He’d given me a perfunctory kiss on each cheek and got straight to work installing the extra lock, while my teammates looked on in amusement.

To be fair, Bryce’s helpfulness is one of the things I’ve always loved about him. All the players who ever lived with us did chores. “This eez not a hotel,” my mother would say, pinning a schedule to the refrigerator. Everyone in our home was responsible for taking out the trash or washing dishes or vacuuming the floors, at least when they weren’t on a tour bus in the hinterlands of Canada.

Bryce’s contribution was on another level, though, right from the start. He’d call on his way home from the rink to ask if my mother or I needed anything from the store. He fixed doorknobs that had stopped turning, he hung shelves, and changed the oil in my mother’s car.

“So resourceful,” my mother used to say. “The finest young man I’ve ever met.”

Forty minutes ago, when Bryce had installed the lock on our front door to his satisfaction, I’d brought him a soda and led him into my room for a moment away from the prying eyes of Fiona and Charli.

“Listen, I appreciate your concern,” I’d said. “But I feel very safe here.” I’d sat down on the bed and patted the spot next to me. “I’m only two blocks from the rink. It’s a nice neighborhood.”

He’d sat down, too, but at a respectful distance, his serious blue eyes nowhere near my cleavage. “Your father thought it would be a good idea.”

“Hmm?” I’d asked, distracted by my own agenda. Kiss me you fool. Why won’t you just lay me out on this bed and make love to me? Finally?

“The lock,” he’d said, giving me a frown and putting the soda on the bedside table. “Your father worries about you, too. You know…” He’d turned and climbed onto the bed on his hands and knees, making my heart leap. But it turned out he’d only been looking out the window. “Merde. You are only on the third floor. And these burglar bars are loose. Someone might climb the fire escape. I will tighten them.”

That had been forty minutes ago. He’s already made a trip to the hardware store for just the right kind of screw.

Although the right kind of screw, in my opinion, is not something you can get at the hardware store.

It’s no use, anyway. We have a big team meeting in a half hour—the Bruisers and the Bombshells together. So if I’m going to convince Bryce to ravish me, it’s going to have to be another day.

Having given up, I left him to his screwdrivers and came out here to stretch my sore muscles on the rug and listen to my teammates’ chatter. We’ve known each other for four days, but they’ve been intense ones. I’ve moved to a new city, and I’ve had my first two grueling practices with my new team.