#playerdown: Players to Men Page 9

  He lifted his stare to the sky and rolled his shoulder again, then he glanced at me.

  My breath caught, and our gazes held. Hand-saw in one hand, he slowly made his way to where I sat, surrounded by small piles of wilting, soggy weeds. I swiped the rain from my face.

  “This isn’t going to stop anytime soon,” he said, stopping a foot from me and sweeping back his wet hair. “Let’s go inside.”

  Too aware of him and the intensity of his gaze, I shrugged. “I don’t mind the rain, as long as it’s not thundering.” Since it never did in this place, I was okay. “I want to get this section done as soon—eeep!”

  The saw dropped. He swept me into his arms.

  “What are you doing?” I squeaked, grabbing him around the neck, weeding hoe still in my hand. He didn’t seem to care that I could have accidentally hurt him with it, as he strode through the rustling rain toward the house. “I have to get that strip done, or I’m going to be set back—”

  “It’s a damn deluge,” he cut me off. “We can barely see anything. You’re so stubborn. Tomorrow’s another day. You can do it then.” He stalked across the patio, dragging water into the kitchen, his sneakers squelching on the floor. He set me on the counter, planted his hands on the granite edge, on either side of my hips, caging me. Warily, I eyed him, but he lowered his head, the water from his hair dripping onto my thighs.

  The corded veins on his forearms appeared tense. The urge to soothe him took hold. I clenched my fingers.

  “Charli…” He looked up. “I don’t want you to hate me because of what happened with—”

  “No,” I stopped him, flashing a hand up. “It’s not your fault.” I hated saying it, but he already knew anyway. “My…my mother is what she is.”

  He shut his eyes, and his head lowered again as if my answer mattered a great deal to him. “I know she’s your mother, and she matters to you…”

  I blinked, shocked. He was excusing my mother because I cared about her?

  He lifted his head, those blue, blue eyes pinning mine. “Charli, here’s the thing… Hell, there’s a fuckload of things we need to talk about, but most important is you. I like you—”

  “War, you want to sleep with me.”

  “—and I need you.”

  My stomach heaved at his words. God knew I liked him, too, and there was this undeniable attraction that continued to grow and overwhelm me despite everything. Meeting his penetrating dark stare, I blew out a trembling breath, aware I would be risking everything. But I’d been alone for too long, and I desperately needed a little warmth in my life.

  So why not?

  Maybe this would clear the turmoil in my head and give me clarity again.

  Before I lost my nerve, I blurted, “I have four days until I’m finished here. We’re both adults, and we know the score. No ties. We hook up and get whatever this is out of our system—”

  “That’s not what I mean.” A tick started on his jaw. He straightened, expression stiff, as if I’d insulted him, and took a step back. “Look, my agent’s a pain in my ass…” And then he was talking, something about his agent wanting us together, and my brain stopped computing. I gaped at him, feeling as if fire ants had burrowed beneath my skin as he got to the end.

  “Y-your agent wants us to con-continue, to pretend—” I couldn’t get out the words stuck in my throat.

  War didn’t want me. It was my help he needed.

  Embarrassment scorched me like flames.

  “Yes. He wants the hashtag girlfriend of hashtag centerman of the Cheetahs to be hashtag real.”

  I blinked like an owl, trying to stifle my rampant emotions and stuff them where they belonged, in a damn armored truck and shoved into the bay, never to resurface. I needed to learn to zip my mouth. “Why?”

  “Could be any of the many things he harps on about,” he muttered, pushing back his wet hair. “Maybe he heard about me punching Cal during practice. Said I needed to keep it clean, you know, public image and all that, and get their focus off my wild side until the deal’s signed.”

  This was about a deal—a freaking deal and image control? Oh, God, I was an idiot.

  “No.” I shook my head as if it would remove me from the nightmare I found myself in. “No…”

  His eyes narrowed. “You posted the snapshot of us on Instagram.” Mouth tight, he stalked off to the laundry basket on the living room floor, near the couch.

  Dammit. I swiped the water dripping from my hair down my face. He was right. While he might have said what he had to those girls, it was just gossip, hearsay if his groupies posted it. This was all my doing.

  I brought myself into this hot mess. Not him.

  Me.

  8

  WAR

  Frustration torquing me, I grabbed a towel from the laundry basket where I’d dumped the dry clothes a few days ago and scrubbed my wet hair. My mind roiled, every damn thing fucking with my head and hauling me back into a past of blood and pain.

  This tension between us sucked, and worse, in my anger, I’d let that little info slip in the garage about my fucked-up life. One she’d thankfully forgotten about since she hadn’t asked.

  I tried to talk to her. She offered four fucking days of a sex-a-thon! When I wanted a chance for something more, something real.

  My jaw hardened. I glanced back and found her staring at the floor.

  Yeah, I knew about the dickhead pilot from Mulligan’s who’d hurt her badly. Why else had she avoided relationships in the last two years?

  Hell, I didn’t need Charli to do the fake-couple thing to get the endorsement. I’d managed to reel in my shit for a while now. Though my temper and hook-ups weren’t exactly fresh news, it wasn’t doing me any favors with Charli. If I slept with her, she’d have her time with me, and then she’d walk. She clearly didn’t trust easily.

  Reeling in my frustration, I grabbed another terry cloth and crossed to her. She was still staring at the puddle of water on the floor as if it fascinated her…or she was trying to avoid looking at me.

  “Look, forget it,” I said, tone cool, handing her a towel. “If you don’t mind waiting till this afternoon, I need to get some work done on the guest room.” I wiped my face, flung the towel on the counter, and strode off.

  “So you’re prepared to risk losing thousands in endorsements?”

  At her quiet voice, I stopped in the corridor entrance and glanced back to where she sat on the counter. She clutched the unused towel on her lap.

  “A hundred and fifty K,” I said, my gaze tracing her high cheekbones, down to her stubborn little jaw and her wet, wavy hair framing her gorgeous face.

  Her lush mouth dropped open. “Are you crazy?”

  I forced myself to focus. This was the only damn card I had left to play. “Why do you care? All you want is the sex,” I taunted. Low of me, but then I was a bastard, and I didn’t play fair. I’d use anything to get her to give me a chance.

  Faint color streaked into her tan cheeks, and she bit her lower lip.

  “Well then, let’s go get it over with—four days of nonstop sex!” For the first time, it irritated me to my rioting skull. Probably because for the first time, I was sober—well, I had been for several months. Now, I finally found someone I wanted for longer than a quick fuck, and it felt like a canyon had opened between us.

  I stalked back, scooped her off the counter, and headed for the stairs. Her eyes widened. Her fingers snagged my hair. It took a moment before her disbelief receded, and she found her voice. “War, dammit, what are you doing? Put me down!”

  I ignored her demand. In the bedroom, the only one with a bed anyway, I tossed her on the mattress. She bounced a few times and glared at me.

  I kicked off my sneakers, pulled off my wet shirt and dropped it, then unbuttoned and dragged off my wet jeans. “Undress.”

  My order broke her gaping. “War, wait, wait!” She sat up.

  Expression cool, I removed my socks, tossed them on the wet pile on the floor, then sto
od there in my damp boxer briefs. Her gaze did a quick up-down of me, and the red on her face deepened at my half-mast cock. Yeah, I could do nothing about the fucker, currently.

  She hastily lifted her eyes to mine. “All right. Since I started this, I will play your girlfriend on one condition.”

  I folded my arms over my chest and waited. Who the heck knew what she would say with that sharp tongue of hers.

  “There will be no others while we’re together. I mean that, War. I don’t care that this is fake. I’m sick to death of being cheated on. If I see or hear anything, we’re done.”

  She had no idea, since I’d gone stone-cold sober, hooking up was the last thing on my mind, and then I met her.

  I inclined my head. “Anything else?”

  Her gaze glided over my body, but then she glanced away. “It’s in name only, that’s it.”

  Is that so? I narrowed my eyes. First, she’d wanted sex with no ties, and now she did a complete turnaround? Yeah, right. Been there, done that, didn’t remember most of it, and I had no desire to go back to meaningless one-night stands. Not after finding her.

  “What was the fuck-a-thon all about then?” I raised my eyebrows. “Thought you were dying to get into my pants?”

  “As a fling, yes,” she shot back, color deepening her already flushed face. “But since this is for—wait, how long will this pretense be for?”

  Damn, she wanted everything spelled out while I was playing it by ear. “Probably until the preseason games start.”

  “And that is when?”

  She really didn’t know anything about hockey, did she?

  “Last two weeks in September.” I shrugged, rubbing my abdomen. Of course, training began even earlier, but I refrained from saying so. Her gaze followed my hand on my stomach, and my damn blood plowed south. She chewed her lower lip for a second, still staring at my lower abs, brow creasing, then she said, “About six weeks or so, then?”

  How the hell is she not affected while I burned for her? “Yeah.”

  “Okay. So yes, that’s how it has to be.” Then she smiled. “We can be…er, frenemies.”

  Not if I have anything to say about it!

  After seeing my best buds find happiness, I wanted that, too, even with my fucked up past. And for some reason, everything inside me was set on this stubborn girl who sparked a ray of light in me.

  “Besides, it’s what your agent wants,” she added, stating loud and clear how it was to be between us. Too bad it didn’t roll with me.

  “Since when do you care what my agent thinks?” I planted my hand on my hips. Aaand naturally, her gaze lowered again. Hell, I just might have to dive into the icy Pacific to cool the fuck down or die of blue balls.

  She frowned. “You said—”

  “I said we had a shitload of things to discuss, Blue, and that was the first one I wanted to get out of the way because I didn’t want you caught unaware if this cropped up in the future. And with Miles, he’d poke his nose where I don’t want it. The next would have been you and me.”

  “Fine, as long you stop calling me Blue!” She crawled off the bed and stalked out.

  I pressed a palm downward, trying to ease my erection then I remembered what she said out in the rain before bringing her inside. “What setback, Charli?” I asked her.

  She pivoted at the door and frowned at me.

  “You mentioned it outside?”

  “Ohhh, right.” She sighed, flicking back her wet hair. “Not working on the weeds today means working an additional day—”

  “So you’d rather risk getting sick than stay an extra day?” I asked.

  “It’s not about that.” She rubbed her palms on her wet shorts. “I have a work deadline. I didn’t get anything done last night.”

  “You have a job already?” Dammit, was she going to leave? “Where?”

  “It’s with a publishing house. I have to send the rough layout for a story to them in a week.”

  Thank fuck she didn’t have to be there physically.

  “I thought you worked at a gallery?”

  “I did back in Germany, and I had an offer here, too, but…” She lifted a shoulder in a little shrug. “I wanted something different and applied for this. I got the job to illustrate children’s books.” Her brow creased. “Oh, crap, I almost forgot…” She retrieved her cell from her pocket and started swiping and clicking, biting her lip as she read. And I was forgotten.

  “What, Charli?” I growled. This girl could sure ramble off into another line of thought without stopping for breath.

  “Huh?” Brown eyes lifted to mine. Blinked. “Oh, I need to check for an apartment.”

  My gut clenched. I’d be damned first before letting her put more space between us and relegating me to the sidelines as ‘that hockey player,’ or ‘frenemies’ as she referred to us. Not happening.

  “I have a suggestion, I mean, since we’re a couple now, and you still owe me for the weeds.”

  She cocked a taunting eyebrow. “I’m your girlfriend. I should get a pass.”

  “You’re my fake girlfriend. There’s no shirking your responsibility,” I took pleasure in reminding her, “so you’ll be on your knees…weeding. And when you make it real, you’ll be on your knees for me,” I deadpanned

  She burst out laughing. Her carefree laughter evaporated the heaviness inside me like fog in sunlight. At least she hadn’t said in your dreams, giving me the smidgen of hope I longed for.

  “Here’s what I propose. We stay here—”

  “War—”

  I held up a hand, stopping her. “Look, all this traveling takes up time, too. This is where I’ve been living for several weeks. I only go to the city to get in time with my coach and trainer and practice twice a week. And the rest of the days, I’m here, working on the place. There’s food, internet, and you already have your clothes with you.” Before she found another loophole, I added, “You can have my room, do your work. It’s the only room with a bed, anyway. I’ll take the couch. When the weather’s good, you can weed.”

  Her jaw dropped, then snapped shut.

  I bit back my smile. I didn’t care about the damn weeds, but her reaction was worth it.

  She scowled. “If that’s the way you treat your girlfriend, we won’t last very long. But for now, fine, I’ll stay here. Can I have your truck keys, please? I’ll need my things.”

  “I’ll go get them.” I strode past her, out to the landing.

  “War, wait, wait.” I glanced back. Laughter brimmed in her eyes. “You aren’t really going outside in your underwear, are you?”

  “Who’s gonna see me?” I asked, tone nonchalant, when I wanted to grimace. “It’s private property. The place’s massive, full of trees, and fenced off. Total seclusion.” I jogged downstairs in my boxer briefs.

  Damn. This girl. She twisted my insides into a mess of knots so complex that I couldn’t even think clearly. But more, she made me smile.

  CHARLI

  A little while later, showered and changed, I sat on the bed and pulled on socks to warm my chilled feet, so glad the cold shower had cooled me down after having a conversation with War in his underwear and with his arousal visible…

  God! The guy was temptation personified.

  It had been damn hard to concentrate on our convo and pretend I wasn’t in the least bit affected at the sight of all that hotness in front of me. Thank God I was a woman. I let out a heartfelt sigh.

  The double glass doors leading to a wooden deck overlooking the backyard drew my attention. Despite the rain and gloomy day, the glorious stretch of the moody gray-blue sea drew me. It must be a wonderful sight on a sunny morning.

  I rose and finger-combed then parted my damp hair, pulling the pieces into twin knots on my head and securing each with hairgrips, taking in War’s spacious bedroom. The walls were painted in a neutral shade of…I tried to think of a color… icy fog—yes!—that was it. It offset the white ceiling trims and deeper gray marble floors in a soothing harmo
ny.

  War was a neat freak. Not a thing was out of place. Even his covers were military crisp, except for the minor creases from when he’d dumped me on it earlier. Just thinking about him, and my heart clopped faster. Jesus, I was his girlfriend!

  In name only, sure, but still.

  How could I have been so wrong thinking he only wanted to hook up?

  Grimacing, I shut out thoughts of what a tangled web I’d fallen into and unpacked my stuff, using the space he’d given me in his dressing room. My things put away, I removed my laptop and tablet from my duffle and left them on the bed, then set my novels on the bedside table.

  Smiling at the sloth’s head poking out from my tote, I rescued him and crawled on the mattress. “You, Sid, stay right here, next to me, no climbing anywhere…” I leaned the sloth against the pillow then stopped, arching an eyebrow at the creature. “What am I saying? By the time you do come to my side, I’ll be done with work.” I snorted-laughed at my own joke and piled the pillows behind me, still trying to come to grips with the fact I was girlfriend to the worst of the players in San Francisco.

  I shook my head. This was all my fault, so no point in crying about it now. I just had to suck it up and keep my attraction—heck, my feelings—under lock and key. And I was good at that, at shielding myself.

  I dug into work. The notes and story from the author downloaded for Laye’s Starflight Adventure made me smile. Man, to be so young again, living in the utopia of a child’s world without a care. I had that for a brief moment when Dad was alive, and Mother actually acted like my mom.

  Shutting it all out, I got cracking, jotting down notes of what I needed from the author’s specifics in his email. Then I did a brief sketch of the first few pages of the scenes on my drawing pad for myself. Tablet connected to my laptop, I flipped on my stylus and started working on the roughs—imaging scenes and the layout for approval…

  It was the tightness in my shoulders that finally had me stopping. I set my tablet and pen down and stretched, popping my stiff spine. A quick glance at my phone showed it was almost three. I’d been working for four hours straight, and War hadn’t disturbed me once?