised at this question. I guess I don’t expect him to ask a question like that, knowing he’s probably going to get an earful about how sad I am and how heartrending it is to leave the house I grew up in most of my life. Most men would rather avoid that. So I lie. “I’m okay.”
“Sure.” He nudges me with his big shoulder. “You’re going to be fine. This will be a good move for you. How about your parents? How are they doing?”
“Well, my mom is gone. But we had lunch the other day, and text all the time. She seems…fine.” I shake my head. “My dad I’m not so sure about. I saw him the other day, wandering around the house looking at things, and he seemed so…lost.”
“You don’t know what happened with them?”
“No. They’re pretty firm that they won’t discuss it with me and Amy. My sister. She’s coming up from San Diego today to see if there’s anything at the house she wants.” I chuckle. “I think there are boxes of her Sweet Valle
y High books there.” I pause. “I guess it doesn’t really matter what happened, if this is the best thing for them.”
“Relationships can be complicated.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Speaking from experience?”
“Well…to be honest, I’ve never had a really serious relationship. As an adult.”
“No?” I shrug. “Me either.”
“Until now. Things seem pretty serious with Anthony.” His tone turns rough.
I don’t know what to say. I keep trying with Anthony because he’s a nice guy and I do enjoy going out with him. We still haven’t had sex. I’m just not feeling it. He’s made a few moves and asked me to stay over at his place, but he hasn’t pushed too hard, which makes me feel both relieved and kind of miffed. Which is somewhat perverse of me, but there you have it. I may not want him, but I want to be wanted.
I know JP wants me. Or should I say, wanted me. I put an end to that with my “let’s be friends” speech.
“We haven’t been seeing each other that long,” I finally say. “But you’re right. Relationships can be complicated.”
We let Byron off the leash. JP picks up a stick and throws it for him. Byron flies over the sand to retrieve it and return it. This continues as we walk.
“Can he swim?” JP asks.
“Of course. He’s a retriever.”
The next toss has the stick sailing into the ocean, and Byron doesn’t hesitate to splash in and swim for it.
“You’re really a sucker for punishment. He’s going to be wet and sandy now.”
“I’ll introduce him to my big bathtub. And my cleaning service comes tomorrow.” He pauses. “Why does it seem you’re trying to discourage me from taking him?”
I twist my mouth up. “I’m not. I just…want you to know what you’re getting yourself into.”
“I’m aware.” His words are loaded, and I just know he’s thinking about us…about me coming to his place all the time. “I’ll give you my schedule and we can plan out what days you’ll need to come by.”
I nod.
“But you can come anytime,” he says. “I know you’re going to miss him.”
“I am. But I won’t just drop in. I’d, uh, hate to interrupt you in anything.” Blergh.
“I guess that’s fair.”
Byron has had enough and flops down on the sand.
“Buddy.” I plant my butt in the sand next to him. “Are you exhausted?” I rub his head.
JP starts to sit beside me, then appears to change his mind. He moves around Byron and drops down to sit on the beach with Byron between us.
I stare out at the ocean, white sailboats sliding along the horizon, the sun creating a shifting pattern of silver on the blue water. People walk along the hard-packed sand and a few surfers are sitting on their boards, waiting for waves. The breeze lifts loose strands of my hair.
I stroke Byron’s back. “How long have you lived here?” I ask JP.
“Here, in Long Beach? Or my condo?”
“Both.”
“I’ve been in Long Beach six years. I got drafted by the Eagles eight years ago, but I played a couple of seasons in San Diego, and when I first got called up, I rented a place for a while. Bought the condo four years ago.”
I nod. “It’s really nice.”
“It’s okay. It’s close to the arena.”
“You grew up in Canada, right?” I already know this from my Google search. Don’t judge me. You’d do the same.
“Yeah. Québec. My dad bought an AHL team in Drummondville when I was about four or five, so I grew up there, surrounded by hockey. Ended up playing in Gatineau when I was a teenager. I lived there for three years.”
“What’s it like being part of such a famous hockey family?”
“Eh. They’re my family. The fame is weird, but I get it. Bob Wynn is the King of Hockey. To me, he’s Grandpa. Which actually makes it worse.”
“Worse?”
“I mean, grandparents are always proud of their grandchildren, right? But when you play the same sport your grandfather did and he’s ‘the king,’ it’s a little intimidating. It’s a lot to live up to.”
“You think he’s not proud of you?” I take in the tightness of his jaw as he stares out at the ocean.
“Well.” He bends his head. “I haven’t given him a lot to be proud of lately.”
“What? Why? Oh, you mean the suspensions.”
“Yeah. And there’ve been a few other incidents…they didn’t get as much media attention. Sometimes my emotions get the better of me.”
I run my tongue over my front teeth. “Really.”
He gives me a surprised glance. “What?”
I purse my lips. “Um, impulsive sex with a stranger the night of the wedding rehearsal?”
His eyes widen, then darken. “Right.” Our eyes meet and hold. Heat shimmers between us and my insides roll over. We’re both remembering that night. Images flash through my mind like a porn movie—JP’s beautiful, hard body, his hands on me, his mouth on me, his eyes hot and appreciative as he gazes down at me…I shift on the sand. I want to have that again.
I almost whimper.
He looks away. “Well, I sure as hell didn’t tell Grandpa about that mistake.”
Mistake. My heart squeezes. But I know it was a mistake.
“Grandpa was pissed that I was with Théo’s ex.”
I don’t really want to hear about JP and Théo’s ex. Emma. I resist the urge to imitate gagging and say, “I think I like your grandpa.”
“He’d probably like you too.”
Our eyes meet and hold for another heated moment, then I drop my gaze to Byron and stroke him again.
“Anyway, living here actually makes it easier to be part of the Wynn family. There’s a lot less attention.”
“Hmm.”
He picks up a handful of sand and lets it sift through his fingers. “Why do you sound so…skeptical?”
“I think you like the attention.”
He laughs. “Why do you say that?”
“You have an image to uphold. That bad boy who doesn’t give a shit about anything.”
He’s silent for a moment. I’ve probably pissed him off. Finally he says lightly, “Yep, that’s me.”
“I don’t believe you stole your brother’s ex.”
“Huh?”
“You let people think you did that. But I don’t think you did.” I meet his eyes challengingly.
“Okay, fine. She told me they’d broken up.”
I nod. He gives off the air of not giving a shit, but he wants his grandpa to be proud of him. He wants to live up to his grandpa’s accomplishments. He loves his brother and hates that he hurt him. And…he really likes Byron.
“I still shouldn’t have been with her,” he adds. “Even if they had broken up, which turned out to be not true.”
“Did you…really care about her?” A sharp pain pierces behind my breastbone.
He doesn’t answer for so long, I say, “Sorry! You don’t have to answer that question. None of my business.”
“I thought I did at the time.” He shakes his head and sifts more sand. “But basically I was just being an asshole.” He pauses. “You and Martinez…at the wedding…you weren’t seeing each other anymore.”
“No.” I frown. “I told you, we used to go out. He left town and I didn’t hear from him for months.”
“You didn’t actually tell me that.”
“What?” I frown.
“You said he came to see you and apologized. I thought that meant you worked things out and you were seeing him again.”
“No.” I shake my head slowly. “He dumped me with barely a goodbye. Then he started a stupid fight. Why wou
ld I go back with him?”
He shrugs.
“That’s why you seemed so…angry at me?” I tip my head to the side. “Did you think I slept with you when I was seeing someone else? Seriously?” My mouth falls open.
He doesn’t answer right away. I study his profile—his strong nose and chin, his sculpted lips, his hair falling over his forehead. The pissed-off set of his jaw. “I wasn’t angry at you.”
“Oh. Seemed like you were.”
“If I was angry about anything, it was that you left the wedding early when I thought we were going to fuck all night in my room.” He jumps to his feet and dusts the sand off his butt, smiling. “Oh well. Let’s get back.”
His words hit me in the chest.
That’s what this is about. Sex. Or lack of.
Anger churns hot in my belly as I stand too.
The walk back to his place is silent, but I barely notice because my mind is whirling.
The truth is—I’m disappointed too that we didn’t finish what we started that night. Because it was amazing. And hot. And fun. I was pissed off after the fight and I stormed out and…and okay, I’ve been regretting it ever since.
I can’t tell him that now. Because now…we’re just friends. And I’m seeing someone else.
And he’s an asshole, to be annoyed because I left before falling back into bed with him.
My stomach hurts by the time we arrive back at his place, but I think I’ve got my shit together. So much for being friends, though.
“So, Wednesday’s moving day, huh?” he says in his living room. Byron flops down on the floor, and yeah, he’s leaving a trail of sand, but it’s not that bad.
“Yes.” I lift my chin, determined to do this for Byron. “I’ll bring him over.”
“Sure. Just let me know.” He smiles. “It’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”
“I know.”
“Here’s my schedule.” He hands me a computer printout. “These are home games; these are away. I made a note of when we’re leaving and getting back for the next month.”
I scan it and nod. Then we set his alarm system with my own code, and he shows me how to use it so I can get in and out when he’s not there. “You trust me with access to your place anytime?”
In It to Win It (Wynn Hockey) Page 13
