His eyes meet mine, softening. “I know that.”

“And yeah. I mean, I figured I was out of commission and wouldn’t be much use to you tonight.”

Something flashes across his features and his mouth turns down. “We could have still hung out. Even if we couldn’t …you know.” His eyebrows raise suggestively.

Something about this warms me. And I have no idea why it didn’t occur to me that he’d want to just hang out even if sex wasn’t on the table. “I – I’m not sure what to say to be honest.”

“It’s okay.” He nods to the bag in my hands. “How’d I do?”

I pull the box out and take a peek. “You did perfectly. Thank you for this. I owe you.”

He shakes his head. “It was nothing. You don’t owe me anything.”

He’s being so kind to me, and I suddenly feel bad that I just assumed he wouldn’t want to hang out. I’m not sure why I made that assumption, I guess because we’re supposed to be keeping things casual, but in this moment, this feels anything but casual. He feels like a concerned boyfriend and while it’s not an unwelcome feeling, it is confusing.

“Have you eaten? I ordered sushi, we could share,” I offer. We both know one sushi roll wouldn’t be nearly enough food for him, but I hope it’s the thought that counts.

He leans in and brings one hand to my cheek. “I have groceries in the car. Owen and I are going to cook when I get home.”

His fingertips on my skin send tingles racing down my spine. “Okay.”

Justin steps forward, closing the distance between us and touches his lips to mine. His kiss is soft, sweet, and suddenly I feel a little lost. A little helpless and entirely too warm.

But then he’s pulling back, smiling at me sweetly. “Feel better.”

I hold up the bag. “Thanks again for this.”

“Anytime.”

I watch him leave, and then wander back into the kitchen. My sushi, which two minutes ago looked so appetizing suddenly isn’t as appealing. I fix my plate and carry it into the living room, setting it on the coffee table as I pick up my phone.

Still thrown off by the turn of events over the last half hour, I fire off a quick text to Becca as I try to figure out what this new, achy feeling in my chest is all about. It’s like when he walked out that door, he took some part of me with him.

I’m so fucked.

Her reply comes right away.

What’s wrong??

I muster up my courage and decide to call her. This is too complicated to get into via text message.

She answers on the first ring. “Did something happen?”

“No.” I shake my head. “Yes. Maybe. I don’t know!”

“Start at the beginning. Tell me what’s bothering you.” Her tone is soothing and I take a deep breath, trying to clear my head.

“Justin was here. He stopped by to bring me tampons.”

“Oh. That’s it? That’s the only reason he was there?”

“Yep,” I confirm, exhaling slowly as I lean back against the couch. “I’m so fucked, aren’t I?”

“You’ve fallen for him,” she says, tone matter-of-fact. She knows me well.

As soon as that blue box of tampons was in my hands, it was like something shifted. God, that sounds so stupid, but it’s true. It suddenly made this entire fling into something more, something real. I realize now I had been lying to myself when I said that I’d be fine when this ended. Fine is the exact opposite of what I’d be. Shattered? Yes. Broken? Uh-huh. I realize now that I love him. I always have.

“Yeah,” I whisper, voice shaky. “I’m in love with him, Bec.”

“Oh, honey,” Becca sighs.

We both know Justin isn’t capable of love and monogamy and commitment. He’s the kind of guy you have a one-night stand with and then brag to your friends about the next day. I’ve always known that, and it’s the reason I tried so hard to keep my emotions out of this and just let my body have its way. But apparently I’m not built for casual sex. I have no idea why I thought I was.

“What are you going to do now? Are you going to stop seeing him?” she asks.

“I don’t know,” I say, but the truth is, I do know. I just have to work up the courage to actually do it.

24

* * *

Without Lube

Justin

I bought her fucking tampons? What the hell has happened to me? Last season I was playing the field, perfectly happy to fuck any woman with a nice set of tits and a mild appreciation for hockey, and now all I want is the one woman I can’t have.

I have no idea when this happened, or when she started to become my whole world, but something has shifted. Elise is all I think about. When I’m on the ice—it’s her I’m skating for. When I’m home in Seattle, she’s the person I want to spend all my free time with. When I’m travelling, my brain is constantly calculating the difference in our time zones and when I might get to talk with her. I hardly recognize the man I’ve become.

I’m officially fucked.

Up the ass, as Asher would say.

Without lube, Teddy would probably add.

And Owen—well, I can’t even let myself think about what Owen might say. I have a pretty good idea how he’d feel about me dating his sister and let’s just say, the conversation would end with his knuckles bloody and my nose broken. It’s not a road I want to venture down with him.

“You ready for this?” Owen asks from across the basketball court.

I nod and hold up both hands. He tosses me a ball as the rest of the guys file out onto the half-sized court. It suddenly seems even smaller with six huge hockey players stretching, talking trash and vying for position. The new team owner had a basketball court added to the training facility’s gym last year and we’ve made good use of it, meeting up for quick scrimmages between game days as a way to keep our minds off hockey and stay relaxed.

We divide up into teams—me, Owen and Grant against Teddy, Asher and our backup goalie, Morgan. As the game begins, I feel myself relax, dribbling, passing and shooting. There’s something about playing a sport, besides the one I’m paid to perform at the top of my game, that calms me. It must be the same for the other guys, because we all fall into an easy rhythm.

“I’m open!” Grant shouts.

Owen passes him the ball. Our captain shoots and misses, but I get the rebound.

We play until we’re sweaty and tired, and then shuffle to the benches at the sidelines to grab water and towel off.

I sit down on the floor to stretch, only slightly out of breath and Owen joins me.

“You up for going out tonight?” Teddy asks Owen as he sinks down beside us.

I used to go out with them any chance I got—and now it all seems so unappealing to me—trolling bars, looking for hookups whose names I won’t remember in the morning.

Owen rolls his shoulders. “Nah. Not tonight. I told Elise I was going to come to her school thingy tonight.”

“What school thing?” I ask, making sure to keep my voice casual. Elise has already told me about the event, but I can’t let Owen know that I know.

I move onto a hamstring stretch while Owen fills us in. “They frame and sell some of her preschoolers’ artwork and the proceeds go to charity. I’m going to stop in and buy some shit, and then take her to dinner after.”

Teddy wipes the sweat from his brow with the hem of his t-shirt. “She’s not still broken up over that guy, is she?”

Owen shakes his head. “She’s cool.”

“Has she talked about dating again?” I ask. Teddy’s already opened the door—I might as well step through it.

“Not really.” Owen gives me a critical look. “Which is fine with me. Elise is the type to fall in love once and stay with the dude forever. She doesn’t need to get serious about someone yet. She should just take her time. Ya know?”

As I weigh his words, an uneasy feeling settles inside me.

“I’ve gotta go. I’ve got a massage appointment in an hour,” Teddy says, standing.

I nod. “Have fun with Thor.”

He flips me off. Thor is the nickname we’ve affectionately given the Incredible-Hulk-sized team massage therapist. He’s from Sweden and he’s at least six foot six. Sports massage is often uncomfortable, especially when you have bruises and old injuries, but with him, it can be a whole new kind of torture. And all of us are pretty damn sure he enjoys inflicting that pain on us a bit too much.

Owen gets up too and starts to grab his stuff—a sweatshirt, a duffle bag, a water bottle. And every second that passes, a knot tightens in my stomach. He’s heading out, planning to shower at home while I head into the gym and finish the workout I was halfway through when the guys arrived for the game.

“Hey, can I talk to you?” I jog up and stop beside him.

Even if it’s the last thing I want to do, I decide this is exactly the conversation I should be having with Owen. I need to grow the fuck up and just talk to him—man to man. We’ve been friends for too long, and I hate the thought that there’s a secret between us. Maybe there’s a way to make it so everything doesn’t fall apart. A knot forms in the pit of my stomach as I wait for him to respond.

Owen gives me a curious look. “Sure. About what?”

“Elise,” I say, mouth suddenly dry.