Fake Dating the Defenseman Next Door (Soltero Beach Scorpions Hockey #1)

4. Diego

four

Diego

T he woman standing on my coffee table is hot as fuck. Dark, wavy hair piled into some sort of sloppy bun that’s listing off to one side. Large, soulful brown eyes flashing with irritation. Deeply tanned skin. One arm sporting a full sleeve of brightly colored ink. Thick, shapely thighs that are entirely too visible from her perch atop my table. More ink peeks out under the hemline of her sleepshirt, and fuck if my fingers don’t itch to reach down and slip the fabric higher.

Just to see more of her curves.

Danger ahead, Diego.

I keep my hand steady as she stares at me with her plump lips parted and mouth hanging open.

Considering she’s barged in here uninvited and busted up the party like she’s the fun police, well… I also have to consider the possibility that in addition to being hot AF, she might also be deranged.

That’s okay. I’ve handled my fair share of crazy women.

“What do you know about Boglegel ?” She takes my hand and something electric passes between us.

She must feel it too because her eyes find mine, and everything around us seems to freeze for a second.

Weird. I suddenly don’t want to let go.

My gaze darts to her face, noting the blush staining her cheeks and the way she cranes her neck to maintain eye contact. There’s something familiar about her, but I can’t place my finger on why as I catch a whiff of her sweet cinnamon and sugar scent fills my head when she steps down off my furniture.

In response, my cock stirs in my pants, but I will it to stand down.

Everyone’s watching and having an audience might work for some of these guys, but it’s not my kind of kink.

“I’m cultured,” I say with a smile. Snickers and snorts echo around the room from my teammates and houseguests. I ignore them all. “Plus, it’s a damn good show.”

She quirks one eyebrow at me and withdraws her hand from mine to wrap both her arms around the plushie, keeping it in front of her like a protective shield.

Without her soft hand in mine, I feel oddly bereft.

“Don’t let Big D’s ugly mug fool ya,” shouts out Dominic. “Inside, he’s as soft as those donuts he’s obsessed with. Can’t tell you how many rom coms and soppy dramas this guy watches when we’re—”

Next to him, our enforcer Leonid Aslanov digs his elbow into his side with all the subtlety of a Mack truck.

“Big D?” She arches one brow at me, her gaze trailing over my chest, my abs, and finally coming to a stop on the bulge in my jeans. Like she’s not sure if it means what she thinks it means.

My cock stirs in response and I swallow down a groan.

“It’s just a nickname,” I say in a strangled voice, heart pounding. There’s a warm energy that reverberates from her that I’m drawn inexplicably toward. “I’m Diego.”

Her eyes snap back up to mine.

“I know who you are,” she snaps.

Instantly, the energy in the room shifts.

“You do?”

Everyone’s suddenly on alert and I can sense the guys shifting. Squirming. Looking for an escape.

Is she a fan? Is this going to end up on social media? Is coach going to find out?

My throat constricts. It wouldn’t be my first time getting named and shamed for party boy behavior in the press, but for some of the young guys…

“Yes. You’re the endless frat party next door that’s kept me up for three nights straight.” She pokes a finger right into my chest three times to punctuate her words. Then, she cocks her head to the side. “Though… aren’t you a little old to be in a fraternity?”

I splutter while some of the guys erupt into laughter around me.

“I… this isn’t a frat party,” I choke out. “And I’m not old. I’m barely thirty.”

She casts a disbelieving look around my place with multiple ice tubs filled with an impressive array of beer, the snacks readily available on the countertop, and those paired off and making out in practically every corner of my condo.

“It might look like one,” I concede, stepping in front of her to block her wandering gaze and have those gorgeous warm browns refocus on me. Again, it’s like a sucker punch to my gut and all I can think is wow . “But it’s not. I promise.”

“Either way, I need to sleep. I’d appreciate it if you could keep the noise level to a respectable level. Thank you and goodnight.”

With that, she turns on her heel and walks out. Chin up, shoulders back, plushie tucked under her arm. The slides she wears smack against the bottom of her dainty feet as she shuffles out of my condo and the guys give her a wide berth as she passes.

I watch her retreat, unable to tear my eyes away from her luscious ass as she goes. Only when she slams the door behind her do I realize that I didn’t even get her name.

But I do know one thing—the condo next door is no longer unoccupied.

“Ooooh, I think you’re in trouble, D.” Leo springs up and claps me on the shoulder.

Absently, I rub the sore spot over my heart, a smile spreading over my face.

“Yeah, I think so, too.”

Good thing I like trouble.

Despite my best efforts, I’m not able to catch my sexy new next door neighbor in the hall, in the elevator, or even in passing over the next couple days. But I caught glimpses of her from my window as she marched off with a surfboard tucked under her arm.

“Something on your mind?” Grandma Grace asks, pouring barley tea into a cup. Like I do every Sunday afternoon, I brought her groceries from the Asian market and stopped by to see if she needs any help with anything. Today’s task was rebuilding a planter in her back garden. “You seem in la la land today, not so chatty. And you didn’t bring me a guilt donut.”

I laugh, swiping the sweat from my brow and washing my hands clean before joining her at her patio table.

For each of my visits over the last few weeks, I’d been bringing samples from other shops and bakeries, proving to her that she needs to get more help with the shop and re-open soon. Not just for me, but for the whole community.

“Training camp’s off to a rough start for me this year. Pretty sure it’s because I’m not getting my daily donut dose.” I sip the nutty flavored tea as she waves me off. “You know, staying closed is criminal. We’ve tried every donut in this town. None compare to yours, Grandma Grace.”

“I know. I’m the best,” she huffs, eyes twinkling as she sips her tea. “But I told you help would be coming and finally, she’s here.”

“Your granddaughter,” I nod. “The big shot you told me was revamping the shop.”

I think back to the small boardwalk eatery and the evidence of demolition I’d noted over the last few weeks.

Gone were the kitschy retro Formica tables neatly spread out in the cozy space. No more glass display cabinet positioned in an L-shape to show off today’s specials and the tried-and-true traditional fare. No racks, no trays, no old school letter board menu hanging up behind the counter.

All traces of Grandma Grace’s charming, simple style had been scrubbed in favor of eye-catching bubblegum pink and white stripes. Rustic, space saving tables had been brought in with sleek, swivel back seats and golden, exposed bulbs dangled from the ceiling in a callback to mid-century modern style.

It was all very eye-catching, and shiny, and new.

“You didn’t have to do all the upgrades, you know. At least, not all at once. Your donuts are legendary, and you could’ve keep that old school charm running for a long time yet.”

“Change is good. Necessary. That’s what my granddaughter says. She’s got grand plans, my Angie.” Grandma Grace’s smile warms and I’m grateful that her beloved granddaughter has come back to help. It’ll be good for Grandma Grace to have more family around her.

“Like what?”

“One that starts with the renovation of the shop and ends with transforming it into something more than a donut shop. She says we need to diversify and that she’s going to make it instantly famous, or something. Like a virus.”

“Go viral on Instagram?” I ask, frowning as resistance rises up in me. Change screws with traditions. Messes up my superstitious juju.

“Something like that.” Grandma Grace shrugs and turns her keen eye on me again. “Maybe you could do with some change too. You look tired. Let me guess. Too much party, too little sleep?”

“The rookies can party a lot harder than I can these days,” I concede, thinking of last night’s gathering that was interrupted by the gorgeous beauty next door.

It was supposed to be a chilled affair. The kind that featured video game showdowns and a couple beers. Was it my fault that it spun out into a bit of a frat party?

Maybe.

She purses her lips and raises her chin. “Or maybe you finally found yourself a nice lady friend like I keep telling you to go do? One that will stick around longer than a milk carton’s shelf life?”

My lips twitch and I scramble to regain the easy rapport I’ve built up with Grandma Grace over the years. “You know there’s only room in my life for one lady, and that’s you.”

“I think you’ll make room for anyone who can make you donuts.”

“Yeah, you know anyone like that?” I ask, lips twitching.

“My granddaughter, Angie. Taught her everything I know and she’s going to be running things until I don’t need this cane anymore.” She grabs hold of it and tries to haul herself to her feet, but I’m by her side in an instant, helping her out of the chair. “If you’re really desperate for a donut, you ask her. If you want to sweeten the pot, bring choco pies, Pepero, and shrimp chips. If you’re lucky, maybe she’ll say yes.”

“I’m desperate to get my game day rituals reinstated, so I might just do that.”

“Good. You can find her in the shop.” She casts an inscrutable glance over her shoulder and gives me a small, tired smile. “I’m going to watch the new drama now. I’ll let you know if it’s any good.”

Just like that, I know it’s time for me to head out. So I clear away the table and wash the dishes. When I turn to go, I catch sight of Grandma Grace asleep in her recliner in front of the TV. As I cover her with a nearby folded blanket, a tendril of guilt curls inside me.

I shouldn’t mention my reliance on her donuts so much. I’m a professional athlete and should find another way to elevate my play and not rely exclusively on a decades old habit. I’m not a boy any longer, and Grandma Grace deserves to rest and retire. But anytime I bring up retirement, she tells me she can rest when she’s dead.

With any luck, that won’t be for a long time yet.