Icing: A Seattle Sockeyes Puck Brothers Novel (The Scoring Series Book 4)

by Jami Davenport

  “I’ll do whatever you want. I need to stay here. I don’t trust myself living on my own.” Serious for once, Ziggy pleaded with me.

  “Are you insinuating that I would be a good father figure?” What the fuck? Ziggy was a couple years older than me.

  “How about older brother?” he said, trying to smooth my ruffled feathers.

  “I’m not interested in the job.”

  “Coach suggested I move in with you because you’re responsible.”

  Well, that really screwed shit up. The coach wanted him here so I could babysit him? Wonderful, just wonderful.

  It appeared that I was the one who’d have to find a new place, which I didn’t want to do. This place was perfect, just a few blocks from our practice facility, great water view, and lots of incredible places to eat. That last point was a huge plus because I didn’t cook.

  “All right. I have rules.”

  “You don’t mean like the ones that were taped to the refrigerator? I thought they were a joke and threw them away. But you were serious?” Cin’s big blue eyes were round with innocence, but she didn’t fool me.

  “Yes, I was serious. My former roommates didn’t have an issue with them.”

  “Well, I do. Don’t we get a say in them?” Cin narrowed her eyes and sniffed as if she smelled something even worse than the dogs and pot smell.

  “No, I was here first.”

  “I’m good with that,” Ziggy rushed to add, ignoring Cin’s disgust. He started tossing beer bottles—and there were a lot of them—in the garbage and making a terrible racket.

  “Stop that for now and listen,” I shouted over the din.

  “Sorry.” Ziggy hung his head and shuffled over to the couch, where he plopped down. Cin joined him, not nearly as compliant. Jealousy sliced through me, along with the shock of being jealous. I wasn’t the jealous type, and we weren’t dating, hooking up, or anything else. What did I care if Ziggy and she were? I had to get a handle on myself. She wasn’t the right woman for me, even for a one-night stand.

  “No smoking whatsoever. No pot, no cigarettes, not even vaping.”

  “I told you he wouldn’t like that. He’s such a tight-ass.” Cin rolled her eyes once again, but Ziggy was smart enough not to acknowledge her comment.

  “No illegal drugs whatsoever,” I added.

  “Pot’s legal in Washington,” Cin pointed out with a saccharine-sweet smile.

  I shot her one of my best scathing glares. She rolled her eyes.

  “Fine. Not a problem,” Cin said, while Ziggy nodded.

  “Clean up your messes. Not a day later. Not an hour later. Immediately.”

  “Yes, your pickiness.”

  “And stop with the smart mouth.”

  “Not possible where you’re concerned. You give me such great ammunition.”

  “Lock and load,” Ziggy added with a laugh. One look at me, and he snapped his mouth shut. “Sorry.”

  “No parties, no loud music.”

  “You are really a drag,” Cin sighed.

  I raked my fingers through my thick hair and mentally counted to ten. She was the most annoying, obnoxious woman I’d ever wanted to—

  I killed that line of thought right away.

  This was truly a nightmare of epic proportions, and I wasn’t going to be waking up from it anytime soon.

  All day on the long flight from DC to Seattle, I’d looked forward to arriving home after spending a week with my mom. My three original roommates had significant others and had moved into their own places, leaving me as the sole occupant of this condo until now. The peace and quiet I’d craved had been blown to bits by these interlopers.

  My new fucking roommates?

  I’d get through this. Somehow. Once the season ended, I’d renegotiate my contract, buy this place, and boot them both out.

  If I survived that long.

  Chapter Two

  Messy

  ~~Hyacinth~~

  Steele Bailey was the most infuriating, arrogant man I’d ever met. He was wound tighter than my mother when she’s organizing her next rally.

  I’d been a fool to think rooming with him would work out, but I’d been desperate at the time to get out from under my mother’s controlling influence. Mom played the guilt card to the fullest extent, and I fell for it every time. She’d dragged me into so many marches and protests I’d lost count. Not that I didn’t consider myself an activist, but my mom was not only an activist but an instigator. Why do a peaceful protest when you could attract more attention with a more radical approach? Or at least, that’s how it seemed to me.

  She’d taken the group we’d founded and turned it into something I barely recognized. I had to get away and clear my thoughts, figure out who I was without being obliterated by her shadow and tainted by her reputation. Part of my realization I might be heading in the wrong direction was brought about by a new friend I made this summer. Delaney had shown me it was possible to achieve change via advocacy and negotiation with those in power. Confused by conflicting methods, I’d been desperate to find a new place, preferably something within walking distance of my bartending job.

  Kaden, Delaney’s boyfriend, had offered this condo, as they were getting a place together. It was right on the bus line, two blocks from the local bar I worked at, and it was awesome. I’d never lived in anything as luxurious as this.

  There’d been one downside, besides the rent, and I was looking at him right now.

  Steele and my mother were equally annoying except Steele wasn’t an activist. He was far from one, the type of guy who thought he had all the answers and was never wrong.

  I’d traded my chaotic mother for a meticulous male about to have a conniption fit because the place was a little messy. To me, it looked lived in, yet I’d known exactly what I was getting into when I’d taken over Kaden’s lease.

  I’d had to get out of my current situation.

  My mother embraced drama and chaos, and she was dragging me down with her. Steele would annoy the hell out of me, but chaos and drama would be kept to a minimum around him, as long as I didn’t count the constant drama of my body wanting his.

  The subject of my thoughts was standing before Ziggy and me, hands on his hips, eyes cold, and his deep voice was clipped as he outlined our transgressions.

  Oops.

  I glanced around. I’d been careful not to make a huge mess. By my standards, the living room looked pretty good, especially now that Ziggy had picked up stuff.

  I’d enjoyed a heavenly week of nonjudgmental bliss. Ziggy didn’t give a shit what I did, and I didn’t care if he played his music too loud or had women over at all times of the day and night. I liked Ziggy. There was more to him than most people realized. I’d barely scraped the surface of what made him tick, but as an armchair psychologist, I looked forward to getting to know him.

  Steele, not so much.

  The subject of my disdain had finally ended his lecture on rules and retreated to the kitchen, where he obtained a clean sponge and scrubbed the perfectly clean counters. One lock of dark hair fell over his forehead, surprising me that his hair dared to deviate from the perfect style he always sported. I wanted to run my fingers through that thick hair and mess Steele up, but that wasn’t the only thing I wanted to do to mess him up. Oh, yeah, I could think of plenty things. All of them naughty—but I was a naughty girl.

  I approached him and perched one hip on a stool at the kitchen counter, completely absorbed with watching him work. Muscles devoid of any visible tats bulged in tanned arms, mesmerizing me with their controlled but raw strength. My gaze slipped lower to his rounded hockey butt. One thing I’d learned recently since I’d become friends with Delaney, Caro, and the other WAGs was that hockey players had insanely buff asses and thick, powerful thighs from all that time skating.

  Oh, yeah. I licked my lips, certain I was drooling.

  Steele’s ass was the finest of the fine. I’d give anything to see him naked. Hell, I’d like to paint him naked.
I wasn’t that good at it, and most of my stuff was more abstract than realistic, but it’d be fun to paint him. Not that he’d ever agree to such a thing.

  “Do you have any tats?” I asked, unable to keep quiet. Silence wasn’t something I cherished. I had to have background noise or I’d talk to myself.

  Steele half turned to scowl at me. I smiled sweetly back at him. He had no idea how sexy that scowl of his was. I bet women swooned all over the league when they saw his brooding good looks. He’d make a great dark hero in one of those gothic romances my grandmother loved.

  My lady parts were starting to tingle just thinking about having a grumpy roomie with benefits. I’d wipe that scowl off his face and replace it with ecstatic delight.

  “So, do you have any tats?” I repeated. If he said he had any on his ass, thighs, or below his hips, I was asking to see them.

  “One.”

  I waited for additional information, but he wasn’t forthcoming. Fine, I’d get it out of him. “What is it and where?”

  “Sockeye tattoo on my left arm,” he muttered almost as if embarrassed, though I wasn’t sure why.

  “That’s all?” I didn’t try to hide my disappointment.

  “Yeah.” He put down the sponge and regarded me with an unreadable expression. “Is there any part of your body that doesn’t have tattoos other than your face and neck?”

  He’d meant the comment as a slight, but I turned it around and took it as a compliment. “You noticed.”

  He grumbled something unintelligible.

  “You’ll have to get me naked to see the rest of my tats.” I graced him with a sultry smile that deepened his scowl all the more. Ziggy snorted from behind me.

  “You show me yours, and I’ll show you mine.” Ziggy hooked one leg over the stool next to me and gave me a lecherous grin. I rolled my eyes. Steele made an odd sound. When I glanced back at him, he was scrubbing the counters once again, his body strung tighter than a bow.

  “We could all three get naked together.” I had no plans of having a threesome with my two roommates. Talk about a messy situation in more ways than one. Regardless, jerking Steele’s chain was a hell of a lot of fun.

  “Count me out,” Steele muttered.

  “I usually only do threesomes with two women. Never with a guy, but whatever gets you naked…” Ziggy said and winked at me. I winked back and directed my full attention toward Steele, who was visibly uncomfortable with the conversation.

  “You should try it. You might like it, Steele,” I teased, and Ziggy snorted. We were both giving Steele shit. He didn’t know Ziggy and I had come to an agreement that first night I’d spent in this condo. We were not having recreational sex or any sex. Period. End of story.

  Now Steele was a different matter altogether. I’d recreate with him anytime and consider it my personal challenge to loosen him up. I’d make that man scream my name and forget his own as he came inside me. Oh, yeah. That was what I was talking about.

  I loved sex, and ever since I’d met Steele a few months ago on Madrona Island during the week leading up to Caro’s wedding, I’d wanted to have sex with him. I did have to admit, now that we were roomies, such entanglements might be awkward once we moved on to other partners, but I was willing to take a chance. Steele didn’t seem nearly as willing.

  “What would you like for dinner?” I said, changing the subject.

  He stopped polishing the granite and faced me. For the first time since he’d walked in the front door, he wasn’t wearing a scowl. He wasn’t smiling either, but I’d take his expression as a win. The man could be bought with food. Good to know.

  “You cook?”

  “Don’t sound so incredulous.”

  “She’s an awesome cook.” Ziggy rubbed his flat stomach and licked his lips. He stood and stretched.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “You’re welcome. I’ll eat anything you cook, but first I need a shower. Later.” Ziggy gave me a hug and nodded at Steele then ambled down the hall to his bedroom. The door clicked shut a second later.

  A very uncomfortable silence ensued. Since I didn’t do well with any silence, comfortable or not, I began jabbering as I walked past Steele to check out the situation in the refrigerator. Ziggy, thrilled to have someone cooking for him, had given me money yesterday to buy whatever I wanted for meals. I’d gone a little crazy, not used to having that kind of money for groceries. I was a penny pincher. My funky clothes came from sales racks and thrift shops.

  “Don’t you ever shut up?” Steele asked.

  “No, not really.”

  “I’ll bet you even talk in your sleep.”

  I snapped my head around to study his face. Did he actually just joke with me? His expression was impassive and unreadable. His strong jaw jutted out, a trait he often displayed when something irritated him or wasn’t to his liking. After crashing on the couch in his vacation house in the islands for a week, I’d learned to read his subtle body language. He had tells. They weren’t obvious to most people because most people didn’t notice stuff like that, but I did.

  He narrowed his gaze, zeroing in on my clothes then raising his eyes back to my face. I stood my ground. As hard as it was, I kept my mouth shut and waited for him to speak.

  “This place is expensive. Even one-third of the monthly payment is hefty. Do you have a trust fund or something?”

  I stiffened. “Are you insinuating that I can’t afford this place?”

  “Can you?”

  “No, but that’s none of your concern. I’m looking for a better-paying job.”

  “What do you do now?”

  “I bartend at a small bar a few blocks from here. It’s perfect because I don’t have a car.”

  “You did.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s finally in car heaven somewhere.”

  “You didn’t get another car?” He was incredulous, as if he’d never met someone without a car.

  “No, I did not.” I sighed, and drawn by an invisible magnet, I stepped closer to him, breathing in his very male scent. He smelled good. Really, really good. His nostrils flared at my boldness and proximity, but he stood his ground.

  “I expect your share of the rent to be paid on time.” His gaze slipped below my face and lower, then he snapped his head back up. His scowl deepened. He’d been caught gawking, and I wasn’t about to let a guy like him get away with that.

  “It will be.” I squared my shoulders and stood defiantly tall, as tall as someone could who was only five foot three. Kaden and Delaney had already covered my first month’s rent. “I, uh, was actually hoping to trade some of my portion for cooking and cleaning.”

  Much to my surprise, he threw back his head and laughed long and hard. Now I was the one doing the scowling. “I don’t understand what you find so funny about that?”

  I might be drawn to that dark brooding thing he had going on, but a laughing Steele did as much for me as cranky. I’d take him either way, thank you.

  “Cleaning? You?” He glanced around the still-messy living room and kitchen. “This is not clean.”

  “I’m sorry I don’t meet your high standards. I’ll try to do better. You’ll find my cooking is far superior to my house cleaning.”

  “Aren’t you a vegetarian?” His gaze swung back to mine, and the expression in those gray eyes was decidedly carnivorous, with me as the main course.

  “I am, but I’ll cook your meals with meat. Don’t worry.” My own wayward mind sneaked a peek at his meat, or what I was able to see of it, and there was evidence I was getting to him too.

  “You’d better. How much did you think you’d be able to shave off your portion by cooking and, uh, cleaning?”

  I dragged my gaze back to his handsome face. “I don’t know. Whatever’s reasonable. Ziggy’s already all in.”

  “Of course he is.”

  I read the bastard’s mind. He thought I was doing more for Ziggy than cooking and cleaning. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I stepped closer to him unt
il we were only a few feet apart, craning my neck to see his face. He was so big and brawny and fucking gorgeous.

  He shrugged and didn’t answer, but his gaze flicked once again to my cleavage and back.

  “Listen to me, Mr. Brawny. I am not fucking your roommate.” I jabbed my index finger into his stomach. It was so rock hard I almost broke a fingernail. “How dare you insinuate that I’m sleeping with Ziggy for the rent.”

  “She’s not, but not for my lack of trying. She shut me down, Steele. Imagine that. Me? The Don Juan of the Sockeyes.” Ziggy joined our conversation, naked except for a towel slung low around his waist. I’d seen him like this before. In fact, I’d seen even more of him than this. Ziggy had no shame and no problem walking around naked. I was surprised he bothered with a towel this time.

  “Put on some clothes. We have a female living in this house.”

  Ziggy rolled his eyes, and I laughed.

  “You’re not my father, Steele. I’ve seen plenty of naked men in my life. I don’t need you to protect my virtue.”

  Ziggy grinned from ear to ear, enjoying our little discussion. He waited for Steele to mount a counterattack.

  “Just fucking do it anyway,” Steele grumbled. “When’s dinner? I’m going for a jog.”

  I bowed low. “Whenever the king desires, your humble servant will have the meal prepared and waiting for his highness.”

  Steele glared at me. If I’d been a candle, his gray eyes would’ve melted me into a pile of wax. For a moment, we stared at each other, held in place by the heat swirling around us. Steele broke first, turning on a heel and stomping out the door.

  “He’s not wearing running shoes,” Ziggy noted.

  “I doubt he’s going running. He’s just going somewhere to cool off.”

  “I’ve never seen anyone get under his skin like you can. It’s epic. You’re like the master. Steele’s unflappable.”

  I blew on my knuckles and wiped them across my chest. “I do have a habit of bringing out the worst in everyone.”