Sterling (Carolina Reapers 6)

“Of course, you are,” Hendrix said, his tone anything but speakerphone-approved. “You’re desperate to hear all the ways I’m going to worship you when I get home.”

“Babe,” she said, her eyes flying wide.

“First, I’m going to start with that dirty mouth of yours,” he continued without a hitch, and I flushed. “Second, I’m going to pin your arms above your head so you can’t move. Then I’m going to slide my huge—”

“You’re on speaker, Hollywood!” I shouted because the mortification of it was too much for me to bear. Savannah was laughing so hard she could barely breathe.

Hendrix cleared his throat on the other end of the line. “Butterfly,” he said to Savannah, his tone teasing. “I know you like to play, but I didn’t realize we’d upgraded to a three-way phone situation.”

Savannah reeled in her laughter, sucking in a sharp breath. “I tried to tell you London was here,” she said. “You were too wrapped up in your fantasy to listen.”

“Can you blame me?” He laughed. “Hi, London.”

“Hi,” I said awkwardly.

“Why am I on speaker, Butterfly?” he asked.

“Right,” she said. “I wanted to ask you about Jansen Sterling.”

“You wanted to ask me about Sterling?”

“Yes,” she said. “Is he a good guy? I know you met him a while back. Or is he one of those we should be wary of?”

“We?”

Savannah rolled her eyes at his tone. “Hendrix Malone, you aren’t seriously jealous, are you?”

I rolled my eyes. The idea that Savannah would be thinking of anyone other than her lovestruck fiancé was downright comical.

“Never,” he said. “But a man has to clarify.”

“She’s asking for me,” I said, my tone shaky. “I have to work with Jansen on a more personal level for my position.”

“And you want to know if he’s an asshole.”

“I suppose I do,” I said, flashing a glare at Savannah. She shrugged, returning the look with a silent “oh, come on, you wanted to know” in response.

“I haven’t known him as long as Roman or Nixon,” he said, referring to his quarterback and running back best friends. “But everything he’s shown me points to him being a stand-up guy. He’s no angel, but none of us were in our rookie days—doesn’t matter if it’s football or hockey. Just saying.”

Savannah shook her head, a smile on her lips.

“You should be good,” he continued. “And not that you need the support,” he said. “I know you have your brother watching your back. But I’ve got it too. If he does get out of hand—"

“Thanks, Hendrix,” I cut him off, not needing to hear the threat to follow. I’d heard that plenty—too much—from my brother in the past. And while it warmed my heart to know that my best friend’s fiancé cared about me enough to say that, I didn’t want to make this into a bigger deal than it was.

Because it was just a means to an end, right? He was helping me, and in truth, I was helping him. These promo spots weren’t just about our direction this season on the Reapers, but highlighting where he was in his career. Which was increasingly climbing to be one of the best goalies the NHL had ever seen. That had to be the real reason behind his sudden bargain, but it was great to hear that Hendrix vouched for him nonetheless.

Savannah scooped up the phone, returning the call to private, and I waved to her as a silent goodbye. I did not need to be here for that conversation, having heard more than enough beforehand.

Though, as I drove back to my apartment, I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have that kind of relationship. I’d had sex all of one time, and it was nothing to write home about, let alone have an intense, detailed conversation over the phone about. I mean, how would it feel to want someone so bad that they couldn’t wait to get home to you? So badly they had to start it up on the phone because they simply couldn’t stand to be without you?

A flush raked over my skin as I thought about Sterling and the way he’d haunted my thoughts since that night. How I’d been restless in my big, empty bed, tossing beneath my sheets with his dark blue eyes flashing in my head and his smell lingering in my nose.

We’d barely spent more than an hour of real time together, and I couldn’t stop.

What would happen when I saw him outside the arena? In close quarters nonetheless?

My heart raced at the thought, and the logical side of my brain told me to check myself. I was a professional—much like Maxim had said—and I had a job to do. This was the only way I could do my job, so therefore, I had to do it.

It had nothing to do with the way Sterling made me feel inside—like that passion I’d always stated as overrated could be real with the right person.