Beyond the open door of the bedroom, I can see a corner of the galley kitchen and part of the breakfast bar, as well as a section of the living room, decorated in neutral colors—beiges and browns with black accents.
I nod approvingly.
I like this place. It’s way better than the hotel. I also appreciate that the décor has a masculine feel.
“Yep, it’s like my own little man cave,” I murmur, my voice thick from sleep.
Lowering the jet-black comforter down to my waist, I lean over and check the time on the clock on the nightstand.
“Shit.”
It’s a little before eight, and practice starts at nine.
Time to get up and get moving.
I shower and dress in quick order. Afterward, I grab my hockey bag and gather my sticks.
Sebastian mentioned to me last night that later today, he’ll be meeting Bettina for lunch at the PR firm where she works.
That means we’ll be driving to the practice facility separately.
I’m ready to go, but I have just enough time to grab a glass of orange juice and an energy bar.
When I return the juice carton to the refrigerator, I note that I sure bought a fuckton of sandwich shit—various cold cuts, three cheeses, tomatoes, lettuce, and condiments.
Chuckling, I mutter, “I guess I know what I’ll be having for lunch when I get back.”
But maybe not, ’cause I suddenly realize I forgot to buy bread last night while I was grocery shopping.
“Fuck. That was pretty stupid.”
No worries, I’ll just pick up bread on my way home from practice.
Speaking of which, it’s time to go.
When I head out to my rental car, I notice a cool green-colored SUV in the driveway. I don’t recall seeing it here yesterday, but who knows? It’s probably Bettina’s second vehicle that she pulled out of the garage.
Whatever.
Later, when I’m at the Desert Sports Complex and on the ice, I’m pleased I’m having a surprisingly awesome practice. My head is in the game, and that’s a good thing, as it’s been a grueling session. There have been lots of reps and drills, where I’ve been showing off my defensive skills.
That’s fantastic, as I need the Wolves to know they didn’t make a mistake by trading for me.
After practice ends, and we’re showered and in the locker room, I finish getting dressed next to Sebastian.
“You looked good out there on the ice,” he says, glancing up at me as I pull my long-sleeved dark green tee over my head.
“Thanks, man.” I sit next to him to tie my shoes. “I felt good too.”
Patting me on the shoulder, he says, “See, things are working out already.”
“Yeah.” I nod. “They kind of are.”
I then remember about the bread, so, running my hand down over a tear in my faded blue jeans, I ask Sebastian, “Do you know where the closest market is around here, or even a convenience store?”
Smoothing down his navy blue tee, he asks, “Why? I thought you went shopping yesterday?”
“I did,” I confirm. “But I forgot to buy bread.”
Placing a ball cap on his head, he turns to me and says, “You can just grab a loaf from the house and save yourself a trip to the store. Bettina is all into these artisan breads and always buys way too many. They don’t keep that long, since they’re fresh and not loaded with preservatives. I mean, that’s good and all, don’t get me wrong, but yeah, we have a lot. Just run in and help yourself to a loaf or two.”
Since I’d much rather not have to stop anywhere, I say, “Hey, thanks. I will definitely do that.”
“Cool.” Rubbing his chin, Sebastian says, “Uh, there is something I should let you in on, especially since you’ll be going into the house.”
Having no idea what he’s talking about, I ask, “What is it?”
Blowing out a breath, he says, “My sister showed up late last night.”
I remember something from earlier. “Huh, I did notice an unfamiliar green SUV in the driveway before I left. I didn’t think you owned a vehicle like that, but I figured it belonged to Bettina.”
“Nope.” Sebastian shakes his head. “It’s Kelsi’s. That’s my sister’s name, by the way. Anyway, she just got through a pretty rough divorce and drove down here on a whim from Salt Lake City. She needs some time to decompress, so she’ll be staying in the main house with us for a while.”
I instantly feel bad. “Dude, crap, does she want the apartment? We can switch or whatever if she’d be more comfortable. I mean, family first and all that.”
Sebastian, though, insists, “No, it’s fine. She kind of fell in love with one of the bedrooms on the first floor, so no worries.”
“Okay.” I sigh. “If you say so. But if she changes her mind…”
“Nah, she won’t. Once my sister makes her mind up about something, she stays the course.”
I let it go, stoked that I get to keep the sweet apartment.
I walk out to the players’ parking lot with Sebastian, where we part ways. He leaves to meet with Bettina, and I head back to my new, albeit temporary, home.
When I arrive, I park in the driveway behind the green SUV.
After I get out of the car, I use the key Sebastian gave me last night to let myself into the house, where I’m immediately hit with the smell of frying bacon.
It may be lunchtime, but breakfast is in the air.
Obviously, since everyone else is gone, it’s Sebastian’s sister doing the cooking.
“Shit,” I murmur under my breath.
I was hoping to run into the house, grab the bread, and make an escape. I’m sure I’ll meet Kelsi at some point, but I’m not really in the mood for socializing at the moment.
I’m actually really fucking hungry. I worked off that small glass of juice and energy bar at the intense practice.
I consider just leaving and coming back later, but what the hell. I may as well get the inevitable introductions out of the way.
We have to meet sometime, right?
Sighing, I roll up the sleeves of my long-sleeved tee and follow the smell of bacon.
As I close in on the kitchen, a new aroma assaults my nose—burning toast.
Out of the blue, I hear someone blurt out, “Shit! Oh, damn, damn… Ouch! Hot, hot, hot. You stupid complicated toaster, making me drop the bread that you ruined.”
I have to chuckle, as this sounds like something I’d be saying after burning toast. I mean, blaming the toaster and all.
I’m still smiling as I round the curve in the hallway, about to take a step into what looks to be an ultramodern kitchen.
But then I skid to a stop in the entryway.
Holy fuck!
I forget all about burning toast. I’m too busy gawking at the hot girl bent over. She’s wearing a long white T-shirt that’s hoisted up, and she’s picking up the burnt toast from the planked floor.
Damn, her sweet ass, covered in skimpy pink silk panties, is right in my sightline.
Her legs look great too—all long and lean. And her long, burnished chestnut hair is a sexy mess.
This must be Kelsi.
And I shouldn’t be, but I’m totally intrigued.
Quickly, I remind myself that this is my friend and teammate’s fucking sister. Yeah, the sister of the guy who’s also letting me stay at his house rent-free.