Page 11 of Coach Sully
“Sleepy.”
I nod and laugh. “Same.” I groan, hoisting myself up and stepping into the bathroom to wash up and prepare a warm washcloth. Her body is spent and relaxed when I return.Perfect.I drop a knee on the mattress and spread her knees apart, then take a mental picture before gently bringing the damp cloth across her body and cleaning up the mess I made.
We’ve got an emotional, physical, sexual connection that has me questioning if she’s even real. I pray this isn’t a dream. If it is, fuck it, let me sleep forever.
When I’m done, I head back to the bathroom and toss the washcloth in the sink. I give her a couple painkillers and a full glass of water. “Drink this.”
She takes a small sip, downs the acetaminophen, and holds the glass out to me.
I push it back toward her chest. “All of it.” Goose bumps rise on her arms, so I find one of my Lakes shirts for her to wear. She puts it on, and I fail miserably at hiding my smile. It’s practically down to her knees.
“I’ll give it back tomorrow,” she says, yawning.
“Keep it, it gives me another excuse to get you back here.”
“For real? Thought that was just a line because you were in the moment.”
I laugh. “Hell no. I meant it then, I mean it now.” She’s already ruined me; I’ll probably hang on her every word from now until forever.
“Okay… Um, do you want to exchange numbers?”
“Yes.” I dig my phone from my pants on the floor and unlock it, noticing a missed call.
Whit Moreau. Damn, I haven’t heard from that guy in forever. He and I played in the minors before I was drafted by the Lakes. I heard he retired about five years ago, but he’s been keeping busy with the NHL as a consultant. The call must have come through when I was driving to meet her. I close out of my calls and focus on the task at hand.
I open a new contact for Kendra. “I realize I don’t even know your last name,” I say, slightly embarrassed.
“Ames.”
“Kendra Ames,” I say, typing it in. I save her number and send her a text, pleased when I hear the notification ding from in the kitchen.
“What time is it?” she asks.
“Almost one.”
“Shit. I have to be up early.” She grimaces. “Can you get me to my car by six?”
After the sex we just had, I’d walk over hot coals for her. Six a.m. won’t be a problem. “I’ll set an alarm.”
Even though we were exhausted, he woke up early and brought me to my car. However, based on how late we stayed up, I’m guessing he went back home to crash, but I’m on my second cup of coffee. It wasn’t easy leaving his place this morning. I like his house; the design is well thought out. It’s big but not obnoxiously so. It’s practical. VerySully. The setting suits him, with lots of trees and landscaping out back. He probably mows his own lawn. Great, now I’m picturing him mowing shirtless and dripping in sweat.
“Get it together, Kendra. Game face,” I tell myself. My body might be at work, but my mind is still in bed with him. Sully and I had chemistry from the start. I’d never sleep with anyone who I wasn’t one-hundred-percent sure isn’t a conflict of interest. Sully isn’t doing the show, so why shouldn’t I pursue him? I shove off my overactive mind and fish through my bag for my beeping phone. When I feel it in my grasp, I pull it up and smileat the text from Sully, more memories of our night together replaying in my mind.
Sully
Good morning. Again.
It’s almost noon.
Sully
Hard to get out of bed when my sheets still smell like you.
What a bum. I’ve already been working for six hours.
Sully
I’m retired, sweetheart. I can do whatever I want. And I want you to get some lunch. Nothing that comes in a wrapper.