Chapter 5

Five

Maeve

I groan as I roll over in my big comfy bed, wanting nothing more than to stay here all day, with the guy in the room next door. But that's not going to happen and we both have a flight to catch in a few short hours.

As pleasure continues to race through my body, swirling around parts that haven't been touched in far too long, I roll to the side and take a moment to reminisce about last night. I can't believe I ended up with the wrong Tanner in my room. Although when it comes down to it, it was the right Tanner—in all the right ways.

I roll again, this time toward the patio doors, and take in the sliver of light shining in through my curtains. A laugh bubbles in my throat. I still can't believe Tanner jumped from his patio to mine. He could have broken his damn neck. At least the hall was empty when he finally went back to his room long after midnight. So much for my plans of getting a good night's sleep. The truth is, I was up far too late and it's going to be a hard, tiring day getting back to Boston. But on the bright side, I have many delicious thoughts to keep my brain occupied and my cold blue feet warm.

I toss the covers off, and my phone lights up on my nightstand. A little bubble of excitement wells up inside me as I reach for it. Although I shouldn't expect it to be Tanner. Last night was nothing more than a ‘one and done'. We both know we can't have any more, yet there's a part of me that wished we'd gone all the way. At least then I'd have the memory of him inside my body, and could draw on that during the long cold nights about to hit us back in Boston. My heart jumps when I see that it is a message from Tanner. God, I shouldn't be this excited. I quickly read the message.

Tanner: Morning, Sweetness. Just checking to see how you're doing.

I grin, loving how he calls me sweetness, and as my smile widens it occurs to me that it was probably for the best that we didn't muss up my bedsheets. I'm not a girl who falls easily. Heck, I haven't had a man in my life in years, and don't plan to change that anytime soon, but there's just something about Tanner, something warm and kind and addictive. I read his message again, and that's when my thoughts go darker.

Is he worried that in the light of day, I could be harboring regret…that I've pulled a Maeve and am now having second thoughts about what we've done? I swallow. Will things be awkward between us from here on out? God, that's the last thing I want. But how are we supposed to act around one another. Damn, this is out of my wheelhouse.

Maybe I should message Kate and ask for her advice. My throat tightens as guilt grips me like a noose. Will Kate be upset with me? She specifically pointed Tanner out, and called dibs. She was probably counting on hanging out with him when she comes to Boston—and I use the term hanging out very loosely. I really don't want to hurt her, or do anything to jeopardize our friendship. Oh, damn, I really am a bad friend. I'll have to talk to her, but in the meantime, I need to act casual and normal, and text Tanner back.

Maeve: I'm tired, and don't want to get up. Did you happen to get the number of the truck that ran me over?

Tanner: I'm sorry, Sweetness, and I believe that number is mine. I kept you up too late, and well, scotch… I'm a bad influence. Are you going to remove my number from your contacts?

Maeve: Nope, and also, in case you're wondering….no regrets. (eggplant emoji)

I grin and picture him laughing on the other side of the wall. Dressed only in a T-shirt and pajama shorts, I push from my bed and walk to the patio doors. I pull the curtains back and wince as the morning sun burns my eyes. I click open the door and walk out. I peek around the partition and find Tanner dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, sitting in his chair sipping coffee as he grins at his phone. My heart jumps and the strangest sensations race through my belly. God, he is so cute.

"Morning." His head jerks up fast, and a pleased smile races across his handsome face when he spots me standing there. That's when it occurs to me, I must look a mess. After he left last night, I took a long hot shower. Then I went to bed with my hair wet. I'm about to smooth my hand over my mess of hair, the need to look perfect is an old habit that's hard to break. My hand stops when he speaks.

"Your hair. What a mess," he teases, a mischievous gleam in his eyes that rakes over my body leaving me a little needy. Is he too thinking about why I had to jump in the shower last night? God that was so hot, and funny. I have never, ever laughed during sex before.

I angle my head and fluff my hair up even more. "Just the way you like it, if I remember correctly."

"Yeah." He stands and comes toward me. "I like knowing I was the one who messed it up." He holds his coffee out and the smell of the fresh brew fills my nostrils.

"Mmm," I mutter.

"Drink."

Our fingers touch and linger, and I enjoy the little shockwaves dancing over my flesh as he lightly touches me. I palm the cup and bring it to my mouth for a drink. I sigh after I swallow. "This is delicious."

"Hazelnut vanilla."

I frown and glance back inside, remembering the breakfast blend pods I'd seen. "I don't think I have hazelnut vanilla in my room." His grin is sheepish as he shrugs. "What?" I ask, as my brain awakens with the coffee. He shakes his head, and looks away. "Tell me."

"Fine," he blurts out, sounding indignant, and I laugh at this playful side. Honestly, I was worried things were going to be awkward and here we are, our conversation as easy and intimate as it was last night. I really like this. I really like him.

Ugh, be careful, Maeve. There are far too many reasons this can't happen again.

"I bring my own from home."

"Really? You travel with coffee pods. Doesn't that set the dogs off at the airport?"

"No, and I sort of got addicted to hazelnut vanilla when I lived in Nova Scotia. I order it in by the case load now. I can hook you up. First box is free." He winks. "Won't cost you much after that." He wags his brow, like he's suggesting I could pay with a different kind of currency, and I'm pretty sure I could get behind that. "Have some more," he suggests and touches the cup, lifting it to my mouth.

"Oh, I get it. The first one is free to get me hooked, and then you become my hazelnut vanilla dealer. I'm on to you, Tanner."

"Give me that back," he mutters and pretends to take the coffee. I hold it out of his reach and take another sip.

"Knitting and hazelnut vanilla coffee." I grin loving his little quirks. "What other idiosyncrasies did you pick up in Canada?" He bites his bottom lip and I point a finger. "Ha, I knew it. You have more. Tell me."

"I don't have more," he grumps and folds his arms across his broad chest. I take a minute to admire his biceps.

I cradle the mug, enjoying the warmth in my hands, but then it reminds me of something else I cradled and enjoyed. Needing my mind on less delightful things, I ask, "Tell me what superstitions you have before a game."

"I don't have any." He looks up and whistles innocently.

"Yeah, right," I shoot back. "Come on, your secret is safe with me."

"Fine." He holds his hands out, about eight inches apart. "I have this little plush lobster?—"

"No," I blurt out.

He feigns mad as he glares at me. "You asked, do you want to hear or not?"

"Yeah, I do, sorry."

"Well, I rub it for good luck. One of the guys who grew up in a fishing village in Nova Scotia got me one. He said it always gave him good luck, so I started doing it too."

"Canadians are crazy."

He nods in agreement. "The craziest," he agrees with a shrug. "But it works. How did you know I had a superstition, anyway?"

"I've been around hockey players long enough to know. But…don't play poker, T." I poke his chest. "You have a tell." What he doesn't realize is when I ask questions he doesn't want to answer, questions that make him shy or embarrassed, the muscles along his jaw tighten and he averts his gaze. It's freaking adorable.

"I do not," he counters.

"Yeah, you do."

"What is it then?" he challenges.

"I'm not telling," I joke. "But just know, you're an easy read."

"No, I'm not." He leans over, tugs on my pajama T-shirt and pulls me to him. I instantly grow breathless as he dips his head. "I'm just easy." His lips lightly brush mine, and my entire body sizzles as need races through me. A moment later, he breaks the kiss and I stand there, my lips still poised, my eyes half closed.

"I want to know some of your secrets," he whispers.

"I'm an open book." I stand up straighter. "Everything you need to know you can read in the magazines."

"Nah," he disagrees. "That's not you." His salted caramel eyes move over my face, and it's that thorough inspection that lets me know he truly sees more than others. My heart skips a beat as I hand the mug back. He leans in. "Tell me one thing."

"I told you about my cold blue feet."

He laughs. "True."

I almost think about telling him I sent a hook-up text to the wrong guy. That could upset him though, instead, I lean close and lower my voice. "When I was twelve, Kate and I bought a ouija board when Mom told me I wasn't allowed. We kept it at Kate's house."

"Ooh, rebel."

I nod. "The church was having a basement sale?—"

He holds his hand up to stop me. "Wait. You bought a ouija board from a church basement sale?"

"Yeah, go figure, right?"

"They sold a ouija board to kids?" He pulls his phone out and does a search. "One of these?"

I glance at it, and note the age level for playing. I fold my arms and tap my chin. "When you think about it, you have to be sixteen to drive a car, but only eight to summon a demon."

He laughs hard. So hard, he falls against the cement wall and holds his stomach. "Jesus, Maeve. Tell me you didn't summon a demon at the age of twelve?"

"I'm not sure. Mom says I was pretty demonic during my teenage years, so it's possible."

He grips my T-shirt again, and I hope he's coming in for another kiss. He stops when my phone pings. I straighten. "It's Dad, wondering why I'm not down for breakfast." I back up a bit as reality gives me a hard slap to the face. Honestly, I shouldn't be messing around with Tanner. Last night was fun, and much needed, and now it's time to move past it.

He clears his throat and backs up too. "We'd better get going," he says, his voice lacking the warmth and humor from a minute ago.

"T," I say.

He turns back. "Yeah?"

"Last night was great. But you know we can't…"

"Yeah, I know."

I give him a nod and head back to my room, planning to avoid him on the trip home. I brush my hair and tie it back. Once done, I pack up my bag, and give my room a once over. I grin when my gaze lands on the half full bottle of scotch. Would I have hooked up with Tanner without it? I can't deny it gave me liquid courage, but I think there's just something about the rookie that puts me at ease, helps me forget about the past, just for a little while.

I step into the hall, and turn at movement beside me. Tanner's door clicks shut behind him, and our eyes lock. Okay, so much for avoiding him.

"Hey," he whispers like we weren't just laughing on the patios, and hadn't had amazing oral sex last night.

"Hey yourself. Sleep well?"

The conspiratorial grin he aims my way fills me with warmth. "Good, just not long enough." He leans in. "You good, Maeve?"

The warmth in his eyes curls around me like a soft blanket. "I'm good, T."

Another door opens down the hall, and I look around Tanner's big body to see Brady. I start toward the elevator.

"Wait up," Brady calls out, and hurries to catch up to Tanner. I press the down button and when the doors slide open, move to the side to make room for the guys.

"Great game yesterday, Brady," I say.

"Thanks." He glances at Tanner. "What's wrong with you? You said you were going to bed early and didn't want to party with us, but you look like shit." Tanner scrubs his face, and looks down. "Jesus, you hooked up, didn't you? Who was it?" Brady whacks Tanner's shoulder. "Was it the blonde who was eyeing you all night?"

"None of your business."

"Ooh, it was. Shit man, she was hot."

"Hey, watch it," Tanner warns. "Don't talk like that in front of Maeve."

"Right. Sorry, Maeve." He leans into Tanner. "I want the details later."

I bite back a laugh. I'm pretty sure he's not getting those details, considering the way Tanner is snarling at him. Plus, what we did last night is our secret and ours alone. We both have reasons for keeping it private. We reach the lobby, and Brady makes a move to jump off when Tanner puts his arm on his shoulder to stop him, letting me go first.

I can't bite back a grin as I exit, and Tanner follows behind. The second I step off, I find my father waiting for me, his smile dissolving as his gaze goes from me to Tanner, back to me again. Oh God, does he know what we did last night? Do I have a tell too?

Maybe you should wipe the ridiculous, sexually satisfied smile off your face, Maeve.

Ugh.