All the Way (Hot Jocks #2)(16)

“And so did our friendship, thank God.”

He chuckles as he chews. “Of course it did. It’ll take a lot more than a little junk grab to break us up, Bec.”

He nudges the remote control closer to me, telling me to turn on whatever I want. I’m still focused on his choice of phrasing. If memory serves, it was a lot more than a little junk grab.

After we finish eating, I’m about to ask how and when our little experiment will begin, when he shifts, leaning back on the couch and placing his arm on the cushion behind me.

I burst into laughter.

“What?” Owen gives me a confused look but doesn’t remove his arm.

“That’s your move?” I chuckle, raising my brow in question.

“If I was making a move, angel, you’d know it. Trust me.” His gaze lands on mine, and a hot shiver runs through me. His fingertips brush my shoulder, and his eyes smolder on mine.

It occurs to me he has a house full of players and friends. Maybe nothing will happen tonight. But then again, Owen is looking at me like he wants to eat me for dessert.

Holy hell. My stomach erupts into butterflies, but I don’t feel uncomfortable at all. I may be a little nervous, but I’m a whole lot intrigued.

“Come on,” he says, rising from the couch.

Owen grabs our plates and discarded containers and brings everything to the kitchen. “I have something I want to show you. Come with me.”

We head into his bedroom, and he closes the door. “Sit down.” He gestures to the bed.

I do while he fishes something out of his dresser drawer.

“You see this puck?” he asks, handing it to me.

I nod and turn it over in my hands. It looks like a regular hockey puck.

“This is the puck from my first national league game.” He sits down next to me.

“Wow. Pretty cool.” I turn it over in my hands. “Why’d you want to show me this?”

“I’d been playing hockey for sixteen years by the time I got called up to the pros. I knew how to play, knew what I needed to do, everything. But knowing what to do and actually doing it—I learned those were two very different things. I was terrified that first game. I thought I was going to puke in my helmet, sure I was going to fuck everything up. I imagined everyone thinking I was a total fraud.”

“You?” I gasp in disbelief. “But you’re always so chill, so relaxed about everything. Nothing bothers you.”

He nods. “I am now. But my point is, it takes time. And it’s totally okay to be nervous, even scared about this, Becca.”

I give him a grateful look, weighing his words.

“It took me months to find my stride, to feel like I fit in on the team, and even longer not to almost pass out from nerves on every game day.”

I think I know what he’s saying. This is my moment. My being called up to the pros moment. I’m thankful that he’s taken the elephant in the room and addressed it so directly. I’m also thankful he’s being so kind and careful with me.

But I honestly wouldn’t have expected anything less from this man.

Setting the puck down on the bed, I touch his stubbled cheek. “Thank you for telling me that.”

His eyes meet mine. “No matter what happens next—hell, even if nothing more happens—just know that you’re awesome for facing your fears. I think it’s pretty fucking amazing.”

He wraps me in a hug, bringing his strong arms around me and holding me close. It feels so good to be comforted by him, just to be held.

His words sink in slowly. Even if nothing more happens, knowing Owen is proud of me feels pretty freaking sensational. He also smells divine—like clean cotton and something spicy and masculine.

I consider his offer for a moment. Do I want anything more to happen? Yes, I decide immediately. I wouldn’t be satisfied if we stopped now before anything happened.

I lean into his embrace, and when I turn my head, his lips find mine. And then, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, Owen is kissing me.

He starts off slow, tentative, in a way I never imagined he’d be. Owen doesn’t do anything slow. He plays hockey with such fierce determination and is so aggressive on the ice, I never imagined him being so tender. But he is. His hand cups my jaw and he tilts my head, carefully deepening our kiss.

The first wet touch of his tongue to mine sends shock waves coursing through my body. It’s by far the best kiss I’ve ever experienced. But just as my heart begins to gallop and my lower half pleasantly tingles, Owen pulls back, breaking our kiss.

“You okay?” he asks, looking at me quizzically. His voice is deep and husky, and I wonder if that kiss had the same effect on him as it did on me.

Breathless, I nod. Is he testing me? Testing the waters? Why is the idea of that so adorable? “I’m okay. Why’d you stop?”

“Things have gotten pretty quiet out there.”

He tips his head toward the door, and I realize he’s right. It’s completely silent on the other side of that door. Their movie must be over, and they’ll probably get curious about what Owen and I are up to, maybe even come looking for us. I wouldn’t put it past Elise. Since we haven’t told anyone about this yet, I appreciate Owen for realizing it might be wise to call a time-out.

“I guess I should probably get going soon. I’ve got to work tomorrow.”