So I was attracted to my new wife. So I actually liked spending time with her. And yeah, I was starting to like her in a way that didn’t entirely mean friends-only, but big deal.

We had an agreement, and we both understood.

At least I hoped so, because I could give Emmersyn every single thing she wanted, my body included, but I was still pretty sure my heart would never work right again.

I dropped my bag in the laundry room and scrubbed a hand down my face. It was two o’clock in the morning and I was as exhausted as I was on edge. We’d won tonight’s game in Los Angeles, but barely, and it’d been our hardest pre-season game yet. Dominick lost his cool and ended up with two unnecessary penalties which allowed LA to tie it up with five minutes left in the game.

Fortunately, Joey and Arlo and I were faster than their defense and managed to sneak one past the goalie on a lucky shot when I passed it to Arlo behind their net.

An assist wasn’t bad, but I didn’t have a goal and that always pissed me off.

The flight home was short, and we’d hurried through our post-game routines in order to make the flight, but Alix and I were so keyed up on the way home, I’d almost invited myself over to his place for a drink to calm down.

Because Emmersyn was in this house—probably sleeping—and I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since I walked out the door after that kiss.

We’d texted a few times, but there was no more flirting. She’d texted she’d had a call from John earlier but was too nervous to listen to the message he left, and she’d also had a call from Dickerson’s law firm she also didn’t listen to. I didn’t blame her, but I wanted her shit figured out so she could work on her goals and I wanted her drama with Lincoln in our rearview.

Mostly, I wanted her, and I was getting sick and tired after using my hand to take care of my unending and growing need to have her.

Which wouldn’t happen now since she was probably sleeping in her bed and the last thing I was going to do was wake her up.

I left my gear in the laundry room and headed to the kitchen for a beer. We only had a light practice tomorrow afternoon and another film day.

One might not knock me out, but hopefully it’d calm me down. I had just grabbed the beer from the fridge, the light from it brightening up the kitchen enough I caught sight of Emmersyn.

She was on the couch, and I was right that she was sleeping. She was also curled up on the couch, head to the back cushion. A blanket was draped over her and there was a book in her lap, face down and opened like she’d fallen asleep reading, or took a break to close her eyes and didn’t open them again. Screw the beer.