Gauging the Player: A One-Night-Stand Sports Romance (The Playmakers Series Hockey Romance Book 3), стр. 28

What was the matter with him anyway?

“Take it Easy” sang through the speakers, and he paid attention, slowing the furious pace of his pounding heart. He got back on his route, got himself back on track, letting the thoughts come as he drove home, hoping to sort them out.

Clarity struck moments later, and he realized exactly what the matter was with him.

Today he’d loved arriving with Lily. Showing her off. Listening to the guys go on about how he’d scored. Even Mark’s crude comments had brought his dormant caveman self to life. It was nice to have someone to introduce to his friends and teammates. To fetch a drink for. To share a conversation with inside a cluster of people. To stand close to. It didn’t suck to be there because he wasn’t holding up a wall by himself, dodging everyone’s concerns, counting the minutes before he could make a polite escape. He’d wanted to be there, and it had all been because of her.

He’d believed—scratch that—he’d fooled himself, even if for only a short while, that they might be a couple. He’d gotten way ahead of himself, imagining bringing her to team events, having her wait for him after a game, just like Natalie waited for T.J. After all, Lily had fit in so well with Natalie and the other women. It had felt so natural. Hell, he’d even let the illusion grow legs and go a little crazy, picturing himself following her into her cute little house and getting his fingers tangled in those silky Goldilocks curls. About getting her naked again. Running his hands and lips over that soft skin. Spending the night and waking up with his body curled around hers.

Jackass!

The laugh that escaped his chest wasn’t a funny one. More of a frustrated release at his own absurdity. What an idiot he’d been to let his mind wander down a primrose path. The shock of seeing Derek marching out of her house had done a thorough job of erasing Gage’s mirage. Hell, it had blown it to smithereens.

After parking his car in the garage, he walked into the kitchen and flooded it with light. It was a gorgeous kitchen—dark wood, rich granite, lots of space for a cook to spread messes while whipping up something tasty to share. But it was an empty kitchen. A space he rarely used. Though the world beyond the huge window over the sink was dark, he pictured himself standing there, the backdrop of woods beyond, and someone’s arms wrapped around his waist while he hurried through the dishes so he could pick her up and carry her to the bedroom upstairs. Her legs would be flailing, and they’d both be laughing.

Right now the kitchen was dead. Quiet. Soulless. Sound echoed through the room, and it wasn’t kids giggling or a woman calling his name.

No, it was a meow.

He stepped into the family room just off the kitchen, flipped on an outside deck light, and peered through the sliding glass door at an orange tabby.

He opened the slider and let the stray waltz in, its tail held high. Hobbes meowed a greeting in response, looking for all the world like the king of the castle—until Gage walked toward the pantry and rustled a bag of cat food. The cat shot in like a dart, mewling and rubbing himself against his legs until Gage set a bowl down and filled it. He ruffled the cat’s scruffy neck while the thing chowed down.

He had no idea where Hobbes had come from. He’d just shown up one day and become a frequent visitor. Though Gage had asked around and even posted a few flyers, no one had claimed the cat.

“Jesus, Hobbes,” he said softly. “Maybe it’s just you and me against the world.” For the first time, Gage wondered if the cat had been checked by a vet lately. “You got a home, buddy? Or am I it for you? If so, that really sucks because I’m not around much, and my only family is a crazy, toothpaste-wielding Grandma, a mom whose sole mission in life is to marry me off to someone I’m not in love with, and a sister who lives too far away to have my back.”

Huh. Maybe he and the cat could help each other out.

Gage turned on the gas fireplace, picked up his acoustic guitar, plopped down on his cushy leather couch, and started strumming “Take it Easy.” He wasn’t ready to head to his dark bedroom yet.

He had no idea how much time had passed when he startled awake to loud purring coming from a hot spot on his chest. He was stretched half-on and half-off the couch, Hobbes staring at his face as if it were something to eat.

His phone also seemed to be purring on the coffee table, and he put the cat aside to pick it up. A text from Lily glowed. Make it home okay, Professor? I wanted to thank you again for today. It was a lot of fun.

Apparently, the message had come in over an hour ago. He hesitated a moment—was she sleeping with her daughter? What if he woke them up by texting back? He’d take the chance.

Got home fine. Just hanging with Hobbes. I had a lot of fun too.

To his great delight, her reply came instantly.

Glad you have company.

He couldn’t stop himself. What about you? You have company too?

Just me and D, who’s sound asleep beside me. Did you know little girls snore?

“D” had to be Daisy and not Derek, right? Right. An image flitted through his brain of two sets of blond curls, one belonging to someone small and the other to someone smaller, snuggled together under a fluffy comforter. The image curved a corner of his mouth.

Gage: Had no idea. Learn something new every day. You still up for coming to the game Tues?

Lily: I’d love to. OK to bring Ivy?

What he wanted to say, but refrained