I am not allowing myself one more drink this entire Christmas. Not a drop. I get flirty and forget boundaries when I’m tipsy. I can’t be flirty and forget boundaries around my son’s very hot, very charming teammate. And last night… I did. I had a better time hanging out with Jeremiah than I’ve had on the last ten dates I’ve gone on over the last two years. And that’s terrifying. I can’t enjoy him that much.
I snap my eyes shut even though I just woke up and try to black out the evening. How much we laughed over dinner and drinks. How his blue eyes twinkled in the dim light at the pub. How he pulled out my chair for me and fought me over the check. How his mouth was so close to mine in the Uber that it was physically hard not to kiss him.
I press the heels of my hands into my eyes as a blush explodes on my face, and the memory has heat swirl in my belly. And lower. This is awful. And Jayden and his girlfriend Ariel aren’t expected to be here until late tonight. They’re leaving right after the Comets game, which should end at about nine, so at best, they’ll be here just before midnight. I have an entire day and night alone with Jeremiah.
I throw back the covers and sit up and take a deep, steadying breath. I have handled much worse situations in my life. I’m a warrior. I can do this. I get up and stretch a moment and then slowly walk toward the bathroom. I’ve got a mild headache, and I don’t know if it’s from stress or the drinking last night. My phone buzzes on my night table and I walk back and check it. It’s a text from Jayden.
I’m managing. My hormones are another story, I think as I type something less horrifying back to my only child.
I contemplate typing ‘drive as fast as humanly possible without causing an accident,’ but I don’t. Jayden will blame Jeremiah if he thinks I’m uncomfortable, and I don’t need to make what seems like a tenuous relationship between the two even worse.
I start to pace the room, heat rolling through me like fire licking at every inch of my skin. I’m… turned on. I can’t be, but thinking about last night and Jeremiah… damn it. I stumble toward the French doors that lead out to the balcony. I push back the thick curtains. The sky is as gray as the slate curtains.
I unlock the doors, pull them both open, and step onto the small balcony. My bare feet sink into the icy snow. I'm hoping the frigidness of it all will startle my hormones into submission. I'm in nothing but a white tank top and flannel pajama bottoms as the cold air surrounds me. I open my eyes and that's when I see him.
Jeremiah Waller is just below me, pulling himself out of the barrel-shaped hot tub. And he is completely naked. His back is to me, and he's facing out towards the wooded, secluded backyard. Steam rises up off his exposed skin. All his tight, taut, exposed skin wrapped around all his big, bulging muscles, the biggest and most bulging of all being his ass. It's so round and looks so damn firm. As he bends to pick up the towel he'd placed on the deck chair nearest the hot tub he turns slightly sideways to my eyeline. I should look away, but it would probably be easier to grow wings and fly. My eyes stay glued to his form as water slides down the grooves created by his muscles, and I get a lovely view of his thick thigh, the way the cords of muscle dimple where his butt and thigh meet at the side of his hip, and… yeah. Yeah, that's the cut head of a very well-proportioned…
His head tilts. Our eyes meet. I leap backward. Stumbling through the pile of snow, into my bedroom, I manage to push the French doors so they swing mostly shut behind me before I land on my ass on one of the plush, fake fur rugs covering the wide-planked hardwood.
Jesus, I know the holidays are supposed to be stressful, but this is getting ridiculous. I dress quickly, run a brush through my hair, and splash water on my face followed by some tinted moisturizer to try and not only calm myself down but make myself presentable to the young, gorgeous man I was caught peeping on. If he’s even still here. Maybe Jeremiah went home. Because who wants to spend their holiday with a perverted old lady?
But when I make my way into the great room, I smell coffee and something that smells like bacon and garlic and roasting tomatoes. My stomach rumbles, but then instantly flips when I see him in sweats and a Comets hoodie standing in front of the stove with a coffee mug in one hand and a spatula in the other. His sandy brown hair is raked back and slightly damp, curling slightly at the nap of that muscular neck of his. And his eyes, bluer than the sky right now, are locked on me. He isn’t moving, the spatula poised above the frying pan and his coffee mug frozen up near the center of his chest.
“Morning,” I squeak out.
He continues to stare and then, with a quick blink of his thick eyelashes, he smiles. “Morning. I’m making breakfast. I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course,” I say but my voice is still stiff.
I’m crawl-out-of-my-skin uncomfortable. I don’t know if I should say something or just keep pretending I didn’t get an eyeful of him, and he didn’t get an eyeful of me. I was in a white tank, which was fairly see-thru, in the frigid morning air, and my nipples could have cut glass. They’re still pointy, but I’ve buried them under a padded sports bra and a bulky sweatshirt.
"I also have some loose-leaf tea steeping for you," he says and nods his head toward the teapot on the counter. "I figured the tea in the grocery bags last night was for you. Jayden never walks into the arena without a venti black coffee with oat milk and no sugar so…"
I am once again baffled by how much this man is not like the guy my son constantly gripes about. "Yes. The tea is for me. I don't do coffee. Ariel, Jayden's girlfriend doesn't either. She is hyper-focused on the detrimental effects of caffeine."
He nods. "If she's getting that from her schooling, then her teachers haven't read the Harvard study that indicates people who regularly drink moderate amounts of coffee may be less likely to develop chronic illnesses, such as cardiovascular disease, diabetes, Parkinson's disease, and some cancers."
Okay seriously… who the hell is this guy? I pause with my teapot poised over my teacup, which he also graciously put out, and stare at him. He shrugs. “I read a lot and remember random facts. Did you know sloths can hold their breath longer than dolphins?”
"Did you know I'm beginning to think that I'm in some Christmas thriller movie and you're not actually the teammate of my son?" I counter bluntly. "That the real Jeremiah The Wall Waller is dead in the woods outside of town and you're some imposter. Also, aren't you supposed to be injured?"
“I’m allowed to take the sling off for up to four hours a day now, but with no heavy lifting or rapid movement and no overhead action,” he explains, and his blue eyes grow serious. “Do you not know who I am, for real? You could google pictures, like from the Comets roster. My face will match. Although I have a cut above my left eyebrow in the one on the team website, got a tip of a stick come up in practice and nick me under the visor.”
He steps closer, putting the spatula down and bending so his face is closer to mine as he points to the very faint scar on his forehead. He smells faintly like the outdoors, woods, and crisp damp snow as well as the clean smell of the hot tub water. Our eyes meet again. God, his are remarkably blue, with what resembles shards of dark gray around the pupil. I could stare at them all day. "Why do you think I'm an imposter?"
“Because Jayden says you’re… not so…” How do I say this? I don’t. I simply won’t tell this boy everyone thinks he’s dumb. So instead I say, “Did you know that storing eggs upside down makes them last longer?”
His handsome face twists in surprise and he steps back, and I can breathe again. My heart is still hammering though. Not with fear, or even confusion or panic, but with desire. He was standing so close, and he is so damn attractive, my body is reacting without my permission.
He moves back to the stove and flips the enormous omelet he is making. I focus on pouring my tea. "I will add flip remaining eggs upside down to my To-do list today."
I smile. He smiles back. And then he says. "Did you know taking a six a.m. dip in a hot tub naked comes with a hundred percent chance of embarrassment? Because Whistler homeowners may decide to wake up and go hang out on their snow-covered balcony in their pajamas and watch you?"
In shock I spit out the small gulp of tea I’d just sipped. Luckily only a little of it dribbles down my chin and the rest lands back in the cup. I grab a tea towel, one of the Christmas ones I put out before Jeremiah arrived, and wipe my chin on Santa’s sleigh. “I…” get it together Hannah. You are a grown adult woman. “Did you know that a jolt of cold can help stabilize nervous systems? I needed to shock myself. I didn’t expect to see you. But that said, with a body like yours, there is absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. I should be thanking you.”
He's cut the omelet in two in the pan, with the side of the spatula, and now he's sliding it onto some plates. But he spins to face me as that comment flies out of my mouth, and the one-half lands on the counter instead of the plate.
He stares at me, the gray around his pupils seems to grow, and he gets this look on his face that I can only describe as feral… and hot as hell. My panties are soaked, and the teacup is trembling in my hand, so I put it down. And pray that whatever lewd, inappropriate thing he is thinking, he acts on.