Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

Jordy

Having been at Lola’s place to pick up her things, I’m driving her to Wade’s house to get her settled in.

In record time, Lola had her clothes, photos, and all of her personal belongings stacked safely inside my truck. She’s nothing but efficient.

And strong.

I’m so proud of her for not breaking down when we entered the apartment filled with memories of her broken relationship.

She was more angry than upset as she dashed around the place, muttering words of annoyance under her breath toward Graham. I’m relieved that she has her belongings and that she’ll be inside a gated estate.

Drumming my fingertips on my thigh in time to the song that’s playing in my truck. The same song that played while Lola screwed my dick raw and I now have imprinted into my brain forever.

Last night was fucking great.

Best night I’ve had in a long time. Maybe ever.

Having only ever slept with Sienna, I thought it would feel weird, but it didn’t.

I’m almost ashamed to admit it, but it was better than it ever felt with Sienna.

She always seemed distracted and stuck in her own head. With Lola, she let herself go, trusted me.

I steal a glance at her side profile.

Something is happening between us.

Shut up. It was just one night.

One night of pure fucking magic.

Best one night stand I’ve ever had.

The only one I’ve ever had.

“What a night, huh?” Lola asks as if reading my mind.

“It was a great night, Lola,” I tell her honestly, fucking hating that in less than twenty minutes our time together ends.

While last night was a dream come true for me, this morning was even better.

Lola made me breakfast, which, come to think of it, I don’t think Sienna ever did.

She knew what to make me to prepare my body for game day as she does the same for Wade. It felt nice to be taken care of.

To thank her, I ate her out on the kitchen island before we left. I didn’t tell her, just in case I offended her, but she tasted better than the breakfast she made me.

It’s a shame I won’t get to taste her again, because my tongue and my dick are already addicted.

“Are you coming to the game tonight?” I ask hopefully.

“I love watching Wade play, so of course I’m coming. I have lots to do before the game tonight though.”

I wish she was coming to the game to see me.

Wade has two women fawning over him now. What a lucky guy.

It doesn’t matter that Lola said she doesn’t find Wade attractive, I’m still jealous and after last night, I hate it even more that she’s moving in with him.

“If you keep busy, it will keep your mind busy too.” I know it helped me.

“I suppose so. I need to cancel the wedding.” Lola takes a sip of the takeout coffee I grabbed for her on the way back from her old apartment. “Maybe I’ll do that tomorrow.”

“One step at a time, Lola.”

Putting on a high, posh accent as if she’s having a conversation with someone she creates a fake phone with her fingers and holds it to her ear. “Oh, I’m sorry your fiancé fucked you over, but I’m afraid we’re going to fuck you over twice and keep every cent of your deposit.” She takes another sip of her flat white. “Just peachy.”

I let her have her moment and leave her to her thoughts as I drift off into mine.

I can’t deny how disappointed I am that Lola and I are just a rebound thing because any other time, I’m certain we could be something special. It’s an unshakeable feeling I got last night and it hasn’t shifted.

But that’s not how this ends for us.

Lola breaks the silence and reels off a list of things she needs to do today. “Back to Wade’s, unpack my things, and finish off what I started yesterday in his closet. I need to grab something to eat, shower, then head to the arena.”

“I think I need a Lola in my life.” Deep down, I know I’m not referring to having her as my assistant.

“You had me last night.” She lets out a soft, flirty laugh.

“Someone’s spicier today,” I say, focusing on the road, but lift my hand to poke her ribs, making her giggle some more as she swats me away.

I make a mental note to consider hiring a personal assistant.

As soon as the season starts, I never seem to have a minute to myself and there hasn’t been a lot of free time for me to put paintbrush to canvas or pencil to sketchbook.

Although, it’s not from want of trying. It’s just, well, for some unfathomable reason, I haven’t drawn or painted anything since Sienna left.

Couldn’t.

Almost at Wade’s, I steer my truck around the corner and along the avenue, annoyed that the lights don’t change to red so I can spend more time with Lola.

Stealing another look, a small tug pulls at my heart. After I woke up with her body glued to mine, my fingers suddenly itched to pick up a palette knife and throw paint onto a stretched canvas; my brain electrified with ideas.

Buzzing with creativity, a whole new collection of abstract winter cityscapes appeared in my mind in golds and greens with hints of yellows and blues. I’ve had creative visions before but nothing as clear or as vivid as the ones I had this morning.

It’s almost as if Lola unlocked something within me that’s been hiding away for way too long.

“Wade doesn’t get much downtime. Do you?” she asks out of the blue, unaware of the effect she’s had on my creativity.

“It’s rammed until off season,” I admit. “The only reason I had time to spare last night was because my physio appointment was canceled. My therapist was sick.” A phantom pain shoots through my knee. “I’ll suffer the consequences of that after tonight’s game against the Ducks.” The last game we played with them, we lost, it was a complete washout.

“Don’t let them kick your ass this time.” She places her hand on her heart. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that when I can’t even skate.”

“You can’t skate?” I exclaim, completely shocked by this revelation. Having skated from the age of four, my brain can’t comprehend how she’s never had lessons. My skates are like an extension of me. I can’t do what I’m great at without them.

“I fell on the ice and broke my wrist when I was younger and never tried it again.” She shudders as if the memory of her breaking a bone feels like it’s happening again. “The thought of sliding around the ice on two razor blades scares me.”

The idea of not being able to skate scares me more. It’s unimaginable.

“You should face your fear. It’s the only way you’ll get over it.” I consider what I’m going to say next. “I could teach you.”

Scrunching her nose, I already know her answer.

“You’d rather build a snowman than let me teach you. Am I right?”

“It’s like you’re inside my head, Jordy Miller.”

For the umpteenth time today, her phone rings and she lets out a long, exasperated sigh. Shifting in her seat, she reaches down and pulls her phone out of her purse.

“Is that him again?” I ask, fucking annoyed at her bastard ex for calling her from multiple different numbers which began over an hour ago.

“It’s another different number.” Sounding shocked, her voice hitches up a couple of octaves. “How many burner phones did he buy? What an asshole.”

After the fifth call from an unknown number, I googled how much a burner phone was and discovered they’re as cheap as ten dollars which can only mean Graham is determined to speak to Lola, and spending money Lola said he didn’t have.

His harassing behavior irks me, and if it continues, I’ve told Lola to report it to the police, or even better, file a restraining order against him before I pay him a visit myself and teach him a lesson in remorse with my fists.

I can’t do that because I’d lose my position on the team, but the satisfaction I would get while doing it would more than make up for it. I’m kidding myself. It wouldn’t and would make my life hell. Graham isn’t worth it.

Lola declines the call, killing the ring, and then taps her screen a few times, which I assume is her blocking yet another number, before she lets out a worried sigh. “I wish he’d leave me alone. I need space.” Throwing her phone back into her purse, she adjusts the air conditioning, turning it down which means she must be too hot again.

Tapping her foot as if she’s nervous, she asks, “Is it wrong of me to not feel bad for removing my name from the rental agreement on the apartment and leaving Graham to make the payments?”

“It’s not wrong of you, Lola.” It’s fucking karma. The dickhead doesn’t deserve an explanation or another dollar from her.

“I feel bad for him. Financially, he’s not in a great place,” she admits.

“You’re too nice.” I continue driving along the avenue, going slower than usual, drawing out our time together. “Graham is a grown-ass man. He needs to learn to stand on his own two feet.”

“He does.” She stalls as if gathering her thoughts then swings back to being annoyed with him. “Fuck him to hell.”

“If you so much as think about fucking him, you come find me. It seems like I haven’t fully fucked him out of your system.”

She chuckles. “Maybe I need another night.”

“Lola,” I warn, not meaning it because there is nothing more I want than to spend another night with her.

As if justifying our relationship status, she sounds flustered when she says, “Okay, so, we’re just friends and it’s all cool between us. Even though we had sex—which was great, just thought I’d let you know that—it doesn’t feel awkward, does it? It’s not, is it? It doesn’t make me feel weird. It makes me feel closer to you,” she rambles before blowing out a breath and chewing on her thumbnail.

“Chill, baby.” I reach over and give her thigh a squeeze when I would much prefer to be stuffing her mouth full of my cock again to stop her fretting. “I loved every minute of last night and every time I jerk off, I have a memory bank full of all the ways you sucked my cock and screamed my name when I licked your pretty clit.”

She heaves in a breath, reverting to the shy Lola I now know only exists outside of the bedroom. “You can’t say things like that, Jordan.”

I laugh when she uses my full name because we are way past formalities. “Why can’t I say that? Does it make you wet, baby?” Taking my time, I run my hand up her inner thigh and push my fingers between her legs, pressing the seam of her jeans against her clit because I know it will get her all hot and horny and wanting me more than she would care to admit.

She looks around outside. “Someone will see.”

“No, they won’t.”

“You’re right they won’t.”

I take my shot because I’m a fucking devil when it comes to her. “Put your hand inside your jeans and make yourself come, Lola.”