Awk-Weird (Ice Knights, #2)(43)
She watched his game? He rubbed a towel across his still-wet-from-the-post-game-shower hair and grinned. Hell yes.
“I don’t know who eleven is on the other team, but I don’t think it’s right that he just slammed into you like that. Isn’t that against the rules? And I’m not really watching you like some obsessed fan or anything. I just turned on the TV and your game was on. How did you do that? It’s like being at a hotel and the TV always turns on to the channel advertising the hotel spa.”
Tess paused, and the unmistakable revving-engine sound of Kahn appreciating however she was petting him came over the line. Yeah, Cole could relate. The woman had fantastically talented hands.
“And that’s pretty much all I have to say and probably more than I should,” she said, her words coming out in a rush again. “I’m just gonna hang up now and hope you never listen to this and the voice-to-text function that previews voicemails for you malfunctions.”
If he had to track down a software developer and threaten to toss him down in front of the Zamboni going at full speed—which still wasn’t fast—he’d make sure that the deletion of that message would never happen.
…
Tess was still fuming about the less-than-helpful conversation she’d had with her uncle, the landlord from hell, about her apartment—no, it wouldn’t be habitable for a while and no, he didn’t have an estimated date—when she noticed the voicemail alert on her phone. It was hell waiting to listen to it until she’d hustled her new delivery driver out the door with a morning’s worth of flowers and the last customer picking up a bouquet left, but it couldn’t be helped. She wanted to savor the sound of Cole’s tempting-as-warm-honey voice and bask in the sizzling awareness that made her heart beat faster when she heard it.
Weird? Yes. It was her, after all. No one expected normal from Tess Gardner, especially not herself.
“Damn,” Cole said, his voice rough as if he’d woken up early to make the call. “I was hoping to catch you before you went to work. First, yes, that hit was totally legal. It’s a check and it’s part of hockey. That’s why we wear the pads. Not to one-up your Kleenex and voicemail trivia, but did you know that George Merritt of the Winnipeg Victorias was the first goalie to wear leg pads? He strapped on cricket pads for the 1896 Stanley Cup challenge game.”
She had not known that, and she filed it away along with the mental image she had of Cole lying in bed, shirtless with the sheet riding low on his hips, his hand gliding down to disappear beneath it as his eyes closed and— Holy crap, Tess. That’s not a factoid; that’s a fantasy, and they most definitely do not get filed together!
“Do you play bar trivia?” Cole asked. “You really need to join a league. Maybe we should start one. Between the two of us, we’re better than Wikipedia. Another game tonight and then it’s a travel day out to—” The thunk-thunk-thunk of someone banging on a door stopped him mid-word. “Calm the fuck down, Christensen; I’m coming.” He grumbled a string of curses. “Sorry about that. I gotta go. Maybe we’ll get to connect before the game.”
Tess stared down at her phone. She would not play it again. She would not. Nope. Not gonna— She hit the play button.
…
Losing sucked. It hammered Cole right between the eyeballs and ate its way into his brain, leaving nothing but doubts about his skills and his ability to make the changes for these new plays. Not to mention it really pissed him off. He wasn’t alone in that. After the ass-kicking the Ice Knights had gotten in Minneapolis, the team bus had been silent and hostile on the way back to the hotel. It wasn’t until he got back to his room that he finally checked his phone and the vise holding his balls in a tight grip loosened up.
“Imagine that, we’re voicemailing again.” Tess’s voice came through like a glitter rainbow, which made no sense, but there it was. “So about your bed. Kahn is annoyed you’re gone and did a very cat thing and peed on it.”
And he’d thought the fur balls getting yacked up and claw marks on his furniture were what he needed to be concerned about.
“Don’t worry! I washed it, but I figured you should know. The good news is the doctor doesn’t think it’s medical and because the automatic cat litter cleaner is working as advertised, so it’s not a problem with a too-full litter box. The vet thinks it’s because of separation anxiety. Basically, he misses you and is trying to mingle his scent with yours.”
That was bizarre and gross and kinda sweet all in one. Lying back in the hotel bed, Cole flipped off his shoes and laid the phone down on his chest on speakerphone, the volume set loud enough that it was almost like having Tess in the room.
Who in the hell are you and what have you done with Cole Phillips?
“I’m taking Kahn with me to work today and tomorrow so you don’t have to worry about him doing it again,” Tess continued. “It’s Paint and Sip night with the girls, so I won’t be around before the game. And then I’m meeting with my uncle and the plumber early tomorrow about my apartment. He tried to blow me off with a bunch of nonanswers last time we talked, and I’m bringing my lease agreement this time so he can see exactly what the penalties will be if he doesn’t stop dragging his feet on this. Fingers crossed that gets everything moving, and then I’ll be out of your hair and you won’t have to worry about Kahn peeing on your bed again. Voicemail you later.”