Wild for You (Hot Jocks #6)(31)

I nod. “Sounds like a plan.”

Wearing her usual work outfit of yoga pants and a shirt with the spa’s logo, she heads off to change.

I’m not sure if I should address the elephant in the room and apologize for last night, but so far, Ana doesn’t seem upset or bothered by the thing we did last night, so I stay quiet.

By the time she returns dressed in a different pair of yoga pants and a baggy T-shirt, I’ve got the pizza boxes open and two plates on the counter. She puts out a bowl of dog food for Hobbes, which he attacks with gusto.

“Help yourself,” I say, nodding toward the spread on the counter.

“Thanks.” She grins before taking a slice of each kind of pizza and a large portion of the salad.

We settle in side by side on my couch and dig into our food.

I glance her way. “So, last night . . .”

She bites her plump lower lip and her gaze darts over to Hobbes. “We don’t have to talk about it.”

I’m not sure what to make of her comment. Does she not want to talk about it? Or does she not want me doing so out of obligation?

I clear my throat and start again. “All right. Uh, how was your day?”

She launches into a story about a client she had today, a woman who was nine months pregnant and suffering from lower back pain. She thought she needed a prenatal massage, but it turned out she was in the early stages of labor. Ana waited with the client while she called her doctor, and then her husband.

Ana looks up at me, a slice of pizza in one hand. “What about you? Keep yourself busy?”

I nod. “Yeah. I, um, actually have a little bit of an update for you. I talked to Coach today.”

“Oh.” Her face falls. She’s bracing for bad news, just like I did.

Clearing my throat, I push my plate away. “The suspension is still in place for seven more games, but Kress is moving down. He’s headed to Wisconsin.”

“Wow.” Ana’s shoulders drop as the news sinks in. “That’s . . . unexpected.”

Nodding, I touch her shoulder. “I know. But it’s good news, right?”

“It is,” she says quickly, meeting my eyes.

A zing of electricity bolts through me at the memory of last night. Fuck.

The sex between us was off-the-charts incredible. But we can’t do that again. It was all kinds of inappropriate of me to cross that line. Still, I can’t bring myself to regret it. Even if it’s never happening again.

She works her bottom lip between her teeth while she considers the news that Jason is leaving. There’s a brightness to her eyes I can’t look away from.

Drop it, dude, she’s not yours. Never will be.

Rising to my feet, I carry my plate into the kitchen. “I’m tired. Think I’m going to turn in early tonight.”

Ana watches me with a curious expression from her spot on the couch. “Okay,” she murmurs while Hobbes settles in by her feet, begging for a scrap of food.

“Good night,” I say as I head off.

The truth is, I’m not even a little bit tired. I just don’t trust myself to be alone with her right now.

Ana isn’t my toy to play with, and I need to remember that.





13




* * *





It’s Time to Be a Grown-Up





Ana



The stunned silence that settles around me after Grant flees to his bedroom under the guise of being tired is deafening.

I lift Hobbes from his sleepy spot by my feet and cuddle him to me. “You’ll keep me company, won’t you?” I murmur, pressing my face into his fuzzy little chest.

He looks at me and yawns.

Releasing a sigh, I set Hobbes down again.

Grant played it off well, but I could sense something was off from the moment I came inside tonight. He was strained and uncomfortable, and trying to put distance between us, like increasing our physical proximity would somehow quash the growing attraction between us. It didn’t. Not for me. But that doesn’t mean I’m not good at compartmentalizing. I don’t have much choice.

I can’t hop from one relationship to the next—from one hockey player to the next. God, what would people say? I have more dignity than that. I can practically hear the rumors flying now about how I’m sleeping my way through the team roster. And I won’t be that girl.

Instead, I’m going to be the girl who gets her shit together, the girl who gets her life back on track and won’t allow one asshole ex-boyfriend to sabotage all her plans. And just because Grant is a gorgeous, thoughtful man doesn’t mean he’s the right man for me. He provided a level of comfort and care last night that I didn’t expect to need—but I did need it. And he freely gave it, generously and without judgment.

But I need to focus on myself and rebuilding my life. Simple as that. I can’t let a moody, decidedly sexy man deter me from that goal.

? ? ?

The reflection staring back at me in the mirror makes a sour face.

I’ve worn this pink sweater twice a week since I started staying with Grant, and I don’t even like this sweater that much. It was just the first thing I grabbed out of my closet that night when Grant swept me away to his condo. That and an assortment of yoga pants and spa T-shirts for work, one ill-fitting pair of jeans, and underwear of the un-sexy variety. Not that there’s any occasion for sexy underwear.