Overtime(9)

His shoulders dropped, his grin gone as he looked away, reaching for the bowl that Lacey has pushed to the side. “He won’t be here.”

“Really? Why? That’s weird,” she said, watching her older brother, who was obviously uncomfortable. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing. He can’t come.” He then disappeared, and Kacey looked across the island at Lacey.

“What the hell was that about?”

“I don’t know,” Lacey lied with a shrug. But the thing about Lacey was that she couldn’t lie for shit.

“You’re lying to me,” Kacey said, surprised. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” she said again, still ignoring eye contact. Before Kacey could ask anything else, the side door opened and Kacey promptly forgot her next question. Because in walked a freaking Greek god of sexiness. Tall, very tall, taller than her, and that didn’t happen much since she was almost 6’1”. He was carrying a couple cases of beer with ease, his shoulders flexing as the tank he wore pulled to the side due to the cases against his chest, showing off one hell of a pec. It would be a great place for a tattoo, but he was bare, his virgin bronze skin only covered in light blond hair. His eyes were the color of the ocean, his blond hair brushed to the side, his face full of sharp lines that were surprisingly beautiful. His nose was a bit crooked, but that was a hockey player for you, and at least he had all his teeth. Fake, yes, because they were bright as hell and blinding her as he set down the cases, grinning over at Lacey.

“Hey, Lacey, where do you want me to put these?”

Lacey didn’t even smile at him, obviously still thinking of their previous conversation. But Kacey has already forgotten it and was consumed with Mr. Tall, Light, and Hot. “Over here, please. Sorry, my head is running a billion miles a second.”

“No problem,” he said in a low tenor of a voice, lifting the cases and taking them to the cooler Lacey had opened. “Almost ready for that baby, yeah?”

She smiled up at him as he placed them in the cooler. “Almost.”

“You look beautiful, as always.”

Reaching over, she squeezed his arm with a grin pulling at her lips. “Thanks, Liam.” She then looked over at Kacey and her brow rose. A slow, Cheshire cat grin covered her lips and she asked, “Hey, Liam, have you met my sister-in-law Kacey yet? You know, she is the new athletic trainer for the Assassins and also a gold medalist.”

God bless her. Free babysitting was in Lacey’s future, anytime she needed it.

Liam’s eyes then moved over to Kacey, and an appreciative grin came over his face. Oh, yes, nice smile.

“Kace, this is Liam, he plays for the Assassins.”

“Wow, hey, Liam Kelly,” he said, reaching out to take her hand. They shook slowly, their eyes locked.

“Kacey King.”

He grinned sheepishly, almost in a boy next door way, and it hit Kacey square in the gut. “Wow, you are like King’s twin. Way prettier, of course.”

She got that all the time and wasn’t offended. The way he said it too made her belly warm with desire. He had a sexy voice, low, but still not raunchy the way she had come to love. He didn’t look like the kind of guy who would flip her upside down and eat her out, but he did look like the kind of guy who wanted a wife and family. And since that’s what she wanted, she smiled sweetly at him, batting her eyes as Lacey grinned. He seemed like a clean-cut, stand-up guy, maybe not the type she usually went for—but the type she had been going for had been screwing her over lately. Plus, he played hockey and that was a win in her book. No ring and he wasn’t glued to his phone yet—while most guys would have put the cases down and pulled it right out—and he had great eye contact.

Hmm. He could be the one.





“Jordie, how are you feeling?”

Looking up from where he was staring at the crack in the floor, Jordie’s brow rose. His stance probably told the poor little mousy therapist, whose name he still didn’t know, that he was bored. That he hated this place with all the passion in his soul. That he would rather be face first in a beehive but, yet, she was still grinning at him. He leaned back in his chair, one leg up on the rung of the chair beside him while the other hung to the side. His arms were across his chest in a very aggressive pose and he was working his lip, praying for the time to pass. It was easy to say that rehab blew big donkey dick and Jordie was ready for it to be over.

But in case she didn’t know that, he figured he better remind her.

“Feel great. I hate this place and I’m ready to go.”

A few people nodded in agreement. It was mostly men, fellow athletes who were too far gone and needing to clean up. Jordie was nothing like these guys and didn’t understand why he was in here with pill poppers and true alcoholics.

“We still have about an hour left.”

“Yeah, I know, but I mean out of this place.”

Her brows came in. She was a cute little thing, nice legs and okay tits. She had sweet little green eyes though and a small little mouth that resulted in a small little meditative voice. “You have forty-five days left, Jordie.”

“Don’t remind me,” he groaned, leaning back and letting his head drop.

“In the forty-five days we’ve been together, you have shared absolutely nothing with me and nothing with the other therapist before me at your group meetings.”