Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

HAYES

She has a box of sex toys.

A box!

Not one or two, but a whole fucking variety pack of them—one for each day of the week and then some.

I haven't been able to stop thinking about it the entire day—not when we closed the door on the rental truck, nor when we unloaded more boxes into her storage unit than at the donation center. Not even when Fox and Lawson helped me get her stuff moved into my house and then left me there alone with just her, as Flora is out with Hutch and Auden for the day. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it all, and I wish to fuck I could.

Especially the part where my dick got hard. It's not my fault, though. I saw them, and my mind immediately went to sex, something I haven't had in months, which isn't the norm for me. Truthfully, though, until today, I haven't given my newfound abstinence much thought. I've been far too busy trying to be a functional adult for Flora to even worry about the next time I'm getting laid. Given my history, I'm sure most people agree that isn't a bad thing.

Now that the thought has crossed my mind, it's right at the forefront, and it's all thanks to Quinn and her damn box of sex toys. I wouldn't mind taking them for a spin. Does she use them regularly? Where does she use them? In her bed, her hand tucked under the blankets and hidden like she's doing something naughty? Or does she spread her thighs without a care in the world? Is she loud, or does she moan softly? Does she?—

The floor squeaks, and I spin around like I've been caught doing something I shouldn't be—and I guess I have. There my new roommate stands, her brown hair in a braid that hangs over her shoulder, wearing an oversized cream-colored sweater, her jeans dark and form-fitting. Those damn ridiculous earrings she loves so much dangle from her ears, hippos in tutus today. Flora would love them.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For helping me move. And for the bag of butterscotch candies I found in my room. You didn't have to do that."

I shrug. "I owed you, remember?"

She smiles, and I hate how much I like it, especially when the dimple near the bottom of her lip pokes through.

"So I was wondering…" She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Could you give me a hand with moving my dresser? It's not quite where I want it."

It's the first thing she's asked of me since I saw her sex toys, and I find it amusing how timid she is asking such a simple question.

"Sure. I just called in some Chinese. I hope that's okay. Hutch and Auden should be back with Flora around the time the food arrives. I promised them dinner for watching her today."

She nods. "That sounds good. I'm excited to see her."

I grin. "She's been talking nonstop—or at least as nonstop as Flora talks, meaning she's mentioned it more than once—about how she can't wait for you to live here with her. I think…I think you make her happier than she's ever been before."

Quinn frowns. "That's heartbreaking. She's seven. Her life should be nothing but happiness."

Sometimes, with my life now, I forget that not everyone's had the same childhood. I can relate to Flora and her shitty upbringing far more than I care to admit. I was a lot like her at her age, quiet and uncertain around other people. Then I grew up and realized I could use those people like they've used me all their lives—I could get lost in them, escape the dark corners of my mind. So, that's what I did…and it bit me in the ass more times than I can count.

I hope that's not what Flora is doing with Quinn and whatever bond they're forming is genuine. Flora needs that. And I might need it too.

That's later though, something way far down the road when I'm at a more stable point in my life and not barely hanging on.

"Lead the way," I tell Quinn, nodding toward the hall.

She turns, her absurd earrings swaying with the movement, and I follow her to her bedroom, trying very hard to keep my eyes off her ass and my mind off her sex toys.

Fuck. There I go thinking of them again.

She leads me to her dresser, standing on one side and pointing to another.

"I'd like it over there instead." She points to the wall beside the window. "It'll give me more natural light while doing my makeup."

I want to tell her she doesn't need makeup, but what do I know? She could be wearing it right now, but I wouldn't even be able to tell. I've seen the magic women can work with that stuff. Sometimes, when I think they're wearing nothing at all, it's a lie.

"Sure. Ready when you are."

I grab one end of the dresser, she is stationed at the other, and we lift it. I hold the bulk of it so she doesn't have to do much of the work. If she notices, she doesn't say anything as we maneuver it to the spot she wants. She stands in front of the mirror, leaning forward to fix something on her face, presumably testing the light, and my eyes drop straight to her ass.

It's wrong. So fucking wrong. She's my new nanny, for fuck's sake. But I can't help it. Not when it looks so good in her tight jeans.

She stands up straight, and I snap my eyes away, pretending I wasn't looking, but the second our eyes collide in the mirror, I know one thing for sure—she saw. Her nostrils flare, but that's the only reaction I get before she spins and points to her bed.

"I want you there."

"Excuse me?"

Her eyes widen. "I… Uh…" She clears her throat. "I meant I want to move the bed too, so could you go over there?"

Oh. That makes more sense.

I move to where she's pointing, and we adjust the bed to how she likes it. Why she didn't boss Lawson and Fox around to do this is beyond me. That's what I hired them for. And by hired them, I mean blackmailed them into it, reminding them I had pictures of them doing nefarious things from our last trip before Lawson became a good boy for his girl, Rory, and stopped going places with us. Fox just didn't want anyone to see that he certainly felt like a woman dancing in the aisles during the Shania Twain show we went to.

"You good over there?" I ask after getting my side situated.

"Ugh. No. I think a screw came loose on the headboard."

"Here. Let me."

I round the bed, snatching up a screwdriver, and squeeze in beside her. I'm not overly handy with tools, but I can at least tighten a few things to get them to sit right. I crank the screw down, then tighten two others, giving her headboard a shake. It's not going anywhere.

"There," I say, rising to my feet.

But it's a mistake because Quinn is right there , watching my every move, and I run right into her.

"Oh shit. Sorry, I'll just?—"

"No, let me?—"

We move at the same time, both in a panic to escape the other. Our feet tangle together, and we go tumbling right onto the bed. Instinctively, I roll my hand under her head to help break her fall, which is exactly how I end up on top of her, completely trapped and peering down into wide hazel eyes.

I should move—I know I should—but I can't seem to find the strength to do so. She's soft beneath me, her body pressed tight against my own as I fit perfectly between her legs. Am I imagining it, or did she just rock her hips against me?

Her lips are parted just slightly, and her breaths are uneven. She darts her tongue out, running it along her plump, rosy lips, and I track the movement. Are her lips sweet? Or does the taste of her match the sass and salt in her words? Will her kisses be soft and tentative, or will they be hard and passionate?

"Hayes, I…"

I kiss her.

I fucking kiss Quinn Benson because I can and because I want to and because she brought a box of sex toys into my house and I can't not kiss her right now. She groans against me, her hands crashing into my hair as she pulls me closer, and I let my full weight fall against her. It's a perfect fit, my hard cock right between her legs. I can feel the heat coming off her and I can't get enough.

She hooks her leg around my waist, and I run my hand down her side, cupping her ample ass and pulling her tighter to me. She moans a little and I use it as my chance, pushing my tongue through her lips and into her mouth.

I'm a fucking goner.

She tastes sweet, like those damn butterscotch candies she loves so much, and like everything I thought she would. But as good as it feels…as good as she feels…I know it's wrong. We shouldn't be doing this. I shouldn't be doing this.

But I also can't seem to stop.

Distantly, I hear a sound. Something familiar that I can't place, but the worry of it fades when Quinn drags her nails over my scalp with a light caress, her hips driving up into mine, and I rut against her like a possessed man.

Stop , my head screams.

Not a fucking chance , my body says.

"Yo, Hayesy!"

I pause. Was that…?

"We're back!" Hutch calls as I faintly hear the click of the front door, then the unmistakable sound of Flora's footsteps.

That has me snapping into action. I scramble off Quinn, who looks just as mortified as I feel, and I hold my hands out like I'm trying to tame a wild animal when that wild animal is me.

"Shit. Fuck. Shit. I—I— Fuck. " I scrub my hand over my face…over my lips…anything to brush away the evidence of what I've just done. "I'm sorry. I?—"

"It's okay," Quinn says, sitting up, her breaths heavy and her voice wobbling with panic. "We just got lost in the moment and…"

That's all she says, also unable to find the words.

I nod, swallowing thickly. "That won't happen again."

I march out of the room before I do something ridiculous like kiss her again. That won't happen again. It can't.

Even if I really fucking want it to.

"Thanks again for watching her," I say to Hutch as we dig through the remainder of the Chinese takeout container, both of us looking for whatever scraps we can get.

I thought I had ordered enough, but it was clear when Quinn dug into it that I was gravely mistaken. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised given how loudly her stomach growled earlier and the way she ate that slice of pizza like it was the first meal she'd had in days. Looking back now, it could have been.

"Noft a pro em," my captain says, his mouth full of garlic chicken and brown rice. He chews and swallows. "Sorry. Not a problem, man. She was fun."

I tip my head to the side. "Really?"

He laughs. "All right, maybe fun isn't the right word, but she was easy. Didn't throw a fit and wasn't rude, so that's a successful outing to me." He shrugs.

I look over at Flora, who is seated at the dining room table we've only used one other time. Quinn is on one side of her, Auden across. They're debating their favorite Disney princesses, every now and then looking to Flora to chime in, who mostly says she hasn't seen a movie or doesn't know who they're talking about. And here I thought watching Disney movies was a rite of passage. Not for Flora, it seems.

I turn back to Hutch. "You don't think that's…unusual?"

He considers me a moment, then shakes his head. "Is she a little quieter than most kids? Sure. But is it unusual? Given that she's been thrust into this new life out of the blue, I'd say no, not unusual. She's likely just a little scared and maybe a little sad about not having her father around anymore."

Oh, I highly fucking doubt that. I bet she breathed the biggest sigh of relief the second she was placed in the care of literally anyone else. There's no way she misses that hellhole. When I flew out to get her, I took a detour by his house. I only made it three steps inside before I had to walk out or I was going to do something I'd majorly regret, like find the motherfucker and wring his neck myself.

But Hutch is likely right about the rest, or at least I hope he is. If not, that means my brother screwed her up worse than I thought, and it's going to be really hard to kick his ass when he's behind bars.

"You know," Hutch starts, setting his Chinese to the side, and I get the feeling this is about to be a serious conversation if he's putting his food down. "I haven't talked to you one-on-one much this offseason."

Oh god. Here it comes.

"How are you doing with everything that's going on?"

Yup. Knew he was gonna say that.

I sigh, setting my own food to the side. "I'm fine."

"Good." He grins. "I'm impressed, you know."

I shift from one foot to the other. "What do you mean?"

"By you. How you're handling all this."

I shrug. "No big deal."

"But it is," he argues. "You've come a long way. You're a good guy, and I'm proud of you."

I bet he wouldn't be so proud if he knew that not even an hour ago, I had my new nanny pinned to the bed and was kissing the hell out of her.

"You've matured over the last few months. Definitely not that same punk-ass kid who came here from the Carolina Comets and caused trouble. You're older and wiser, and now you've got this big responsibility, and you're handling it." He glances over the dining table at Auden. "Way better than I handled shit when I had to make big decisions, that's for damn sure." He shakes his head like he's shaking away the memory of how things fell apart with them for a little while, then he looks back at me. "So, yeah, I'm proud. That's all."

I swallow down the emotion that claws at my throat. I didn't realize I needed to hear all that until now. This has been hard with Flora, and it feels good to be recognized for the work I've put in.

I nod once. "Thanks, Captain. I appreciate that."

He rolls his eyes when I call him captain. "Don't start that shit."

"Sorry, Captain." I smirk, then dodge the dish towel he flings my way.

"So," he says, flicking his head toward Quinn. "How's that going so far?"

I trail my eyes to the table where the girls are still talking, not paying us any attention at all. Quinn is now resting both elbows on the table, one hand propping her chin up and the other playing with her hippos-in-tutus earrings as she gives Flora all her attention. She's looking at her like the kid is saying the most important thing in the world, and for all I know, she could be.

As if she can feel my stare, Quinn turns, and our eyes lock for the first time since our kiss. All throughout dinner, we didn't even so much as glance in the other's direction. But now…now I feel like I couldn't look anywhere else even if I tried. I see her swallow, see how her lips part and her breaths grow heavier. I see the way she wiggles in her chair just the slightest.

Then Flora sets her hand on her arm, and all the tension bursts like someone just stuck a needle into a balloon. She's the first to look away, and thank fuck too, because if she'd looked at me like that a second longer, I might have forgotten I'm not supposed to kiss her again.

"Good, I guess. She just got here," I say, dragging my eyes back to Hutch.

He's staring at me, his lips tipped up in the corners, and now I'm the one wiggling. Why the fuck is he looking at me like that?

"What?" I mutter.

He just laughs, shaking his head lightly. "Nothing, man. Nothing at all."

But his words don't feel like nothing. They feel like something. Even so, as badly as I want to know what, I'm too damn chicken to ask.

Hutch and I transition to talking about the upcoming season as we polish off the rest of the Chinese and the clock ticks closer to Flora's bedtime. Somewhere in the middle of our conversation, Auden and Hutch lock eyes, and Hutch turns to me and says it's time for them to go. It's as simple as that—one look, and they know what the other is thinking.

"Thanks again for watching Flora today," I say sincerely as I walk them to the front door.

"Any time." Hutch pats my shoulder, giving me that same proud grin he did earlier.

I fidget under his stare, trying to ignore it and how damn good it makes me feel.

"She's a doll." Auden smiles, then wraps me in a hug before I can protest.

Hutch glares at me over her shoulder, and I make a show of squeezing Auden extra tight.

"And Quinn, too," she says softly for only me to hear. "I like her a lot. Don't do anything to scare her off, okay?"

Oh you mean like kiss her on her first day of living with me?

I nod, releasing her before my captain breaks my hands and I can't start the season.

"I'll try."

"Good." She sends a wave to Quinn and Flora, then loops her arm into Hutch's. "Puh- lease tell me we're stopping for ice cream on the way home?"

He sighs, but there's no annoyance in it. It's pure delight, and it's funny to see how deeply my grumpy teammate, who once swore off love, has fallen for his girlfriend. I'm betting there are wedding bells in their future sooner than either of them thinks.

I close the door behind them, then turn and point to Flora.

"It's bedtime for you."

For the first time ever, she groans in protest, and I'm not even mad about it because she's acting like a kid, not an eighty-year-old trapped in a little body.

"But can't I just have five more minutes?" she begs.

Quinn rolls her lips together, hiding her smile. "How about you take a shower, then I'll read you a story instead of going straight to bed, deal?"

She nods and races off toward the bathroom.

"No running!" I call after her for the first time, and I only kind of mean the words as she skids to a quick walk instead.

Maybe this was what she needed all along: being around people more, going out more often. Maybe she's more like me in that aspect than I realize.

I turn back to Quinn, who has disappeared completely.

Wait. No, not completely. She's in the kitchen, stacking the empty food cartons and tossing them in the trash .

"I didn't hire you as a maid, you know that, right? I have a housekeeper already. I don't need two."

"Are you saying you were going to leave this mess for them to clean up instead of picking it up yourself?"

I scoff. "No."

Though there's a small chance I would have. Okay, so a big chance. A lot of things may have changed around here since Flora came to me, but my gumption to clean up after myself only extends so far. I'm not a pig by any means, but I have been known to put off cleaning up a bit until the housekeeper comes.

"Well, I'm still cleaning up. You bought dinner, so it only feels right."

"You know this gig comes with free meals, right? I'm not going to expect you to cook for Flora and me every meal. And I'm going to be lazy more often than not and just grab whatever's quick."

She frowns, which isn't at all what I expected when I said free meals .

"You're a terrible hockey player."

I huff out a laugh because there is no way she's standing in my kitchen insulting my playing. "Excuse me?"

She shrugs, reaching into the cabinet under the sink and producing a container of disinfectant wipes. "I'm just saying. Your game starts with your diet, and if you're eating like crap, you're playing like crap. If I were getting paid three point seven five million a year to play a game, I'd want to make sure I'm earning the paycheck and not just showing up to cheer my buddies on from the bench."

She quotes my AAV as she wipes down the counter like she's been reading too many hockey blogs. Thing is…she has a point. I've been getting some variation of this lecture from older guys for a while now. First, it was Cameron Lowell, my last captain on the Carolina Comets. Then it was Locke and Hutch and even Pritchard, the really old veteran who hardly talks to anyone. I guess it wouldn't hurt to maybe pay attention to what they're saying.

"Fine. But you're still not expected to cook for me, got it? You're here for Flora, and that's it."

She flicks her hazel eyes to mine for only a moment, and I'm suddenly transported back to her room and her bed. That definitely didn't seem like she was here for Flora only. I need to fix that, set the record straight, and assure her that there will be absolutely no other incidents like that between us—never, not once. She needs to know she can trust me on that.

"Quinn, about earlier. I?—"

"Done, Just Quinn!"

I whirl around to find Flora standing barefoot with her pajamas haphazardly pulled on and her body still sopping wet and dripping onto the floor.

"That was an awfully fast shower, little flower," Quinn says, tossing the disinfectant wipe into the trash, then wiping her hands on her shirt as she walks by me, avoiding all eye contact.

"I was in there forever!" Flora argues.

"That was three minutes— tops . Are you sure you cleaned everywhere?" Quinn lifts Flora's arms like she's checking for dirt, and given that Hutch and Auden took her out to Discovery Park today, she really might be. "Did you make sure to get the fleas out of your hair?"

"That was not a flea! I told you it was just a leaf."

"Uh-huh. Whatever you say, kid."

Flora huffs playfully, and I'm not sure how long it'll take me to get used to this new side of her, but I hope it takes a while because I'm enjoying it far too much.

"Will you braid my hair like yours?" she asks.

Braid her hair? She's never asked me to braid her hair.

"Of course I will," Quinn says, guiding her toward her room. "Come on. I can braid while you read, and then we'll switch. Sound good?"

Flora nods and starts going on and on about the book they're reading, but that's not what's drawn my attention. It's the look Quinn is giving me over her shoulder—full of questions and longing and worry.

That last one isn't necessary. I'm not going to fire her over what happened. I was as much to blame for it as she was. We made a mistake. We slipped. It won't happen again.

It can't.

I grab another wipe from under the sink to distract myself and run it over the counter again, then make my way to the dining table to clean up the scraps of whatever's been left behind and wipe that down, too. I straighten things in ways I've never straightened them before, and when everything is back in the same place my housekeeper left it, I flip off the lights and pad down the hall, unable to stay away any longer.

Flora's light is out, but the rotating nightlight I bought her is casting just enough glow around the room so I can see them tucked into her bed together. Flora's eyes are heavy and she's barely able to keep them open as she rests her head on Quinn's shoulder. There's a book propped up on her stomach, and she's reading so softly I can barely make out the words.

Then suddenly, Quinn lets out a loud "Rawr!" that causes Flora and me to jump.

Both girls giggle, and Quinn closes the book.

"All right. That's enough for tonight. Some of us have school early tomorrow." She runs her hand over Flora's head, smiling down at her. "Good night, little flower."

Flora sighs. "Good night, Just Quinn."

Quinn rises from the bed, and I scramble away, tucking myself into my bedroom just as she closes Flora's door with a soft snick . I watch through the crack in mine as she leans against the wood, exhaling heavily like she's exhausted from the day, and I wouldn't be surprised if she was between moving and everything else.

But there's something else to the sigh, like she's relieved almost. I move to ask her if everything's okay, but she beats me to it.

"You did it, Quinn," she says to herself. "You survived day one, and you didn't die, you didn't mess up, and you're not on the verge of being homeless, so you did it. Now, don't fuck this up just because he slipped up and kissed you earlier and you want him to do it again. Got it?"

She nods, answering herself like a completely crazy person. But that's not the part that gets me. It's what she said.

She wants me to kiss her again.

And fuck if I don't want to too.