Sawyer (Carolina Reapers 2)

“Good. Wait here for a second.” She walked into the kitchen, and a moment later the light I usually saw through the window was out. She finished locking up and then held out her hand at the front door. “Well, are you coming?”

I shook my head, but I followed her out the door, and she locked it behind us.

“You’re just at Langley’s old place, right?” she questioned as she zipped up her jacket.

“Yep. You really don’t have to walk me home. I’m fully capable of making it there myself.”

“Call it my public service,” she answered as we began walking toward the exclusive high rise Langley had chosen as her home before she married Axel. “I’m just doing my part for the city of Charleston.”

“Pretty sure putting me down would be doing your part for the city,” I joked.

She narrowed her eyes. “Knock it off. You know if you stop second-guessing yourself, you’ll be just fine.”

“What do you mean?” I asked as we crossed the quiet street.

“I’ve watched you,” she admitted. “You have killer instincts, but in some games, you…Oh, I don’t know. I’m not an analyst, but it looks like you almost stop yourself mid-motion and do something else.”

I glanced down at her and thought back through the last few games. “I don’t trust myself,” I admitted. “I get out there under the lights, and I’m facing down these legends that I’ve always worshipped, and I start to second-guess everything.”

“Hmmm,” she said with a nod. “You have imposter syndrome.”

“Excuse me?” I questioned, beating my doorman to the door and holding it open so Echo could walk inside.

“Imposter syndrome,” she repeated as she took in the marble expanse of the lobby.

I punched the button for the elevator, and it dinged immediately. Guess there weren’t too many people hanging around at two a.m. “Explain,” I said after I selected our floor and the doors closed behind us.

“It’s when you feel like you’re an imposter,” she explained as we rose, the lights highlighting the floor numbers as we climbed. “You know, like you don’t think you belong in the NHL.”

The elevator dinged and we stepped out. “That’s because I don’t,” I said softly as we passed by two doors toward mine at the end of the hall.

A twist of the key later, we were in my apartment—well, Langley’s—and I kicked off my shoes as the door shut behind us. Echo hung her jacket on the hooks by the door.

“For fuck’s sake, this place is gorgeous,” Echo muttered as she walked through the modern, minimalist living room to look out the window. “And she gave it up for Suburbia?”

I laughed as she turned and then pointed to the brochures and floorplans scattered on the coffee table. “I will be, too. A house is part of my signing bonus. I just haven’t decided which one.”

Her mouth dropped. “Your life is weird.”

“I know. Trust me.”

“You do belong in the NHL,” she told me as she bent to unzip her boots. She lost about five inches as she stepped out of them and groaned when her bare feet touched the soft rug.

“Only by default,” I told her, crossing to the kitchen. “Water?”

“Sure,” she answered, following me. “Not by default. It’s not like you were the last goalie on the planet, so they got stuck with you.”

I handed her a bottle of water from the fridge and twisted the top off mine. “It’s exactly like that. I didn’t make a team straight out of college. I wasn’t good enough. And while I’m a damn good college goalie, and better than the other guys they tried out, I’m still not up there with the Eric Gentrys of the world.”

“Who?” she questioned, then drank.

“Eric Gentry? Faith’s brother, and one of the best goalies in the league,” I explained. He was the only reason I was in any sort of shape when Coach McPherson called.

“Oh, Eric! I don’t believe I ever knew his last name, and they always call him Iron Man anyway,” she said. “And I bet he doesn’t second-guess himself.” She shrugged like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“He has no reason to.” I put my water on the counter and rubbed the skin between my eyebrows. Fuck, I was tired.

“I think I need to tuck you in.”

“I’m not five.”

“Trust me, I’ve noticed.”

My gaze jerked to hers. She lifted the corner of her mouth in a smirk and looked me over.

The electric tension between us flared, and my pulse picked up. That kiss had been the best and worst thing I could have ever possibly done. The best because she tasted like the sweetest sin, and the worst because I knew it wasn’t going to happen again.

I wasn’t her type. We had zero time for each other. We were opposites in just about every way. There were some things in the world that even killer chemistry like ours couldn’t overcome.