20. Wyatt

20

WYATT

I could still taste Josie on my lips as I let myself into my apartment, the taste of beer and coconut from her Chapstick clouding my senses. The smell of her perfume clung my clothes, the peachy-citrus scent quickly becoming my new favorite smell.

It took all my inner strength to not go back downstairs and knock on her door, just to kiss her again. Kissing her felt like breathing for the first time, and I'd felt an almost physical ache pulling away from her. It was like I'd never known I was drowning until she breathed life back into me.

I should feel exhausted, but all I could think about was Josie. The truth is, she was all I'd thought about since we met. Well, that and hockey. It was hard to believe only a week had passed since we found ourselves trapped in the elevator. Now that I'd met her, it blew my mind that we'd lived in the same building for a year, that I could have met her sooner.

Seeing her at the game, cheering me on, was indescribable. Seeing her in my jersey. Sure, my family stood in the stands at most of my games, cheering me on and wearing my number as they watched me play. But having Josie there felt different. She wasn't obligated to come and support me, yet she did.

I hated to admit it, but for the first time in my life, I wasn't one hundred percent focused on the game. I switched spots on the bench with one of the guys during the game so I could lean to the side and see her. More than once Trevor or Bryton hit my shoulder to get my attention.

Knowing she sat in the stands, watching, lit a fire within me that I hadn't felt in a long time. For the first time this season, I hadn't worried about my knee, losing another game or worrying about trying to maintain my reputation. Instead, I skated out onto the ice and put everything on the line.

I played like I did before my injury, and it felt amazing. Then there was breaking our losing streak. For a while there, I feared I'd forgotten what winning felt like. To feel that rush of adrenaline, that explosive feeling when you shoot the winning goal, the sound of fans cheering your name.

Tonight reinforced the love I have for what I do.

I have Josie to thank for that.

Tossing my keys on the counter, I made my way towards my room. Even though I took a shower after the game I needed to take another one to loosen up my muscles before bed. I knew I'd probably regret not taking an ice bath right after the game, but I was too eager to see Josie.

On the way to my ensuite, I slid my shoes off and put them in my closet. It was a habit after years of my mom nagging at me to put my shoes away and keep my room clean and tidy. As an adult I'd learned my mom was right about keeping a clean house—not that I'd admit that to her. When I was younger, it used to take me ages to find my hockey pucks and skates because my room was a mess. With my own place I made sure everything had its place.

With the shower started, I tugged my shirt up and over my head. My pants, boxers and socks followed before I stepped under the warm water.

I ducked my head under the waterfall shower head, letting it run down my face for a moment. There was no getting Josie off my mind. How her lips felt. Tasted. Her reaction when I bit her lip. I could still hear the little whimper she made.

My cock twitched under the stream of water at the recollection, and I found myself wondering how soft and receptive she would be if I did more than kiss her. I thought about Josie beneath me, our naked bodies pressed against each other, and I grew harder with each passing second. I couldn't stand it any longer as I reached down and gripped my cock in my hand.

I'd had half a hard-on ever since Josie bent over the damn pool table at the bar. Her perfect ass encased in those tight jeans. At first, I tried not to stare, to be a gentleman and not objectify her. Shit, I only had so much self-control. How could I not stare at her ass when it was right in front of me?

My throaty groan echoed off the tiles as I slowly stroked my cock, pausing briefly to reach for a little soap. I was no longer in control of my thoughts, or anything else for that matter as I imagined Josie on her knees before me, staring down into her gorgeous brown eyes that silently begged to have my cock deep in her throat. I wanted to bend her over, to watch her grip her ass open as I pounded away at her from behind, my thumb pushing into her ass while she begged me to fuck it next.

My hand stroked faster, wrist twisting at the base before sliding back up. Water hit my back as I leaned my other hand against the shower tile. My abs tightened as my hips involuntarily fucked my hand. As my groans grew louder, I tightened my grip, wishing it was Josie instead. Her hand. Her mouth. Her pussy. The images froze in my mind as I felt nearing the edge.

All it took was a few more thrusts of my hips, and I ejaculated across the shower tiles before me. Every muscle in my body tensed, my eyes squeezed shut as I gave my cock a final jerk.

Resting my forehead against the tiles, my cock twitched in my hand as I tried to catch my breath. It took a minute for my legs to stop shaking.

I can't remember the last time I came that hard on my own.

Guilt worked its way through me as I straightened up, letting the water wash away the evidence.

I shouldn't have done that while picturing Josie. I tried to be a gentleman earlier and here I am jerking off to the thought of her .

One thing I did know was that I hadn't imagined the attraction and lust in Josie's eyes as we'd stood outside her apartment. It wasn't just my ego speaking, but I was certain that if we'd kept kissing, she would have dragged me into her apartment. Not that I would have argued. I just wished she was actually in the shower with me.

I quickly rinsed off and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel to dry off. At least jerking off eased some of the pent-up post-game energy. Drying off, I walked naked back to my room and pulled on a pair of boxers. I could hear my phone buzzing away on my bed, reminding me I'd switched it to silent before we went to the bar. Like hell I'd waste time on my phone when Josie was right in front of me.

I wasn't surprised to see multiple texts from my brothers congratulating me on a win. Of course, they wouldn't be messages from Landon and Mateo without their special form of sarcasm thrown into it. There was also an apologetic message from mom, disappointed to miss the game. I would have loved for her to be there, to see me make the winning goal, but it wasn't often she missed a game. She almost always came to a game.

I scrolled through the group chat I had with the team, rolling my eyes at some of the shit they'd sent over the course of the evening. Mostly wanting to know who wanted to go out and get plastered, with the usual follow-ups about fucking some hockey bunny. There were a few asking where Trevor, Bryton and I were at. Typically, after a win we'd venture out as a team, but that was the last thing I'd wanted to do tonight. Clicking out of the group message my eyes immediately went to Josie's earlier texts. I stared at the last message she'd sent me.

Josie: Good luck tonight! You're going to kick ass!

My thumb hovered over the call button. All I wanted was to hear her voice, even though it was less than an hour since we'd said goodnight. Before I could stop myself, I hit the call button and tapped to put it on speaker.

I didn't know why, but I felt nervous.

Since when does Wyatt Boone get nervous about a girl?

I think the last time was back in high school when I asked a girl to prom.

As the phone rang, I realized there was a good chance she was already in bed, and I silently cursed myself for calling her so late. Just as I was about to hang up, she answered.

"Hi." Her voice was soft, almost timid.

"Hi," I replied lamely. Clearing my throat, I shifted on the edge of my bed. "I hope I didn't wake you."

"All good, I was just changing into my pajamas."

Of course my perverted-ass mind started picturing her in some form of skimpy PJ's that showcased her long, toned legs. I bit my tongue so that I wouldn't ask her out aloud.

That would be a sure-fire way to get her to hang up on me.

I could hear her shuffling like she was getting into bed. Now that I had her on the phone, I wasn't sure what to say. It was like my brain shut down, incapable of making simple conversation.

"You know, it's been a week since we got stuck in the elevator," I said after a moment.

"Oh, that's right. This time last week we were arguing over the best cereal."

"Still can't believe you think Cinnamon Toast Crunch is the best." I shook my head although she couldn't see me.

"Um, that's because it is . At least we can both agree that Frosted Mini Wheats are the worst."

"Who even eats those?" I agreed, moving back onto my bed. "It's like eating cardboard.

At the sound of her laughing, I smiled.

There. That's what I needed to hear.

I liked her laugh. A lot. Earlier when she'd confessed why she covered her mouth when she laughed, I'd wanted nothing more than to track her ex down and beat the shit out of him.

What man…no, what boy says something like that to a woman? Especially one like Josie.

I meant every word I'd said to her in the car. I don't want her to hide her laugh or anything about herself from me. I wanted to see and learn everything there was to know about her—a fact that was scary as fuck.

"So, lil rebel. Are we going to talk about that drunk story you told us at the bar?" I questioned. Josie groaned and I could practically see her covering her face with her free hand.

"Let's not."

"No, let's," I grinned to myself. "Breaking and entering…that's a serious crime, Ms. Scott."

"Technically it wasn't breaking and entering if the building wasn't locked properly."

"Wonder what they'd do if they got an anonymous call detailing who did it?" I teased. "Is there a reward?"

"You wouldn't dare!" she gasped dramatically, and I had to clamp my hand over my mouth to hold back the laughter.

"Who's to say it would come from me? There were others there tonight that heard it," I pointed out.

"Trevor wouldn't do that to me."

I had a feeling letting Trevor and Josie become friends was going to bite me in the ass. I saw the smug look on his face earlier when we came out of the locker room, and he put his arm around her. He knew it would piss me off, which of course it did. I also knew he was going to tease me non-stop about it next time I saw him.

"Trevor can't save you now."

"You have no evidence Mr. Boone."

"We'll see lil rebel" I teased, smiling as she laughed on the other side of the phone. Her nickname was starting to fit her more and more.

My phone buzzed in my hand, drawing my attention to the ESPN notification. I couldn't help but click on it.

Toronto Knights break their losing streak by winning against the New York Huskies 3-2. Captain Wyatt Boone has returned to form as he dominated the ice. The Big Three—Boone, Hall and Young were the lead scores in tonight's game.

I ignored the dig about our previous losses and continued reading the article as it listed stats and different plays throughout the game. I typically try not to read articles about the game. Especially if we'd lost. I'd learned the hard way that all it did was tear you down further.

"Wyatt?"

I was so caught up in reading the article, that I'd forgotten Josie was on the other line.

Smooth move, dickhead.

"Sorry, I was reading an article on ESPN about the game."

"Was it good or bad?"

"Not too bad. Slight dig at me but I'm used to it." You can't play a sport at a professional level and not be able to take criticism. Especially from the press.

"Random question," Josie started. "Is it hard having to sit at an after-game interview after a loss?"

"Yeah, it is. Reporters rub your nose in your shitty performance. Trust me, no one wants to sit there and have your mistakes repeatedly shoved back in your face—and then have to read about it online afterwards," I sighed. "But it's the price you pay to do something you love. The sting never goes away, you just learn to move on from it."

"Well, I thought you were amazing tonight. That last slap shot was insane. The way you, Trevor and Bryton moved down the ice," Josie all but gushed.

I leaned back against my pillows listening to her recount moments of the game. I've never had a girl know anything about hockey. Puck bunnies pretend to know so they can sleep with players, which doesn't count. The one serious girlfriend I had in high school only went to a few games and spent most of the time on her phone.

So, listening to Josie know what she was talking about was…I didn't even have the words for it. I could listen to her talk about hockey all day long. Or just talk in general, if I was to be honest.

"So aside from hockey, what else do you like to do?" I asked, fishing for some ideas for our date tomorrow. I hadn't planned on asking her out the way I did.

"Hmm, that's a loaded question." She shuffled once more. I pictured her getting comfortable on her bed, phone lying next to her like mine was.

"I love photography, which is a given. There's this amazing art display at Gallery 460 downtown. It's supposed to be amazing," Josie said, her passion evident in her voice. I wished I was talking to her in person so I could witness the way she lit up when she talked about something she loved.

As she continued telling me about the gallery, an idea came to mind. It could be a long shot, but if I pulled it off…with my phone still on speaker, I scrolled through my contacts. When I found the one, I was looking for, I quickly typed out a message and hit send. I knew it was late, but I needed to have everything in place before I picked Josie up for our date tomorrow.