Calle
She glanced up at the knock on the door then down at herself. It was late and she was cramming in a few more hours, trying to lock down the system and any plays that needed tweaking before the next day’s game.
So, in her pajamas printed with sheep and her baggy hoodie, she wasn’t exactly dressed to impress.
Setting her notebook aside, she stood and crossed to the door.
Then was disappointed when it wasn’t Coop on the other side of the door.
“Stupid,” she muttered. They’d gone their separate ways after grabbing dinner that evening in the hotel restaurant, him to rest up, her . . . well, she’d said she was going to rest up, but it had been a lie as she’d known she was going to come up and work.
She just hadn’t wanted to get into a discussion about it.
Not when they’d had a nice conclusion to the night before, and not when the dinner had been filled with laughter and joking. It was so easy to spend time with Coop, and she’d wanted to hold on to that, not prick his protective streak and get into an argument with him.
“He probably wouldn’t argue,” she muttered, seeing the tray in the worker’s hand outside the door and beginning to unlock the dead bolt.
She needed to tell him she hadn’t ordered—
Tugging the handle down, she pulled the panel open, lips parting to tell him he had the wrong room.
But before she could form words, the hotel employee extended a note.
Then nudged her to the side and brought the tray in, setting it on the desk next to her work as she tore the note open.
Because I know you’re working and at least you can fuel up.
-C
She folded the paper, turning to frown at the desk and the tray and the employee. Then she blinked and realized she probably needed to tip the man. But when she reached for her purse, he shook his head, told her it had been taken care of, then nudged her back to the side and disappeared into the hall, closing the door with a decisive click.
Her cell buzzed, and she extracted it from the pocket of her hoodie.
Coop had texted.
Did you lock up?
She sighed, but her lips were twitching.
It was one time.
A beat then,
So, you locked up?
Calle shook her head, flipped the dead bolt closed along with the lock, and then typed back.
Yes.
Good.
She nibbled on her bottom lip as she made her way over to the desk and felt her heart pulse when she saw the fruit salad.
Then her cheeks creased when she spied the slice of carrot cake.
Her favorite.
Can’t figure out how you think a vegetable is dessert, but enjoy.
Heart swelling, she replied.
I’m surprised you didn’t send me a cheesecake so you could live vicariously through me.
A buzz.
I was tempted.
She plucked up a strawberry and bit into the juicy goodness on a moan.
I wish I was there to lick the taste of what you were eating right off your lips.
Calle froze, heat arrowing for her center.
Add in that thing you did with your fingers last time and I’d let you.
Silence for a long moment.
Next hotel, I’m finding a way to sneak into your room.
Why not sneak up now?
She found herself texting, even though it was late, even though there was a game tomorrow. Desperation was a powerful motivator, especially when Coop had played her body like a violin every single time they were together.
Bernard’s got the room at the end of the hall and I swear to God he gave me a look when I came back to mine.
Her mouth quirked up.
What kind of look?
A buzz.
The kind that said he’d kill me if I even thought of walking down the hall to your room. It was the quintessential ‘dad look.’
She hesitated then,
A ‘dad look?’
Definitely a ‘dad look.’ Bernard’s got a soft spot for you.
Calle scoffed.
Not sure about that.
Well, my balls are quite sure about that. Despite being very blue from wanting you, they’re also very scared because they don’t want Bernard removing them from my body. So, let’s agree to disagree and call it very strong ‘dad vibes’.
She felt a curl of pleasure at the notion, especially when it filled a hole inside her, one that had remained open and gaping after her father had left.
Another buzz.
Very scary ‘dad vibes.’ But it’s good you have someone looking after you.
She was just starting to realize how many people were really looking after her. Coop. Bernard. PR Rebecca. Stefan and Brit. The rest of the guys on the team. But really, it all circled back to Coop looking after her. Because he was the one who made her heart feel as though it were pumped full of helium. Especially when his next text said,
You shouldn’t work too late. The book said that you still need lots of sleep.
Looking after her. Presumably reading baby books.
That should be terrifying, but instead, she wanted more.
Dangerous thinking, dangerous notions, dangerous feelings.
But that still didn’t stop her from texting.
If you’d knocked, I would have opened the door.
And it didn’t stop her from grinning when he replied with,
Absolutely killing me, sweetheart.
Two nights later, she shook out her hands, semi-frozen from standing behind on the bench. No matter that she’d spent countless seasons in this position actually sitting on the bench where the players rested between shifts, Calle could never get her bare hands used to the cold.
Hockey gloves, no problem.
Bare skin, painful and tingly.
It was a couple of minutes until puck drop and the Gold were filing out onto the ice, Brit leading the way. Coop was bringing up the rear, and she knew why when he stopped briefly by her, nudging her shoulder with his and lightly patting her belly before he strode out of the hall into view of the cameras and fans.
A little forward, that touch to her belly.
But she didn’t hate it.
In fact, it gave her that helium feeling again. Biting her lip, so fucking into this man, Calle almost didn’t realize he’d stopped at the mouth of the hall.
She lifted her brows in question.
He gestured to her waist.
Frowning, she glanced down, but didn’t see anything awry and looked back up, shrugging. He was too far away for her to hear his sigh, but she knew he had anyway. But then he lifted his arms to the side and mimed . . .
Oh.
He mimed putting his hands in pockets before gesturing at her to do the same.
“What the—” She began but then her hands were in her pockets . . . and they were toasty warm. He’d slipped her hand warmers without her knowing. More care. More watching out for her.
Helium.
Hope.
Her eyes lifted, but he’d already gone through, and she was alone in the hallway with toasty warm hands.
Although, was she really alone when she had a man like Coop in her corner?
Peanut butter M&Ms in her laptop bag.
She pulled out the red bag with a shake of her head.
Coop had gone out to dinner with Brit, Stefan, and Max, but she’d stayed in, tired after a late night of travel and the press she’d done today.
And he was still taking care of her.
Shaking her head, Calle crawled into bed, taking her cell and the bag of candy with her.
How’d you know?
He replied to her text in seconds. Which was probably rude because he was out to dinner with friends, but she was selfish enough to be happy that he’d responded so quickly.
More danger.
But she was ignoring the internal warning and focusing on how good it felt to be the center of Coop’s universe.
Even if being that center might not last.
I’d have to have been an idiot to miss your shrine to peanut butter at your place.
Okay, so maybe she’d gone a bit overboard in her pregnancy stash buying, but fuck, if the baby didn’t enjoy peanut butter, too.
It had been the only thing she hadn’t puked up during those miserable weeks.
You’re observant.
A buzz.
It’s not a big deal.
Her response was rapid.
It is to me.
His response came just as quickly.
I’m glad, but also, it’s not hard to discover what your woman likes if you’re paying attention. Anyone who doesn’t is a douchebag.
Well, apparently, she’d only ever dated douchebags.
But then again, she already knew that, didn’t she?
So, you haven’t kissed me in a while.
A beat.
Technically you haven’t kissed ME in a while either.
She smiled.
Come to my room when you get back, and I’ll get on it.
Can’t. Bernard’s still playing chaperone.
*sad face* Not even for a goodnight kiss?
*two sad faces* I like my balls where they are, and I think you’ll feel the same if you really think about it.
Calle sighed and then yawned.
Fine. Well, then, I’m going to bed. Goodnight.
Rest up, love.
Love.
Her heart skipped a beat, but then she opened her tablet, intending to put on an old episode of SVU to fall asleep to when she saw it.
It being the stat-tracking app she’d mentioned in passing, the one she’d been waffling about ordering because it had an annual membership fee of ninety-nine dollars and ninety-nine cents, and that was about ninety-eight dollars more than she’d ever spent on any app.
She clicked the icon and immediately fell in love.
It was everything she’d wanted, ticked all of the boxes for things she’d dreamed about.
Instantly in love.
Only, she didn’t think she was talking about the app at all.