Chapter 7
It was quiet and the lights were dim — perfect for a writer who couldn't sleep. Well, except for the loud sound of Charlotte's keyboard as she pecked away at a chapter, inspired by the energy that her body couldn't seem to let go of.
It was a little strange considering the energy she had already expended. Just on the other side of the wall, just past the secret door that led into her bedroom, was a gorgeous man in her bed. It pained her to leave Jordan there. He looked so peaceful, and she had thought about just snuggling closer to him. But when Charlotte needed to write, she needed to write. She couldn't help that she was motivated to work through the next chapter of her book because she was inspired by a hockey player in her bed.
She looked out the window, watching the lights twinkling in the dark night as she wrapped her arms around herself. The soft cotton under her fingers was soothing, especially considering it was the t-shirt Jordan had discarded on her bedroom floor. She couldn't stop herself from grabbing it when she got up, and technically it was his fault for leaving it there.
But she had to focus again, trying to gather her plans for what to do with the rest of this chapter. She thought writing a sequel to Harper's Fair would be easy since she had already developed the character in the first book. But writing 1,500 words in the middle of the night would only work if she didn't get stuck.
"Charlie?"
She turned to see gorgeous blue eyes staring at her from her closet door. "Hey."
Jordan came out of the shadow wearing his tight black boxer briefs and nothing else. Charlotte blatantly stared, but she couldn't help it. He definitely had the toned muscular physique of a professional athlete, and she appreciated it.
"I would ask you if you see something you like," he said with a smile. "But I'm a little worried about your answer since you seem to have abandoned me."
"Sorry." She yawned and stretched her hands above her head, her shirt riding up to expose the skin underneath. At least that's what she assumed happened by the way Jordan looked at her, the hunger back in his eyes from earlier that night. He came over and leaned against her desk, looking down at her instead of trying to sneak a peek at her screen.
"Is there a reason you're awake at whatever time this is?"
She glanced down at the clock on her desk. "3 a.m." He gave her an intrigued look with his eyebrows perking up as he stared down at her. "Just a writer thing. This chapter suddenly came together in my head so I had to get it down."
"Ah," he said with a slight nod.
"But now I'm stuck."
A mischievous grin spread across Jordan's face as he leaned closer, his hand lightly grazing her arm. "Would you like some inspiration?"
"Maybe," she teased with a smile on her face. "Just give me a minute to save this and I'll be back in."
He kissed the top of her forehead, whispering "Don't make me wait too long," before heading back for the bedroom. Charlotte couldn't complain about the view as he left. Hockey players were notorious for having strong glutes from skating, and Jordan was no exception. His choice of attire, or lack thereof at that point, only enhanced her appreciation of his assets.
She quickly saved her work and shut down the computer. There was no way she wanted to lose what she had written already and at least some of the pieces could be messed with in the morning. But she also didn't want to be sitting there anymore after she had been reminded of what was waiting under her covers.
Her secret door closed easily behind her as she quietly padded across the floor to her bed. But apparently, she had made Jordan wait too long after all because he was already asleep. So much for his nighttime inspiration. Charlotte slid under her sheets next to him and flipped her pillow over to the cold side. She was about to fall asleep when she felt his hand slide across her waist as he pulled himself closer to her.
Then he started snoring in her ear.
She couldn't help but smile. What kind of person falls asleep after what he promised her and then takes the extra step of snoring? But there was something so endearing about it. Here was a man so comfortable in her bed that he felt the instinctive need to be closer even as he slept next to her. Charlotte closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She doubted there would be anymore inspiration interrupting her when she was next to Jordan, and she had no objection.
So much for sleeping next to a warm body, she thought, rolling over to find an empty space next to her where Jordan had once been. The man she snuggled up against in the middle of the night seemed to have been replaced by a cold lonely bed and she wasn't sure why. Did she scare him off with her talk about being inspired to write? Was he embarrassed that he fell asleep before she could join him back in bed? Maybe the warm haze of last night had burned off with the harsh sun that now filtered through the blinds in her bedroom and he left before it got more awkward.
Then she smelled fresh coffee.
Charlotte stretched out, making sure each limb was fully extended before finally climbing out of bed. She still had on his t-shirt that she had found last night, and another check confirmed it smelled like his cologne. She grabbed a pair of black leggings, pulling them on before taking a quick look at herself in the full-length mirror. Luckily, she had a few things in her walk-in closet — an extra hair brush, some tissues, and lip gloss — so she could sort of pull herself together. She figured Jordan knew what she was like in the morning considering he was already awake, but Charlotte wanted to at least look a little more presentable than that.
The hardwood floors were cold under her feet, but she didn't seem to notice as she walked into the kitchen to find an empty mug waiting for her next to the coffee pot.
"Morning," came a voice at her kitchen table.
She turned to see Jordan sitting there with a cup of coffee in front of him. He had on his gray pants from the night before with the belt undone. His white button-down shirt hung open with nothing underneath. Her Sunday New York Times was still neatly stacked on her kitchen table, but a section of it seemed to have found its way into his hand.
"You do know today is Tuesday, right?"
"Yeah."
"And this is Sunday's newspaper."
"I also know that, but it's going to take me at least a week to get through all of it." She smiled and took a sip of her coffee, noticing the Mont Blanc pen in his hand. "Are you marking up my newspaper for a particular reason?"
Jordan flashed her the page he was working on. "Crossword puzzle. I was hoping this was Monday's paper since those are easier, but I can assure you that I'll still finish this thing."
She was amused by how mockingly serious he sounded. To be fair, she was also impressed by how much he had finished from her quick look of it. "How long have you been working on that?"
"About a half hour."
"Not bad, King." She walked over and took a seat by the chair he had propped his feet up on, putting her coffee next to the pile of newspaper. "So were the other women impressed by your crossword prowess the morning after?" she said teasingly.
Charlotte saw him flinch slightly, his jaw clenching almost involuntarily as he continued to stare at the page in front of him, his pen hanging in mid-air. "I usually never stayed long enough to find out," he said quietly.
He put the crossword down on the table to fill out another answer as Charlotte tried to decide how to apologize for what she had said. Jordan told her the truth last night about not being the man he used to be. He was trying to change and be a different person, something she knew all too well.
"I'm sorry. That was rude of me to ask."
He shook his head without looking up at her. "Not rude, just accurate."
"Jordan?" She put her hand on his knee and he finally looked up at her. "You can do my crossword puzzle whenever you want."
He gave her a genuine smile that set her at ease. "Just to be clear though, you are talking about the actual crossword puzzle and not making some weird euphemism for sex?"
"You can interpret it in whatever way you want."
He smiled and put his pen down on the table. "Well, if we're making apologies, I'm sorry about falling asleep again last night. I think your bed was a little too comfortable."
Her mind flashed to crawling under the covers, his hands instinctively pulling her close. Her cheeks started to burn from that memory so she shook her head and waved her hand casually in the air. "It was the middle of the night."
Jordan stood up, putting his finger under her chin so he could lightly kiss her lips. "I still owe you then." She hummed as he kissed her again. "And I would hate it if I wasn't able to enjoy your comfortable bed one more time before I leave."
"That would be awful," she said as he began to trail kisses down her neck.
"And I believe this is my shirt."
"It is," she replied, her breath speeding up as his fingers traced the bottom hem of it.
"I need it back, Charlie." His voice was low and vibrated in her chest as his hand began to ghost her skin underneath it.
"If you want it back, I'm sure we can figure out some sort of arrangement."
She could feel his smile against her neck. Then he took her hand and pulled her up out of her chair, kissing her harder, his mouth tasting like warm coffee. His hands grabbed the fabric on the front of the white t-shirt, bunching it in his fist as he began to pull her back to her bedroom, his lips never leaving hers.
Her hair smelled sweet, her skin soft under his fingers, glistening just a bit in the morning sun after she had her way with him again. It wasn't his fault that he couldn't stop himself. The way she looked in his t-shirt was too much. The good news was that it was somewhere on her floor again. The bad news was it had been replaced with her naked body now pressed against his chest.
"I wish I could stay here all day next to you," he murmured.
"Did I say you couldn't?"
"You didn't," he conceded. "But I can't be late for practice. Don't want to set a bad example as captain of the team."
"Oh, you're the captain?" she asked him innocently.
"I am."
"That sounds like it's a very important job," she said, putting an extra emphasis on her words.
Jordan groaned from beneath her. "Don't say it like that or I'll never leave."
She sat up, wrapping the sheet around her chest. "Oh, I'm sorry. Does it bother you that I like talking about your very important job?"
"Don't distract me from putting my clothes back on," he said before climbing out of bed to grab his stuff.
He found his white t-shirt and pulled it over his head. It smelled like her now. Damn, Charlotte was just as much of a distraction with his clothes on as with his clothes off.
A small giggle escaped her lips before she stood up, dragging the bed sheet with her into the closet as if she was some kind of queen. "Where's practice?" she yelled at him.
"The arena."
"So are you heading home first or going straight there?"
He ran a hand through his hair, trying to put it back in place. "I guess I have to go straight there and do the walk of shame into the locker room."
"I hope the embarrassment is worth it."
"Oh, it is."
He smirked and turned, his jaw going slack at the sight of her. She had emerged from her closet now wearing a Jordan King jersey. Her Jordan King jersey. Normally, he would be flattered by seeing someone with his jersey, but those people were usually wearing pants. Charlotte's legs were bare, and it was taunting him.
"I thought you said you wouldn't distract me."
"What, is this distracting?" she asked.
"Yes. A woman wearing a jersey and nothing else is distracting." He stood and began to tenderly zip up his pants before his hands paused, looking up at her with devilish eyes. "Wait, are you wearing anything under that?"
"First of all, no. And second of all, this isn't just some jersey."
"Really?" he asked incredulously.
"This is a Jordan King Detroit Pirates sweater," she said. "And as you can tell from the C on the front, he is the captain, which is pretty impressive."
He stood quietly as she walked over to him and gently snapped the button of his pants before busying herself with his belt buckle. Then her hands found their way down his chest to the bottom button of his shirt, and he swallowed hard as she began to dress him while he could only stare at her.
"You're impressed by the captain?" he asked in a low voice.
"Well, he is a pretty amazing leader for my team. Plus, it's like I said. He's not just any captain." She finished with the last button and straightened out his shirt. "He's my captain."
"Well, I'll make sure he knows that he's made quite an impression on you." He smiled and tucked a bit of hair behind her ear. "And I know you've made quite an impression on him."
"Alright, captain," she said, taking a deep breath. "You better get out of here before I decide you can't leave."
Charlotte led them out to the living room, and Jordan sat down on her couch next to his coat and put on his shoes. "You know I don't want to go," he said, tying his laces to distract him from looking at her.
"I know, but we both have other things to do today."
"Instead of just doing each other?" he asked, giving her one of his trademark smirks.
"Unfortunately."
He put his coat on and pulled her close for another kiss, his hand tracing its way along her thigh and under her jersey, groaning when it kept roaming higher and higher feeling nothing but skin. He had to pull away and compose himself.
"I have this thing so I hope you don't mind if I don't call you until tomorrow," he explained.
"A thing?"
He sheepishly stuffed his hands in his coat pockets. "I have a routine before games."
"Ah, another superstition."
He raised his eyebrows in her direction. "It's a routine," he corrected. "Anyway, I turn my phone off after three o'clock on game days."
"Gotcha."
"But I will call you," he promised. "And you'll be at the game tonight, won't you?"
It almost sounded like a plea, which is not what he wanted but none the less reflected how he felt.
"I'll see you there."
He gently kissed her forehead and walked towards the door with Charlotte following right behind him. "Jordan?" He turned to look at her, her brown eyes and blonde hair mesmerizing him. "I had an amazing time."
"Me too."
"And one other thing." She leaned past him to grab the door knob, her lips close to his ear, and whispered, "I'll be wearing pants with this jersey tonight, but there won't be anything under them."
Jordan's head dropped as he groaned and closed his eyes. "You need to show me some mercy, Charlie."
She smiled and gently kissed the scruff on his cheek before opening the door for him. "Have a good game, King."
Jordan heard the door close behind him as he walked to the elevator. His body was stiff from sleeping next to someone after so many nights of being alone, and he would need the team's masseuse to loosen up his aching muscles before practice.
At least the locker room would have copies of today's newspaper so he could have an easier go at the crossword puzzle. And no, he did not purposely leave the puzzle from Charlotte's paper sitting right in the middle of her kitchen table to impress her. And he definitely didn't make it obvious that he had almost completed the whole thing in pen to prove his linguistic skills to a beautiful novelist. Nope, that's not what happened at all.
His brother's car was in the garage when Jordan got home that afternoon after practice. Ethan would spend some days working there if he wasn't needed on site, which Jordan would normally welcome. But he hadn't come home last night and if he knew his brother — and he did — Ethan would've noticed his absence this morning. He also probably would've been happy he didn't have to share his coffee.
He had barely made it into the kitchen when he heard, "Jordan? That you?"
"Are you expecting someone else?"
Ethan's head popped into the doorway, a knowing smirk on his face. "Well, well, well. Look who finally made it back."
Jordan just casually shrugged and opened the fridge, snatching the orange juice from the top shelf and drinking directly from the container.
"Gross," his brother lamented as he shuffled in. "I guess I don't get any more of that juice."
"Sorry, I was thirsty."
Ethan grabbed the stool for the kitchen counter and sat there quietly, staring at his brother in anticipation. Normally, Jordan would take this as a sign and run with it. But Charlotte wasn't normal.
"So are you going to start talking or not?" Ethan asked. "I have to go yell at the electrician about that building on Congress, and I would rather hear about your night."
"It was a night."
Ethan's eyes narrowed. "Are you going to be an ass or are you going to tell me what happened?" he said. "Because I'm quite observant, and I know you didn't wake up in our house this morning so start spilling."
Jordan took another swig of orange juice, trying to stall. He wanted to tell his brother everything. It was something they would normally do after one of them enjoyed the company of a woman. Bragging rights among brothers and all that. But it was also Charlotte, and Charlotte was...
"Earth to Jordan," his brother said, breaking him out of his thoughts. "Are you going to start talking or not?"
"Sorry," he replied sheepishly. "I just don't know what to say."
Ethan's tone became more serious as he took in Jordan's response. "Wow. Charlotte had quite of effect on you, eh?"
"I mean, I did stay, didn't I?"
Yeah, he stayed. Of course he stayed. She told him he looked comfortable in her place. She ravished him on her sofa and in her bed. She bewitched him with her warm skin under his touch. And when he knew it was time to finally leave, she teased him by putting his jersey on her body. But those were things he could keep to himself for now.
"Dinner was good."
Ethan stared at him. "Dinner?" he asked incredulously. "You spent the night with Charlotte Stone, and you want to talk about dinner?"
"We went to that new place at the Ren Cen with the really good bread pudding."
His brother looked at him a bit longer before a smirk began to spread across his face. "Yep, she had quite an effect on you," he said. "You OK with that?"
Jordan leaned against the counter, the weight of what his brother had asked him suddenly beginning to push down on his shoulders. "I should be, right?"
"Oh no. Don't start over thinking this."
Too late. Ethan's question had brought up an internal conflict that he had subconsciously been grappling with ever since he first decided to pursue Charlotte. He was hoping he could still ignore it, but the facts as they were now meant that he had to actually address what was bothering him.
"I'm going to go take my game-day nap," Jordan grumbled as he took the orange juice container and shoved it back in the fridge.
His brother stood up from his seat. "Jordan, don't get spooked by your feelings for a woman if you want to have them."
"Thanks."
Ethan nodded and headed back to his office, leaving Jordan stuck in his thoughts. He trudged up the stairs, took off his clothes — except for the shirt that still smelled like Charlotte — and climbed under his sheets. Was getting involved with a woman best known for being a socialite really what he wanted to do? He knew she was more than that, but most people would make their assumptions. He had deflected enough reporters' questions that they had finally stopped asking about his personal life before they put away their notebooks. They had finally focused on his scoring and the team and the potential to win the cup this year.
He couldn't imagine what those reporters would do once they found out about his date with Charlotte.
The date.
Jordan groaned and rolled over, banging his head into his pillow before feeling the tension ease in his shoulders as he drifted off to sleep. He would worry about all that when he woke up. Right now, he just wanted to close his eyes and think of Charlotte's golden hair running through his fingers.