Reaching down, she picked up the boots and said, “Let’s go.”
“You are sure? Your feet will hurt.”
“Nah, it’s all good. I can see your car from here.”
“Get on my back.”
She laughed and shook her head. “Then you’d rip your suit jacket and I’d cry. That jacket fits you perfectly.”
I took my jacket off and passed it to her, then unbuttoned the sleeves of my dress shirt and rolled them up. Sheridan watched me, her chest rising and falling a little faster.
“I do want to ride you,” she said playfully. “But I had something else in mind.”
I reached into my pants pocket and took out my keys, passing them to her. “Unlock it on the way.”
“Are you sure? You have to be so tired from the game.”
“I am sure.” I turned and bent slightly. “Get on my back and we will call Taco Hut on the way to my place to order our food. Hurry, or I may eat my suit jacket before we get there. I am starving.”
“Lars Jansson, you just made a joke!” Sheridan’s smile was so perfect and genuine that warmth radiated throughout my body.
“Get on,” I encouraged.
“Okay, so all I have to do is climb on and hold on for dear life while also holding on to my bag, my coat, my boots, your jacket, and your keys.” She got on my back and gave a little squeal as I grabbed her legs. “I guess let’s go?”
So we did. Snowflakes swirled through the night sky as I sprinted through the parking lot, Sheridan laughing and holding tightly to my neck as several photographers followed, shouting questions.
I took a picture of the moment in my mind, wanting to remember the glow of Sheridan’s rosy cheeks, the warmth of her body against mine in the chilly winter air, and most importantly, how right it all felt.
Chapter Fifteen
Sheridan
* * *
The first thing I noticed about Lars’s apartment was the lack of color. It was huge, with an open concept floor plan and expensive furniture, but there was almost nothing that might give a visitor a clue about the man who lived here. It was clean, modern, and very much a bachelor pad. His kitchen was pretty nice, though, with black quartz countertops and the biggest refrigerator I’d ever seen in my life. I mentioned it as we opened the bags of food we’d picked up.
“My housekeeper, Rosalina, does most of the cooking but I thought it important to have a good kitchen.” His eyes met mine. “And bedroom.”
I chuckled. “I’m fond of a good bathtub myself.”
“I do not take baths often. Not at home. I do at the arena, before games, but at home I usually take showers.”
“I love a good bath,” I said, nibbling my chicken ranch taco. “It relaxes me and it’s good for the muscles in my back.”
“Does massage help?” he asked. “When it hurts?”
“When the spasms come, nothing helps but the meds. For everything else, I use a variety of techniques. Massage, yoga, stretching, and now walking. My physical therapist said I have to move more so I’ve been trying. I want to try some new things, but it makes me nervous because I don’t want to have another episode like I did at the restaurant.”
“In the summer, when I don’t have hockey, I’ll help you. We can work out together. I take time off early in the summer to give my body a chance to rest and heal, so I can do less strenuous things with you and show you some moves the team trainers show us after injuries. If you would like this.”
I smiled over at him. “Very much. Thank you.” I looked around. “So where is this cat I’ve heard so much about?”
Lars rolled his eyes, something I’d never seen him do before. “He is not so friendly. I do not even like cats.”
“So why do you have one?” I asked, chuckling.
“Annalise, she wanted him for me, and now I am attached. Even though he is an asshole.” He looked around and let out a low whistle. “Loki, come! I have food.”
We both sat there for a moment, waiting, and to my astonishment, a gorgeous, gray, green-eyed cat came walking around the corner, tail swishing indignantly, as if horrified that he’d been summoned.
“You are a good boy,” Lars said, reaching down and scooping him up. “But do not scratch Sheridan.”
I reached out my hand and let Loki sniff it. Then he turned up his nose and wiggled free of Lars’s grasp, jumping back onto the floor.
“I’ve never had a pet,” I said, watching him sit at Lars’s feet while he fed him a piece of chicken.
“Me either,” Lars said. “My schedule is difficult, but he is very independent, and Rosalina comes to feed him. She thinks he’s an asshole too.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “So tell me something about you I don’t know. Do you have any hobbies? You have a cat, you work out almost every day, and hockey is pretty much your life. What do you do for fun?”