She’s obviously off-limits.
So stop staring at her pert, round ass, dude.
And do something.
Say anything.
Just stop perving, for fuck’s sake.
So I do.
Clearing my throat, I state in a husky tone, “Hey, looks like you could use a little help in here.”
Caught With my Pants Off
As I’m picking up blackened toast from the floor, I hear a man clear his throat.
He then says in a sultry, kind of sinful tone, “Hey, looks like you could use a little help in here.”
Wait, what?
I drop the piece of charred toast back onto the floor.
Who the hell is in the house with me?
My brother is at practice, and Bettina is working.
But then it hits me before pure panic strikes—it must be my brother’s other houseguest.
After I straighten and pull my sleep T-shirt down to a respectable midthigh level, I spin around and find myself face-to-face with Alex Hartwell.
Well, not face-to-face, but close enough. He’s in the entryway, leaning casually against the doorframe. He’s looking hot too.
Suddenly, I remember my attire and a blush creeps up my cheeks.
Damn, Mr. Bad Boy himself—oh yeah, Mr. Hot Abs too—has totally caught me with my pants off.
Great.
I figure since it’s awkward already, I may as well just go ahead and check him out.
Hmmm, he’s all hard muscles in his ripped, faded jeans and long-sleeve hunter green tee.
As my eyes travel up, up, up, I discover a smug grin on his too-perfect face.
I hate to say it, but I can see why. Alex is super sexy in the flesh and totally gives off a bad boy vibe.
Yeah, that selfie with the blondes didn’t do him justice.
I don’t even care now that he’s caught me half clothed. I look damn good for thirty-three. Hope he enjoyed the show while I was bent over.
Since no one is saying anything, I decide to kick off a conversation.
Raising a brow, I chuff, “So you must be Alex Hartwell.”
He scoffs, “In the flesh,” and then pushes away from the doorframe.
Cocky much?
I don’t give him the satisfaction.
I just laugh at his ass.
Remaining cool, calm, and collected, he says, “Speaking of flesh, do you want to go grab some shorts or pants or something to cover up?”
I place a hand on my hip, my tee rising back up one leg.
That gets his attention, and he blatantly checks me out.
“Why?” I ask snarkily. “I’m covered.”
He laughs, his gaze traveling down my body unabashedly once more, and I amend, “Well, mostly. Still, this is more than a swimsuit covers, right?”
“It is,” he agrees.
Sniffing, I say, “Maybe it’s too much skin for you, though?”
Chuckling, his eyes, which are a freaking vivid shade of green that I can see even from across the room, snap up to mine.
“Too much skin for me?” he snorts. “Far fucking from it, honey. I’m thinking maybe I should take off something too.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. “Why bother?” I nod to his chest. “I’ve already seen you partially unclothed. In fact, I think the whole hockey world has.”
“Yeah, you got me there,” he says, his grin faltering. “Thanks for the reminder.”
Aw, now I feel bad.
Alex Hartwell looks defeated.
And it’s all my fault.
I ruined our fun, flirtatious bantering.
“Sorry,” I say, wincing and trying to convey a sense of empathy.
He waves his hand. “Ah, hell, it’s okay. I own what I did. So…” He finally takes a step toward me. “All teasing aside, it’s nice to meet you. You’re Kelsi, right?”
“That would be me,” I confirm, reaching out my hand as he walks over to me.
We shake, and damn, he has such nice, warm skin. A firm grip too.
I like that.
Pulling back my hand, I say, “Nice to meet you too.” Turning to the stove, I ask, “Do you want some breakfast? I made bacon and eggs, over easy. Just, uh…” I twist and reach down to quickly pick up the burnt bread and toss it onto a nearby counter. “No toast.”
“Hmmm…” He thinks it over, then says, “I was going to grab a loaf of bread and head back to the apartment to make a sandwich. But you know what? I think I’ll stay. Breakfast for lunch works for me.”
For some reason, I’m really fucking happy he’s sticking around. I like how he’s playful and snarky, kind of like me. He must be easy-going too, as he got over my comment about his indiscretion rather quickly.
There’s a lot to like about this guy. Too bad he’s my brother’s teammate.
I remind myself that he’s also too young for me. I read in that blog post that he’s, like, twenty-five.
Yeah, no, hard pass.
But since we’re living in the same house, we may as well make an effort to get to know each other.
Sighing, I motion for him to take a seat at the table, and then I step back over to the stove.
“Just give me a minute,” I say, turning the heat back on under the bacon and the eggs to warm everything back up. “Let me grab some plates and utensils and get everything together for us.”
“Okay,” Alex says, hesitating.
“Yes?” I say when I look over my shoulder and see his hand on the back of one of the chairs, tapping it softly.
Smiling, he asks, “It’s just that… Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Nah.” I shake my head as I grab two plates from a cabinet on my left. “I got it covered. You just sit down and relax.”
“All right,” he says as he takes a seat.
After the food is plated, I ask him if he wants me to give my failed attempt at toasting bread another shot, assuring him, “I think I finally have the settings figured out on that stupid toaster.”
Laughing, he says, “No, I’m fine with just bacon and eggs.”
“Yeah, same here.” I nod. “But we have to have something to drink, right?”
“Sure.”
Opening the refrigerator, I murmur, “Hmm, let’s see. We have multiple juices in here—orange, apple, and tomato. Oh and there’s also some skim milk.”
He opts for orange juice, as do I, and a few minutes later, we’re seated across from each other at the kitchen table, devouring a breakfast that is, despite the toast mishap, pretty darn good.
But it’s not just the tasty breakfast that’s a surprise. There’s an unexpected sense of ease between me and Alex. He may make some bad life decisions, but he sure is easy and comfortable to be around.
As I nibble at a crispy piece of bacon, I ask, “So how was your first practice with the Wolves?”
His green eyes light up. “It was fantastic. I got along really great with the guys. And the drills were amazing. We tried out some different defensive pairings, and it turns out I have a great connection with Dylan Culderway. It’s like we’ve been playing together for years.”
I raise my brows and nod approvingly. “That’s really good. Fortuitous too. I’m sure you know this already, but his usual partner, Noel Sandlund, is hurt right now. A lower body injury, I think.”