Off the Record (Off #3)(60)

She shrugs her shoulders. “What can I say...I love hockey.”

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“Sure. I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

I turn to the bartender and order another Camelback Pale Ale.

“What’s your name?” I ask her, handing her the beer.

“Melissa.” She sticks her hand out for me to shake, and her grip is firm but her skin is soft. I feel a stirring. Oh, not below the belt, but something inside of me says I should put my moves on her. Maybe the old Linc Caldwell is ready to come out and play.





I open the door to my house and walk in. Melissa follows behind me, looking around at the mess. “Sorry it’s so disorganized. I haven’t unpacked everything yet.”

“Not a problem. I understand.”

Dropping my keys on the kitchen counter, I turn to look at her. It wasn’t hard getting her to come home with me. In fact, had I not suggested it, I’m sure she would have. We spent about an hour at the bar, talking and drinking. I had finished off a few more beers and I was nice and drunk. I liked this feeling. It numbed the pain and I hadn’t thought about Ever in the last hour.

Well, shit...I thought about her just now, but I’m not going there.

Melissa watches me, promise in her eyes.

Come on, Linc. Make a move. She’s yours for the taking.

When I don’t move toward her, she takes the lead, peeling the front of her dress off of her shoulders and shoving it to her waist. Her breasts bounce free and I can’t help but roam my eyes over them.

“What are you waiting for?” she asks in a husky voice.

What am I waiting for?

I take two steps and then I’m kissing her. My hands go to her breasts and I knead them, eliciting several breathy moans from her. She fumbles at my pants and it doesn’t take long for her to unzip them and push them to my knees. She then drops to hers, intent on sucking me down.

I grasp her head and look down at the ebony curls framing her face. Her blue eyes are staring up at me, almost waiting for permission. My hand runs through her hair and it’s stiff from an overload of hairspray. It’s not soft, like Ever’s.

Her eyes aren’t as wide or sparkling.

Her skin looks over baked by the sun.

When she wraps her hand around me, I feel...nothing.

Because she’s not Ever.

Stepping back quickly, I pull my pants up. “I’m sorry,” I grind out. “I can’t. This isn’t going to work.”

I expect her to pout, to beg or even to whine. Instead, she stands up and pulls her dress back over her breasts. “You’re in love with someone, aren’t you?”

I give her a hard smile. “Am I that obvious?”

She gives a light laugh. “Any man that steps away from that is either gay or his heart completely belongs to someone else. And Linc Caldwell...I can tell...you’re not gay.”

“I’m really sorry,” I tell her again. “I didn’t think that would happen. I was trying to move on.”

Her look is wise and sympathetic. “Maybe that’s your cue that you shouldn’t be moving on.”

I call Melissa a cab and walk her to it. She gives me a chaste kiss on the cheek. “It was nice meeting you, Linc. Good luck to you.”

“Thank you,” I tell her. But what I need luck for I don’t know. Just because I couldn’t let her blow me didn’t change anything between me and Ever.

That was still over. I just apparently needed a bit more time for the old Linc Caldwell to get his game back.





I’m standing outside of Linc’s house, petrified to move toward the front porch. I had felt so empowered to come here, and beg his forgiveness. Now...I am full of doubt and fear. This is probably a dumb idea. He’ll probably throw me off his property and I’ll go back to New York with my tail between my legs.

But then movement catches my eye. I can see Linc walking through what appears to be the living room. I can’t see him clearly but my heart rate escalates. A yearning courses through me that is almost painful. And my feet start moving toward his front door.

I ring the doorbell once, and he opens it almost immediately.

I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t the bland, impassive look on his face. I think I had been hoping for joyous, and this wasn’t it.

“Hi, Linc.”

“What are you doing here?”

Okay, so that’s not very welcoming but I can’t turn around and leave yet. “Can I come in...to talk?”

He stares at me for a few seconds, and I think he may refuse. Then he steps aside and motions for me to enter.

His house is a mess. There are packing boxes all over the place, even though he’s been here for almost a month. Empty takeout containers and water bottles litter the living room. This hits me hard, because Linc is a freakishly clean person. He couldn’t stand anything to be out of place at his condo in New York.

“I like your house.” I’m making up lame conversation because I don’t know how to go about groveling to him. I’m hoping inspiration will strike me at some point.

“Thanks.” And that’s all he says. He looks at me expectantly but he’s wary. It hurts that he looks almost afraid of what I might say.

I walk over to the French doors that lead out into his backyard. “I didn’t take you for one that would want to maintain a yard.”