Rushing the Goal (Assassins #8)(44)

Gag. “Oh, f*ck. Shut up!”

Laughing, Avery cleared her throat. “It’s not a big deal, really. Stop stressing.”

“So you’ve done it with your daughter’s coach, who is also your potential client?”

Avery paused at that. “Oh, also the dude who plays with your brother in the NHL. Okay, well, that does complicate things a bit.”

“A bit!” Lucy screeched, shaking her head, and then wrapped her arms around her legs. “Avery, I’m sitting in my car, no panties, with one shoe on. I’m a mess. A water pipe busted in the wall of my apartment, and they have to tear down walls and fix shit. I’m homeless.”

“Oh, Lucy—”

But Lucy stopped her. Why had she said all that? Shit. “No, you know what? It’s no big deal. I’m gonna find some panties, pull them up, and then I’m gonna be okay. I’m always okay. I’ve got this.”

“Lucy—”

“No, it’s cool. I don’t know why I called. I’m fine. Just a lot at once, and then Benji, yeah, he got under my skin. No big deal. I’ll handle it with grace. I’ll design his house and nothing will come of it. We are adults. People f*ck all the time, no big deal. Maybe he’ll pay me more,” she said it as a joke, but even she didn’t laugh. It wasn’t funny. She wasn’t a whore; that wasn’t her. But last night she almost was, and she could feel Avery’s sympathy coming off her in waves through the phone and against her face. But she didn’t need that.

She was Lucy Fucking Sinclair, and she would handle this. She had it. She would stuff the stupid, crazy feelings back down, lock them up, and get on with her life. She didn’t have time to complicate things further with Benji. She obviously needed his job because she had nowhere to live and could maybe lose the building for her shop. No, she had things to worry about, bigger things than stupid feelings.

Feelings that were completely and utterly insane to have.

It was one night.

Get your shit together, she thought as she shook her head. What, she slept with a guy for the first time in years, and all of a sudden, she liked him? That was insane. Stupid, even. God, she was a dumbass.

“Okay, no big deal. Don’t freak. I’m good—”

“Did you ever think that maybe it’s okay to be a little down sometimes? To reach out for help?” Avery asked, her voice a little hard. “You can’t be strong all the time, and that’s okay.”

“Yes, I can, and I’m good. I promise. Little lapse of freak-out, no biggie. Don’t worry, I’m good. I’ll call you later. Rick just pulled up,” she said, but it was a lie. Before Avery could call her on it, Lucy told her she loved her and hung up. Leaning back in her seat, she closed her eyes. Sometimes she was convinced she sucked at life. She was good with Angie, or at least, she tried to be, but everything else…? Yeah, she was a mess. It really wasn’t fair. When was she going to catch a break?

As she watched the time, she didn’t listen to anything on the radio. No, she was too busy replaying every single caress of Benji’s hand. The sweep of his lips against her neck and jaw. The way he held her gaze and she felt beautiful. Safe. That was what she missed most and what was so hard to leave behind when she was carefully wiggling out of his hold.

The protection he gave her.

She wasn’t sure what she needed protection from, but when she was in his arms, she felt like nothing could even come close to touching her. Nothing could stress her out. No, she was lost in those arms, the thickness of them. The warmth. She missed the warmth. It was just easy with him. She didn’t have to try so hard. She was just herself, and he was into it.

Blah.

She also wanted to know more. Yeah, he was a great lay, best she had ever had—not that there was a long list to compare him to—but still, he was wonderful. So damn attentive, and those hands… Jesus. But, besides that, she wanted to know who he was. His house didn’t give her anything to work with. It was so bare. Well, except that she knew he was a nerd who played video games and collected toys, but there weren’t any pictures. Not even of him playing. It was weird, and she wanted to know more.

She wanted to know what the tattoo on his chest meant.

Laying right over his heart was a pair of angel wings with the words, “Your wings were ready, but my heart was not.” She figured he had lost someone. Maybe his mom or dad or something. She wasn’t sure, but she had this burning in her stomach from wanting to know. Though that would be such a bad idea. A date was completely off the table now. She had already slept with him. He’d had his face between her legs; what else could even come from a date?

Trouble, f*cking trouble.

More stupid, dumbass feelings.

No, she needed to stay away from him. Far away.

She wasn’t sure how that was going to work, but she’d figure it out. She would.

Or she’d probably end up in bed with him again.

It would go either way.

God, was she a whore?

Before she knew it, an hour had passed and she’d convinced herself she was the scum of the earth when Rick pulled up. Reaching for the tennis shoes she had grabbed out of her apartment, she put them on. She got out as Angie ran toward her, hugging her tightly.

“I missed you,” she said against Lucy’s stomach and she cringed. She should have showered. Did Angie smell him? Ew, stop thinking that!