Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Lola

“When you suggested taking me out tonight, I thought you were joking when you said there wouldn’t be any alcohol involved.” I pull at the skin around my nails, nervous about sleeping under the same roof as Jordan Miller.

He’s a friend, Lola, a work colleague. Stop freaking out.

A friend who got an erection watching you smash a vase earlier.

Okay, I’m freaking out.

I feel hotter than a volcano, and yank my wooly hat off my head then flap it in front of my face, and use it to cool me down.

“You alright? Too hot?” Jordy turns the heating down a couple of degrees, and I can’t help but notice how sexy and strong his hands look and wonder what they would feel like pinching my nipples.

“I’m fine,” I squeak, sounding anything but.

“If you’re nervous about staying with me, Lola, don’t be. I have a guest room. Three actually.”

“Okay. And tequila? Please tell me you have alcohol.” I might need something to take the edge off.

“I do, but you don’t need it.”

I sigh, my shoulders dropping an inch. “You’re right, I don’t.”

“Relax, Lola. You’re my friend. I’m helping you out. That’s what friends do for each other.”

“Okay, okay,” I say again, sounding like a scratched record repeating the same word.

“As your wingman, maybe I should have taken you to a strip club tonight.”

His words are so unexpected that I let out an involuntary giggle. “Thank God you didn’t.” I scrunch my nose up. “That’s not really my thing.”

“I’m joking. It’s not mine either. I went once, a long time ago, when I was nineteen. Never again,” he confesses.

“In the movies, the stripper’s boobs always look great.” What I wouldn’t give to have larger boobs. I look down at mine, which look bigger under my winter coat than they are. “And long legs.” I wasn’t blessed with those either. “Legs for days,” I mutter. “Nicole, the girl Graham cheated on me with, had both,” I add, wishing I hadn’t. I sound pathetic and I've never been insecure about my body or my looks until today. I always thought I was enough for him, exactly his type. That’s what he told me in the beginning, and now I come to think about it, he hasn’t been that complimentary toward me for months. About ten months, I think.

“Okay, enough of that, Ms. My Ex Knocked My Confidence and Now I Feel Shit About Myself. Trust me, you are hot.”

I snap my focus in his direction. “You’re just saying that,” I say, knowing Jordy’s been on a mission to make me feel better. Which I did until I planted fresh new thoughts of self-loathing.

“I’m not.” He shakes his head as he stops at a set of traffic lights, then says, “You’re blonde, bubbly, and funny.”

“That’s not the same as saying I have a great rack and a fantastic set of pins now, is it?” I say, my voice laced with humor, as I roll my eyes at the same time.

“What the fuck, Lola?” He snorts as if he’s trying to hold back a laugh. “I can’t tell you those things. You work for the Eagles.”

“We’re off the clock. You can tell me what you think.” I’m secretly hoping he does find me attractive because my ego needs it after everything that’s happened today. “Like you said, we’re friends. And friends compliment each other.”

Yes, I’m feeling that shallow tonight. I’m fishing for compliments from someone I suddenly find myself very attracted to.

I continue my argument. “I tell my best friend, Piper, how pretty she is all the time, and I can honestly say she has the best rack I've ever seen. Perky and just so…” I make bowl shapes with my hands. “Big.” I gasp when it hits me. “I've just realized how jealous I am of them.”

Jordy chuckles again. “Have you spoken to Piper about your breakup with Graham?”

“Not yet.” I screw my face up. “She hated him.” She’s such a good judge of character and I’m dreading telling her. That’s a job for tomorrow. “I should have listened to her when she said he wasn’t right for me.”

“That’s because you’re strong-minded, Lola.”

“Pig-headed, more like.”

“But you’re also positive, kind, and generous.”

“Are great boobs on that list?” I’m pushing my luck now.

He gives me a sideways glance, his lips twitching slightly. “Might be. Annoying is definitely at the top of it.”

“Shut up.” I pretend to be offended, folding my arms in a fake huff.

He taps his fingertips on the steering wheel in time with the music. “I think there is something wrong with the lights,” he says, looking out of the windscreen.

He’s right, they are taking forever to change.

But as we wait he says the most unexpected thing. “I think you’re special, Lola. I never feel bad when I’m around you. You make the sun feel like it’s shining, even on the gloomiest of days.”

With that one compliment, he’s made me feel all happy and glowy inside.

“You make the smallest of things exciting,” he adds. “I seek you out at work whenever I can for some unexplainable reason, and lately, you do something fucking crazy to my heart rate. When you smile, your dimples only make you even more beautiful. I’ve always wanted to believe that you were flirting with me when you couldn’t have been because you were engaged. I know how loyal you were to Graham and how excited you were about the wedding. While I would never act on my feelings, it didn’t stop me from just wanting to be around you. Talking to you, even for five minutes.”

I can’t believe his confession, and I love his confidence, which is sending a thrill through my entire body.

My throat goes dry as he keeps on telling me his innermost thoughts. “Nothing fazes you. I know you’ll bounce back from Graham cheating on you, and you’ll do it with grace and your head held high. Something not many people could do. But you will.” Licking his lips, he then adds, “You see, Lola, you’re so much more than just a great set of pins and a nice rack.”

My voice is small, unable to sound anything like me, because it’s surreal and also amazing that he feels like this about me. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Your ass is fucking nice too.” His mouth curves into a wicked smile, while mine falls open like a fish out of water.

We both jump when a loud horn honks from behind, alerting us to the lights changing to green.

“Shit.” Jordy holds his hand up in apology to the car behind us and drives off.

“Thank you,” I say when the silence becomes too much. “For your lovely words.”

“I meant them.”

I fiddle with my fingers in my lap and embed every word into my memory bank as Jordy drives into an underground garage.

I let out a “ wow” at the skyscraper we drive beneath.

“My dad built it. He’s a property developer.”

“I know who your parents are, Jordy.” His mother is a top-notch divorce lawyer, while his father owns acres of land in and around Edmonton and is the President of the Chamber of Commerce. I know this because I have a few businesses of my own and have considered becoming a member like my father was.

The metal gates slide open.

“Which spot is yours?” I ask, looking around as we enter.

“None of them,” Jordy replies, maneuvering his large truck around the tight corner. On the far side of the parking lot, a shutter door begins rolling up, revealing an already illuminated space I assume is Jordy’s. “I have my own private garage.”

“A garage within a garage? Fancy.” Jordy drives inside and the shutters roll down again behind us, sealing us in.

Looking around, I admire how tidy everything is. “You have a lot of car polishes.” Multicolored bottles line the shelving units like soldiers standing to attention.

“I like looking after my truck. And bike.” He nods in the direction of his motorcycle that I’ve only ever seen him on once.

He looked hotter than hell the day he came to the arena in his black leathers.

“Holy shit. Is that a…” I open my door quickly and jump out to get a closer look.

“Ferrari,” Jordy confirms as my jaw falls through the concrete floor.

I step toward the beautiful machine. “It’s so shiny.” I want to run my finger along the sunshine yellow metal but resist from fear of spoiling his hard work. He must spend hours waxing it.

“I’ll take you for a spin in it one day if you want.” His voice travels over my shoulder. “I only take it out on sunny days.” His lips, now level with my ear, make a joyful shiver of goosebumps rise across my skin.

“Okay.” My voice cracks from being this close again.

What the hell is happening to me tonight?

I’m heartbroken. Homeless and shouldn’t feel anything toward another man.

It’s all wrong.

If I even so much as touch Jordy, there would be consequences, and the last thing I want is a scandal at work or to disrupt his hockey career. His knee injury caused him months off the ice last season. I don’t want to be the one that is responsible for him missing any more.

What Jordy, the team, or staff don’t know is that I’m under Marcus Edwards’s protection. He owns the Edmonton Eagles, he knows who I am, and I won’t get fired, but as an assistant, I can’t be seen having a relationship with a player.

The strict rule they have in place applies to everyone and, as far as everyone is concerned, I am still a member of staff, so I have to look like I’m playing by the rules.

For now.

Who knows what happens after I tell Wade who I am? Until then I’m off limits.

As are the players to me.

Which is a shame.

Clearly, being cheated on has made me lose my goddamn mind tonight.

My body is crazy if it thinks anything can happen between us.

But it wants it.

Craves it almost.

Turning my head in his direction, our noses almost touch. His hot breath dusts my skin as if begging me to take what I want, and I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to lean in and kiss his lips.

His hooded eyes drop to my mouth and back up again. “Would you like to go for a ride?”

Is he referring to him or the car?

“Yes,” I reply.

The idea of him doing illicit things to me inside his sports car appears like a mental movie playing out in my mind; me straddling him as he fucks himself into me in the compact space seems like one of the best ideas I’ve had in a while.

Jordy stops my dirty thoughts. “One day I will take you out on my bike too. I know you’ll enjoy it. Some women can orgasm from sitting on a motorcycle.”

Lost for words, I stay quiet.

His next question comes deep from within his chest. It’s low and dangerous as if he’s growling. “Do you like the sound of that, Lola?”

I don’t answer. Can’t.

“The way your pupils dilated tells me you do.” His lips pull up to the side and I know he’s enjoying making me squirm. He moves his mouth to the shell of my ear. “Tell me, Lola, when was the last time a real man made you come?”

I draw in a startled breath. A pulsating throb between my thighs burns deep in my core. “A while,” I reply.

His lips brush against my earlobe, then move to my neck, and I can’t stop the involuntary action of tilting it to the side to give him better access.

“A while?” he asks for clarification.

“Months.”

“Months?”

“Ten.” Why the hell am I telling him?

“Your beautiful body deserves to be worshiped, baby.”

When his tongue licks the length of my neck, it’s so unexpected, causing a rush of arousal to soak my panties.

“I bet your pussy tastes delicious, Lola.” The heat of his large body disappears, leaving me breathless. “It’s a shame I’ll never get to try it.” His words are like a bucket of ice over the desire that was rising through my body. “This way,” he snaps, instructing me to move, almost sounding angry.

I recoil trying to figure out what I did then realize he’s not angry, he’s disappointed. I know this because I feel the same way, which I shouldn’t feel, but do.

“Hey, I’m annoyed that nothing can happen between us too.” My voice is low and flat.

“Are you?” He swipes his hand through the air. “In fact, don’t answer that. I’m sorry, Lola, I shouldn’t have said those things or touched you.” For the first time all night, he avoids eye contact with me.

Gingerly, I follow him to what I assume is his private elevator. “It’s okay.”

“Is your heart is doing funny shit like mine?” staring ahead, Jordy asks as the doors slide open.

“Yeah.”

“Good to know.”

Stepping into the elevator, I shake my head, trying to get a grip of my senses. I shouldn’t be staying here tonight.

Jordy taps a keycard against a panel on the wall, instructing the doors to close.

I stare at the spot above the door to discover there’s no digital display to count the floors.

“Penthouse,” Jordy says.

“You live in the penthouse?”

“Best view of the city.”

I’m not at my best tonight, not fully functioning, and I swear I’m making the worst judgment call.

This is a stupid idea.