Hard Hit (IceCats 3)

I literally drop my face into my keyboard. Softly. I’m not trying to mess up my face. “Mom, I’m good.”

“He makes over seven figures a year.”

“Bye, Mom.”

With my face still on my keyboard, I somehow hang up as I groan loudly. I don’t think she’s ever going to quit. Not that I’m surprised. My mom isn’t a quitter, which is where I get it. My dad, though, he’s perfect. He doesn’t push me at all. He is a firm believer in being in love with someone before you marry them. Mom wants money and babies. I don’t know how they got together, honestly. But they make it work, and they love me. Even if my mom is exhausting, my dad’s kindness and support balance it all out.

And I ignore my mom a lot.

I lift my face off the keyboard on an exhale before focusing on my computer. I have a million things to do and even to think about, but of course, Kirby is a one-man show in my head. The super-nosy part of me wants to know what is going on. The caring, fixing part of me wants to solve it all for him and make sure he is okay. It may be nothing, but I’m concerned. I just want him to be happy.

Happy with me would be awesome, but I know that ship has sailed.

I wanted to be his Stanley Cup. But nope, we couldn’t even make the play-offs.

Man. Nico would be so proud of that analogy!

However, it’s understood that no one, and I mean no one, speaks of the loss against that Nashville team. To say Nico and his friends are super in their feelings about losing the last series is putting it mildly. I’ve never seen a grown man cry the way some of the guys did. Super crazy-pants, but then, I don’t get hockey. I mean, the knocking into one another is really hot, but I don’t have the patience to chase around a puck. Plus, I can’t skate, so that’s a thing too.

I sit back, crossing my legs as my high heel hangs off the tip of my toe. I bounce my shoe as I read through a contract that is due to my client today. I start to bring my water bottle straw to my lips and sip, but something catches my attention. I furrow my brows in as I move my eyes from my computer to the tall, beautiful man standing at reception with a baby in his arms. I know that back—and that ass.

Kirby.

I promptly start choking as I drop the bottle to the floor and hurry out of my chair…and promptly fall face first on the carpet of my office. I let out a little scream, and once more, I hate that my office walls are glass. If it were a real office with real walls, no one would have seen or heard me. I just hope that Kirby didn’t hear or see it. Alas, karma is out to get me for talking back to my mom. When I look up to where he was standing, he has turned, his blazing amber gaze right on me. Never in my life have I seen eyes like his. They’re stunning, beautiful, and rare. Just like his smile. He seems shocked to see me—I’m sure I’m quite the image to take in—but then his lips curve up crookedly.

I forgot what the combination of eyes and smile does to me.

How they make me feel.

Like a bumbling buffoon.

Maybe it’s best that I stay right here and act like I didn’t see him.

But for that to work, I need to break eye contact.

And that’s impossible.

Chapter Four

Kirby

* * *

Jaylin.

Jesus.

When you don’t see someone for a long time, you start to make up how gorgeous they are in your head. With Jaylin, though, I didn’t do that. I didn’t have to. Her level of beauty isn’t even describable. Fuck me, she’s gorgeous. I will never ever forget the first time I saw her. As soon as she walked into the bar, my eyes narrowed in on her. She has a classic, pure beauty I’ve never witnessed before a day in my life. I’ve been around the block, I’ve seen and been with some gorgeous women, my ex included, but there is something about Jaylin that sends me to the ultimate limit. She gives me the feeling as if my toes are on a ledge and I’m fighting for balance not to fall. She’s powerful. Stunning. And too smart for her own good. Not locking her down is my biggest regret in my life, and I’ve done some suspect things. I know I had to try with my ex for Celeste’s sake, but man, I’m pretty sure I’d give up a pinkie to have stayed with Jaylin.

I don’t need a pinkie to play hockey, I don’t think.