Body Checking (Men of Havoc #3)

6

I ANSWER the last question then hustle out of the press room like my ass is on fire. All night I could barely focus on what was happening on the ice. Once I spotted Maren, I was done. She sat in the seats I got her and was wearing my jersey. It was like seeing your high school girlfriend wear your letterman jacket for the first time.

I felt like a damn kid. I can’t remember the last time I smiled so genuinely that it instantly changed my mood.

“Coach,” a voice calls from behind me. “You have a visitor waiting for you.”

Jordan stands at the end of the long corridor waving me over. He knows who it is based on the fact that he knows Maren’s friend, and he knows why she’s here because I made a scene out of calling him early this morning.

I shuffle quickly to where he stands then, right before walking through the open door, I take a deep breath and wipe my face of any emotions, then step past Jordan.

There she stands, talking with her friend, a huge smile on her face. Her friend says something to her and she laughs. It’s melodic and it sends a spark through my veins. I clear my throat and it has them both turning to face me. Maren’s face pales and her eyes go wide, her nerves apparent.

I walk closer to them and my smile spreads wide and true. “Hi Maren. It’s so nice to meet you.”

“Y-yes. Nice to meet you too, Mr. Hamlin,” she replies, breathy and sexy as fuck.

“Cade, please. Call me Cade.” I hold my hand out to her and she takes it, her palm damp with sweat.

Or is it my hand coated in sweat?

She stays stiff and keeps the distance between us, but I make the first move and pull her closer, placing a kiss on her cheek.

“I’m gonna go talk to Jordan,” her friend says from beside her.

“Excuse my manners. You must be the infamous jumbotron friend?” I remove my hand from Maren’s, unwillingly, and take her friends.

“Hi. I’m Sasha, and you would be correct. Why don’t I leave y’all to talk.” She releases my hand and passes a wide grin to Maren who gives her a look of terror as if to say don’t leave me .

I walk to the door and open it for Sasha, encouraging her to be on her way so I can get some alone time with her friend. Sasha winks at me as she passes me by and says, “Be gentle with her. She’s had enough assholes in her life.”

“Promise,” I assure her and shut the door when she clears it.

I turn back to see Maren wringing her fingers and chewing on her lip. I stalk towards her like the predator I am, and I have to control myself from pulling her into my arms and whisking her away.

“Um,” she fumbles. “Thank you for the tickets and the jersey. That was really amazing of you. I can’t thank you enough.”

With a crooked grin, I tell her, “There is a way you can thank me that I would like very much.”

Her jaw drops and she says, “Are you expecting me to sleep with you all because you gave me a jersey? You’ve got some nerve, you as–”

“Hold on, Maren. I said nothing of the sort.” I hold up my hands and inch closer to her. “I’m not saying that the thought hasn’t crossed my mind, but I was simply talking about having dinner with me.”

Her cheeks tinge pink and she quickly folds her lips between her teeth. She diverts her eyes to her boot covered feet that fidget back and forth.

“Oh,” she says, her voice now small and quiet.

Not at all the way I want her to sound .

“So. Is that a yes?”

“I…are you serious? You want to take me to dinner?”

“Absolutely. Or lunch or breakfast. Whichever meal you prefer, I don’t really care. I just want enough time to learn everything about you.”

She blinks at me several times, her eyes looking like one of those dolls whose lids open and close at unsynchronized time.

When she stays silent for another half minute, I counter, “Or maybe ice cream? I’m a pie man, myself, but if you want ice cream then I’ll hunt down the best in town.” That gets her to smile and the tense moment instantly settles. “I do have to add that dinner would have to wait for a bit since we head out on the road tomorrow.”

“Oh,” she says again, this time slightly disappointed.

“But maybe you’re free tonight? For a drink?” I’m trying anything I can to salvage this and get her to commit to even a damn walk to the parking lot.

I’ll take anything at this point.

“Well, I don’t think I can tonight since I came with my friend, but I think I could manage a dinner when you return. Or lunch. I like sandwiches just as much as I like steak.”

Relief washes over me, thankful she doesn’t think I’m some creepy old guy trying to get in her pants. I mean, I would love to get in those hot as fuck jeans that hug every curve, but I’ll settle for a meal or two before that happens.

“We have back to back road games, so I’ll be home in eight days. I wish it were sooner but I can’t help the schedule.”

“No. It’s fine. I totally understand. I have a lot of work to get done over the next few days.”

“With your designing?” I ask.

“Yeah. I’m an…wait. How did you know I was a designer?” Her head tilts to the side as her brows knit together.

I scratch the back of my neck and answer honestly. “I, uh, looked you up. I should probably tell you how I came to find you, and hopefully you won’t think I’m some crazy stalker.”

I motion to the couch and she walks over slowly, taking a seat, and I sit next to her. She crosses one leg over the other and my eyes lock onto the sweet crevice between her thighs. The spot where I want to bury my head.

I shake out of my thoughts of what her pussy tastes like and explain how I came to find her.

“So it all started the other morning when I woke to a barrage of texts from my players all about this woman on social media.”

“Oh Jesus, please take me now,” she murmurs and brings her hand to her head .

I place my hand on hers and bring it away from her face and to rest in her lap. “I’ve never been so glad to have my players bugging me than I was that morning. Instantly I knew I had to find you. But the problem was that I didn’t know your name or anything about how to find you, so I thought all hope was lost.”

A brown wave falls from where it was pushed behind her ear and I reach up, taking the lock between my fingers and rubbing the silky strands between them.

“Then your friend set up the jumbotron last night and I thought the Lord had answered my prayers. I did a whole lot of digging –which I do not apologize for– to get you here, and here you are. Are you going to file a restraining order now?”

I watch her lips wiggle as she tries to control her smile, then she bursts out laughing. In turn, it makes me laugh and I startle at the sound having not heard it in a very long time.

“No restraining order. But I will be checking that my doors and windows are locked before I go to bed.” I smile again, and the muscles in my face start to ache from sitting dormant for so long.

“Do you think I could give you my number? I would ask for yours but I don’t know if you could handle getting texts from me the moment you walk out the door. ”

“You’re a smooth talker, Cade Hamlin,” she tells me and reaches into her purse and pulls out her phone. “Here.”

She has her contacts pulled up, so I type my number in and start to save it as Hammer , but think better of it, putting Cade instead.

“The ball is in your court. I’ll wait for you to call me. If you don’t, then I understand and wish you all the best. But I pray you do call, Maren.”

She gulps and slides her phone from my hand, placing it back inside of her purse, but never taking her eyes off of mine. We sit in silence staring at one another with only the sounds of feet moving across the floor and muffled voices from the opposite side of the door. We’re tucked away in our bubble right now, but I know at any moment that someone will come to burst it.

“I’ll call. Promise.”

“Don’t say it if you don’t mean it. You wouldn’t want to break this old man’s heart.” Her eyes close on a smile and she bats at my chest.

I catch her hand and hold it in mine as I stand from the couch, pulling her up with me. I slowly bring her hand to my mouth and place a small kiss on the back of it. She lets out a sound somewhere between a nervous giggle and a gasp for air.

I know, Maren. Me too .

“I leave pretty early tomorrow, but you can call or text anytime you’d like.”

“I won’t bother you while you’re busy with important things like, you know, coaching a hockey team.”

“I’d stop the game right in the thick of it if you called, so don’t worry about that.” And while she may think that’s a lie or an exaggeration, it is absolutely not.

“Thank you, again, for the amazing seats and jersey and food and drinks. You really shouldn’t have done that. It was all too much but I greatly appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome. But I should really thank you.”

“For what?” she asks as we move closer towards the door.

“For making me feel again when I thought there was nothing left.”

Fuck , I’m pouring it on thick. It’s one cheesy line after another, but I can’t stop it. It’s like the words that laid low, thinking they’d never be used, came racing out the minute I saw her.

“You’re…welcome?” I guess I’d have that same reaction if some old bag of bones started stacking up the ridiculous one-liners like I have.

I turn the handle, not wanting this to end but knowing it has to, and find her friend and Jordan standing there with wide eyes .

“Oh. Hey. We were just…” Sasha’s words topple off, apparently not having a fib to tell.

“It was nice meeting you, Sasha. I hope to see you again, sometime.”

“Yes. Same. About meeting you. And seeing you again. But not in that way. She’s that way about you. I follow strict girl code guidelines. Hands off another’s girl man when she calls dibs. I wouldn’t dar–”

“Sasha!” Maren grouses between gritted teeth. “Good night, Cade.”

“‘Night, Maren. I really hope to hear from you.” I lean in and kiss her cheek chastity, not wanting to scare her with my forwardness.

Like she didn’t already catch the extent of my forwardness when I tracked her down and sent her tickets and a jersey then told her she made me feel again.

Jesus . She’s never going to call. Not after that desperation.

She links arms with her friend and they begin to walk away. Sasha slows and looks over her shoulder and asks, “Do you, by any chance, have a pencil du–ow ow ow.”

Her body begins to fold as she whines in pain. Maren’s grip on her is tight and if I’m not mistaken, I think she’s even pinching Sasha under her arm. It’s a move my mom pulled on me many times, so I recognize the sign of agony.

Maren, too, looks over her shoulder and passes me a tight smile and small wave before scurrying off. I watch as her hips sway side to side, her ass looking like a delicious meal just waiting to be consumed.

“Bet that bikini is gonna come in handier than you expected.” I look behind me to see Joaquín walking up with a cocky smirk. “I’m assuming that’s your video girl.”

“Maren. Her name is Maren. Don’t call her anything else,” I growl.

“Sure thing… Hammer .” I reach out and punch his arm as he trots past me.

He lets out and “oof” and rubs his arm but doesn’t slow down.

“Keep it up and next time I shove my foot up your ass,” I shout at him and it has everyone around us turning their heads.

When they see it’s me yelling, they quickly divert their eyes and go about their business. I spin on my heel and feel my phone buzz from my back pocket. Pulling it free, the screen lights up and what I see has the usual frown on my face turning upside down.

281-555-3222: Hi. This is Maren. I texted like I said I would, so now the ball is in your court. Thanks for the tickets and jersey, Coach.

The stupid ass smirk on my face won’t go away no matter how hard I try to conceal it. I decide to just let go and roll with it. I immediately respond.

Me: With the ball in my court, I plan on taking many shots. See you in a week, Maren.

Maren: Don’t say it, if you don’t mean it. winking emoji

Fuck , this woman has me giddy like a goddamn girl. Ask me if I care.

Not one. Fucking. Bit.