I really was. In every sense.

Factoring in tonight’s loss, I was still coming out way ahead. Fuck the game. What was hockey, again?

* * *

After committing several traffic violations and executing the worst parking job ever, we made it back to my place and went straight to my room. I followed Bailey inside, shutting the door behind me and locking it.

The first thing I wanted to do was ditch all these goddamn layers. I’d taken my suit jacket off in the car, but I was still in my white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to my forearms, plus gray suit pants. And she was in jeans with a red button-up plaid shirt.

Very cute, and yet very much in my way.

The clothes needed to go—now. At least some of them.

As I took a step toward her, the doorbell rang downstairs. Irritation bordering on rage gripped me. Fucking hell, why was this happening? I swear to god, if this was Ward somehow interrupting for the third time, I might kill him—best friend or not.

“Should you…?” Bailey looked up at me, forehead crinkled in question.

Definitely not. Unless the house was literally on fire, I was more than happy to ignore all distractions.

I shook my head, pulling her closer. “I’m not expecting anyone.”

I slid a hand up her neck and grasped her jaw. She looked up at me, gaze soft. I knew in that moment that I was done, a goner. Not just in over my head; I was well past the point of no return.

Falling, fallen, fucked. In the best possible way.

I tilted my head, leaning in to kiss her, and her eyelids fluttered shut as our mouths came together. She parted her lips, letting my tongue slip inside. A soft groan escaped the back of my throat; she tasted better than ever, each and every time.

Her fingertips dug into my shoulders, and I slid my free hand around the curve of her waist, down to squeeze her ass. Somehow, kissing her both satisfied my desire and fueled it.

Then the doorbell rang twice in a row, followed by an insistent banging on the door downstairs. Bailey jumped, startling, and we pulled apart.

“Maybe it’s important,” she said.

At this point, it fucking better be.

“Okay.” I sighed, reluctantly releasing my hold on her. “I’ll go check.”

Sprinting down the stairs, I quickly adjusted myself so I didn’t commit some kind of act of indecent exposure in the process of answering the door.

It wasn’t Ward or anyone we knew, nor was it important. It was a pizza delivery guy with enough food to feed a small village who’d gotten the wrong house.