Icing

by Jami Davenport

  I wasn’t going to text Steele. We’d barely communicated the last few days. He must’ve found out I’d watched games with the WAGs. He’d been on fire during that game, and the ladies had heaped all kinds of attention on me, as if I was his girlfriend. I was embarrassed and didn’t know how to explain that our situation was precarious. It was awkward.

  I’d worn Ziggy’s jersey because it was the only one I had. He’d given it to me when we’d first started sharing this condo. My jersey choice had brought on another bout of good-natured teasing from the WAGs.

  Following that evening, the text messages from Steele were short and impersonal. We didn’t talk on the phone at all. I was pretty sure he was aware I’d attended the WAGs’ party even after he’d made his displeasure known. Well, screw him. I had every right to be there.

  I’d come to the conclusion our dating would be short-lived and limited to that one date. I was incredibly depressed about the entire situation, which was odd, considering how new the relationship had been. I’d gotten too attached too quickly. I should’ve known better than to date a roommate. We’d be entering the awkward phase of avoiding each other and being uncomfortable in our own home when we couldn’t. That was no way to live.

  Somehow, I’d find another affordable place to live, which was almost impossible in this housing market.

  I sighed and glanced around the condo. I’d cleaned and tidied as best I could, but I doubted I’d meet Steele’s high standards. To me the place was spotless, except for that stack of mail I’d been ignoring on the kitchen counter. Steele hated seeing a mountain of mail left on the counter.

  I sorted through the mail, making three messy piles and tossing the junk mail into the recycle bin in the pantry. One letter addressed to Ziggy caught my attention, and I frowned, studying the envelope more closely.

  Collection Notice it said clearly on the front.

  There had to be a mistake. Didn’t Ziggy make seven figures? My nosiness got the best of me, and I riffled through the rest of the pile. There was another letter that appeared to be a repossession warning and one more collection notice from a different agency.

  What the hell?

  I scratched my head, trying to make sense of how someone whose salary was as high as his would be getting collection notices. Ziggy was a flake. He most likely forgot to pay his bills. Yeah, that had to be what was going on.

  I buried the notices under some of his other mail and place everything on his nightstand. Ziggy’s finances were none of my business.

  Regardless, my curiosity won out over guilt. I had to know if his car was in the parking garage. I took the elevator down to the parking garage. Ziggy’s spot was empty, but he’d probably driven to the airport. Nothing unusual there. The expensive sports car’s absence wasn’t absolute proof his car had been repossessed.

  I returned to the condo and paced the floor, quickly forgetting Ziggy and fretting about seeing Steele for the first time in over a week. So much had happened since he’d been gone, most of it bad when it came to us as a new couple. Add to that, I’d also gotten more involved with the save the park mission, which I doubted would go over well with Steele.

  Yeah, it was probably for the better if we reverted to being roommates only.

  I wiped the counter clean one more time and surveyed the kitchen with what I thought was a critical eye, though my definition of critical and Steele’s were likely far apart. I heard the key in the lock of the front door, and it swung open. I froze, my heart slammed in my chest, and my freaking palms were actually sweaty. I rubbed them on my jeans and adopted a nonchalant pose, hoping he wouldn’t notice how keyed up I was.

  Steele strode in, deposited his luggage in the hall, and stopped when he saw me. Herc glanced up, opened one eye, opened two eyes, realized the intruder was Steele. He bounded over to Steele as fast as his pudgy body would carry him and danced around his feet. This guy who’d once hated dogs bent down and patted Herc on the head, speaking to him as if he were an old friend. Satisfied he’d fulfilled his welcoming duties, Herc strutted back to his bed and was asleep in less than five seconds.

  Steele walked farther into the room. His hair was mussed, and his gaze held weariness. I’m guessing these four-game, seven-day road trips were hard on a guy regardless of his physical shape.

  “Hi,” he said and glanced at the phone he held in his hand. “You’re up early.”

  “I know. I couldn’t sleep.”

  He nodded, as if he understood. He glanced around the room and back to me, surprised. “The place looks good.”

  “You sound shocked.” I puffed up a little. I’d pleased the unpleasable man. That was cause for celebration, maybe a mimosa. Things were going well so far.

  “I am.”

  I snorted and shook my head. Steele was brutally honest at times, but that honesty was one of the things I adored about him, even while it annoyed me. “Where’s Ziggy?”

  Steele rolled his eyes, obviously disgusted. “Took off with Cave after we landed. No idea where they are or what they’re doing. I’d rather not know.”

  “Wow, isn’t he tired?”

  “I don’t know how he does it. He never stops partying except when he’s playing hockey.”

  “You must be ready for a nap yourself.”

  He nodded but made no move to walk down the hall toward his bedroom. Instead he strolled into the kitchen and brewed a cup of coffee in the Keurig. Then he leaned against the counter and regarded me with those unreadable eyes. My feet were rooted to the floor and my gaze locked with his mesmerizing gray eyes.

  He drew in a deep breath and let it out. “I owe you an apology.”

  “For what?”

  He grimaced as if this conversation was tough for him. “I was an ass to you, and I’m sorry.”

  “Really?” I didn’t bother to contain my wicked glee. I wasn’t entirely sure why he was apologizing, but I’d take whatever I got.

  “Yeah, really. When I heard you were watching the game with the WAGs, I overreacted. I read more into it than I should’ve, and I think you picked up on my annoyance.”

  “A little,” I admitted. More like a lot, but I wasn’t going to reveal how much his irritation had stung.

  “Easton showed me a picture, and you went anyway.”

  “Yeah, I did.” I bristled a little, ready to defend my actions with an ass-chewing if necessary. He didn’t own me. I was free to do as I pleased with anyone I pleased.

  “I’m glad. Looks like you guys had a good time.”

  I had to smile. I hadn’t expected this admission from him. “We did. Those women know how to watch a hockey game.”

  “I can only imagine.” He walked back to the hallway and returned with a large shopping bag. “I’m glad you went and didn’t let me stop you, but I was unreasonably upset about something else. When I saw you were wearing Ziggy’s jersey, I got a little crazy. I can’t explain my reaction, but I know what I felt. I was jealous.”

  “You were jealous?” He was upset because I was wearing Ziggy’s jersey? I was flabbergasted. I’d never expected him to say anything like this. Not in a million, gazillion years.

  “Yeah.”

  “It was the only jersey I had.”

  “Now it’s not.” He handed the bag to me, looking sheepish, which was an adorable look on him surprisingly.

  Incredulously, I took it from him and pulled out the only item inside—a number twenty-three jersey with Bailey on the back of it. “Steele? I…uh…don’t know what to say.” I was speechless and confused. What did this mean? I didn’t want to read too much into it, but he’d admitted he was jealous, and he was sorry, and he’d bought me a jersey. That had to mean something.

  “I didn’t like the person I became when I saw that picture of you wearing Ziggy’s jersey.”

  “It didn’t mean anything.”

  “It did to me.”

  “I didn’t wear it to make a statement other than supporting the team.”

  “I’m making a statemen
t right here and now with this jersey of mine. I don’t see other women when I’m dating someone. I hope you feel the same way.”

  “Of course, but we’re still dating?”

  “Aren’t we?”

  “Okay.” I was dumbfounded. For days, I’d prepared myself for the let’s just be friends lecture. Not for this. “I have a confession too.” I ducked my head as my cheeks flamed. Gathering myself, I raised my head.

  “Oh, yeah,” he stepped closer, his gaze growing predatory and possessive. I liked it a lot.

  “Every time you did something good, they made me take a shot, even though I told them over and over we weren’t exactly dating regularly.”

  He laughed. “We are now.”

  “We are?”

  “Yeah, I fucking missed you. I’ve been fighting this, but I’m tired of fighting.”

  Before I had a chance to react, he swept me into his arms, and his mouth came down on mine. We kissed until we were both weak in the knees, then he placed me on the kitchen stool and poured us both a cup of coffee.

  “Cream, no sugar, right?”

  “Right.” He’d noticed. I shouldn’t have been surprised. Of course he did. Steele noticed everything. He studied me for a moment.

  “What’s wrong?” I said.

  “I thought we’d call it quits because you were mad at me. Besides, I’m gun-shy when it comes to relationships, and I like things my way.”

  I cocked a brow at him. He narrowed his gaze, even as his mouth twitched.

  “I thought I’d call it quits because you were mad at me,” I admitted.

  “I don’t know what I was. Scared? A coward? Ready to bolt at the first sign of problems? Yeah, probably all of the above.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  “Missing you. Seeing you in Ziggy’s jersey. I forgot what my issues were. I forgot everything but you. I’m not good at relationships. I was raised by a single mother, barely remember my dad, and she never dated. I’m learning as I go along. I hope you’ll be patient with me.”

  “I don’t have good examples either. My mother had boyfriends, but they were all into their causes and protests. Most of them were assholes who treated her poorly. All I learned from watching her was that I’d never be with a man who treated me like shit.”

  “I won’t. I promise. If I get a little out of line, you have permission to knock me up the side of the head.”

  “I’m not into violence.”

  “Yet you watch hockey.”

  “There are exceptions. I don’t watch hockey, I watch you.”

  His slow smile was pure smugness with a dab of cocky. “Now the truth comes out.”

  I probably shouldn’t have admitted my secret. It’d gone to his head. I rolled my eyes. “Don’t get too comfortable. I might change my mind.”

  “I don’t think so.” He took a sip of his coffee and grinned at me over the rim.

  “I don’t have a game tonight. Do you wanna go out? Kaden mentioned double-dating.”

  “He did?”

  “No, not really, but I’m sure he’d be okay with it.”

  “All right. I’ll go out with you because everyone deserves a second chance.”

  “Yes, she does.” He laughed, and I joined him.

  “Steele, there’s something else. I probably shouldn’t mention it.”

  He narrowed his eyes and studied me with concern. “What is it?”

  “Have you paid attention to the mail lately?”

  “I can’t say I have.”

  “Not to be nosy, but then again, I guess I am nosy. Check these out.” I led him to Ziggy’s bedroom, where I’d stacked his mail.

  I picked up a few pieces and handed them to Steele. He studied them without saying a word, but his expression tensed, as did his entire body.

  “Ziggy’s always so insistent on picking up the mail,” I noted.

  “Yeah, he is. This doesn’t make sense. He earns a good salary. One third of the rent here isn’t going to break him. Yeah, he has an expensive car, and he parties a lot, but enough to blow through all his cash?”

  “Maybe he’s just careless and hasn’t bothered to pay his bills or has forgotten to pay them?” I offered. “Speaking of the car, does he have it?”

  “I gave him a ride to the airport, and he left with Cave in Cave’s car when we got back.”

  I frowned as I absorbed this piece of info. “The car isn’t in the garage, and there’s what looks like a repo notice in that stack of mail.”

  “I’m sure there’s an explanation.” Steele met my gaze with troubled eyes. He wasn’t convinced the problem was that simple and neither was I.

  Shaking his head, he pulled me into his arms, and worries about Ziggy faded for the moment.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Analysis

  ~~Steele~~

  When I’d walked into the house early Tuesday morning from the road trip, I didn’t know if I was going to cool things off with Cin or heat them up. One look at her, and all my plans to take things slow that I’d made on the plane trip home from the East Coast flew out the window.

  Instead, I recommitted to the relationship, insisted we be exclusive, and got myself in deeper than ever before. And I gifted her with my jersey.

  One weird thing though, I wasn’t upset or wishing I hadn’t made such an emotional, hasty decision. I didn’t regret what I’d said one bit, though on a deeper level, my diving into the deep end with Cin disturbed me. I didn’t have a plan to follow, with contingencies and protections built in. The plan I’d crafted earlier was thrown by the wayside the first chance I got.

  I needed a new plan.

  Later.

  I didn’t have time right now. I had hockey to play and a hot female to woo—did guys even talk like that anymore? Probably not. I was a dinosaur and somewhat proud of it.

  Cin and I went to a movie that night because Kaden and Delaney weren’t available. I’d bet my hockey skates they were in bed and not sleeping. More power to them. Someone should be getting some. I wasn’t, but being a good boy had been my choice.

  We sat in the back row and missed most of the movie. Instead we made out like teenagers. I loved making out with her. I never got enough of her. She liked to push the envelope, and I was more than happy to push it with her. She’d worn a short skirt to the movie. When I slid my hand up her thigh, I realized she wasn’t wearing underwear. I fingered her to an orgasm while she jerked me off. Afterward, we cleaned up in the bathrooms and headed home.

  On the way home, Cin propositioned me, but I held strong to my resolve to date for a month before we slept together again. This celibacy thing made both of us crazy, especially considering how much we did everything but fucking, but I was determined to exercise some self-control. Two and a half weeks to go and counting.

  Cin had Wednesday night off. With the help of Delaney, I planned a special surprise for her. At least, I hoped it’d be special. We had a game that night, and Cin was going with Delaney and the WAGs; she just didn’t know it yet. This was my way of showing her I was sorry and wanted her to be part of the WAGs and wearing my jersey.

  After I gave her a long, sloppy goodbye kiss, Ziggy hit me up for a ride to the game.

  “Sure,” I said, “but where’s your car?”

  “In the shop.” He avoided my gaze, and I knew in an instant Ziggy’s car had been repossessed. I just knew.

  “Let’s go then.” We drove the short distance to the arena, and I parked in the underground garage reserved for players, coaches, and VIPs.

  I was early as was part of my ritual. Ziggy was usually late, but he didn’t grouch about the extra time spent at the arena rather than sleeping. In fact, he wasn’t his usual joking self on the ride there. He didn’t say much at all. Just buried his head in the phone and texted madly.

  We got out of the car, and I walked around to the passenger side, waiting for Ziggy to get out.

  He started to walk around me, but I halted him. “Got a minute?”

 
; Ziggy eyed me suspiciously. Ziggy was never suspicious. In fact, he was too fucking gullible if you asked me. Always participating in some stupid get-rich-quick scheme or letting others take advantage of him. Funny how I hadn’t noticed that before, yet now I did. Ziggy actually had a heart of gold, and he was an easy mark for dishonest people. Maybe his financial woes weren’t just a matter of forgetting to pay bills. Maybe he couldn’t.

  “Is everything okay?”

  The shutters slammed down over his eyes, and he blocked me out, just like that. “Why wouldn’t I be?” he shot back defensively. Easygoing Ziggy rarely got angry or defensive, not even on the ice. He had the least penalties of any player on the team.

  “You’re awfully quiet.”

  “Are you insinuating I talk too much?”

  “Uh, no, buddy, calm down. I’m only expressing concern. No need to go off on me.”

  Ziggy blew out a breath and nodded. “Sorry, just got some things on my mind. I’m under a lot of pressure right now.”

  “If you ever need to talk—”

  “Hey, dudes, ready for the game?” Cave walked up to us and slapped Ziggy on the back. My withering glare kept him from doing the same to me. Ziggy abandoned me and hurried to follow Cave inside. I stood by my Toyota and waited until the door closed behind them.

  “What’s going on with him?”

  I turned to face Kaden, who pointed with his chin toward the team entrance door.

  “I don’t know. Something is.”

  “Yeah, he was hungover the entire road trip.”

  “That’s nothing new.”

  “No, I guess not, but he seems to be partying harder than before.”

  “Is that humanly possible?”

  “I wouldn’t have thought so a month ago, but I’ve seen it with my own eyes.” Kaden’s expression was one of concern. Everyone liked Ziggy. He was a likeable guy. He was also a helluva hockey player. We jokingly called him Superman because no matter how hungover he was, his performance on the ice hadn’t been affected.

  “Eventually, his game is starting to suffer. No one can keep up that pace indefinitely, even if he is only twenty-four.” I sighed, waging an inner battle at playing the big brother role to a guy who was older than me, even though I felt far older when it came to maturity.