Chapter 1

Van

I know I should get up and hit the gym, but I’m feeling too fucking lazy today. We’re in the home stretch of the regular season with the first round of the playoffs starting next week. Our practices have been light since we’ve clinched the top spot and the coaches want us as fresh as possible. I’ve decided to apply that same reasoning to myself, and it does not bode well for me to take some initiative to hit the gym. I’m a procrastinator by nature and I hate fucking working out. It’s a necessary evil, but if I can get by with missing one workout without feeling too terribly guilty, I’ll do it.

Lucas comes out of his bedroom and heads into the kitchen. I can tell by the subtle waft of cologne that follows him as he walks by the couch where I’m lying that he’s going out tonight. I assume he’s seeing that woman he met from the museum. He seems pretty taken with her and that works fine by me. He spends a lot of nights at her apartment so I have this little house to myself much of time. This is good because I don’t like to be around people that much.

The Cold Fury management hooked me and Lucas up when we were both traded to the team in case we wanted to potentially room together until we had time to settle into the area. This seemed like a good idea to me—Lucas as well—so we rented this little house for six months. It’s been good so far and we keep out of each other’s way. But I’d been straight up with him a few days ago when he was telling me about this woman he’s seeing—I think Stephanie’s her name. I’d told him I didn’t make a good friend, which is the truth, and since then he’s not shared anything personal with me.

It’s been all, “I’m ordering a pizza…want in on it?”

Or, “Dude…it’s your turn to take the garbage out. It’s starting to smell.”

Like I said…I’m a procrastinator.

I can hear Lucas rustling around in the refrigerator as I keep my eyes on the news. It’s one of the things I’m a little obsessive about and if I’m around a television at six P.M., I’ve got the news on first to catch the local, then to catch the national. It’s been a habit of mine since I was a little kid, and yes, I was a weird little kid, no thanks to my parents. It’s why I got my ass kicked so much in grade school.

There’s a knock at the door and I don’t even flinch. I’m being lazy so I muster up the strength to roll my eyes to look at Lucas. Yeah, he’s definitely got a date tonight. I can tell by the way he’s dressed and his hair is styled. He stares back at me, holding a water bottle in his hand.

“Are you going to get the door?” he asks before taking a sip of the water.

“Why me?” I drawl.

“Um…because you’re closer to it,” he suggests, and that’s true.

With a heavy sigh, I roll off the couch and take the three strides to reach the front door. Like I said…this house is tiny, tiny, tiny.

I swing the door open, not knowing if it’s a neighbor, a Jehovah’s Witness, or perhaps even a crazed fan. Don’t give a fuck either…whichever it is, they’re not getting my time.

My entire body seems to lock for a moment when I take in the beautiful woman standing on the doorstep. She has several pieces of luggage on the porch at her feet and I’ve got to admit, this is the craziest stalker incident I’ve ever heard of.

Too bad she’s crazy because she’s fucking hot as hell. Long brown hair shot through with lighter streaks of brown, and hazel eyes that sparkle with intense curiosity as she watches me. I’m wondering if her fan crush is on me or Lucas.

Then it hits me…brown hair, hazel eyes.

Fuck…this is Lucas’s sister. I’ve seen the picture of his family on the entertainment unit that houses our living room TV and I recognize her.

Sweeping a hand from Lucas’s direction toward Simone, I step back a bit so Lucas can see her and ask him, “Something you’re not telling me?”

“That’s my sister,” he says with an eye roll as he walks toward us.

Yeah…figured that one out on my own. Just not sure why she’s here at our house.

With luggage.

I turn to look back at his sister as Lucas walks our way, and I’m momentarily startled by the way she’s checking me out. Eyes actually dragging down my body, and back up again with pure appreciation. If I didn’t have such a hard shell in place, I’d be a little offended that one of my teammate’s family members would be so obvious, but truth be told…I just don’t give a fuck.

“What are you doing here?” Lucas barks at the woman as he comes to the door. I know he told me her name before but fuck if I can remember it.

She doesn’t even jolt at her brother’s harsh tone but lazily slides her eyes to him. She gives him a bright smile and then pushes right past me to enter the house. “I’m staying.”

As she moves by me, she pats me on the arm and says in a silky, purring voice. “Can you bring those in for me?”

Her touch is light, her scent is sweet, and I have no reaction one way or the other. Because I don’t let myself react to the opposite sex like that.

Ever.

“You’re not staying, Simone,” Lucas says with frustration. “You said you were going back to school.”

So her name’s Simone?

I suppose the name fits her. Goes well with her light French Canadian accent.

I turn to watch the siblings square off, still holding the door open in case Lucas throws her out.

“Changed my mind,” she says firmly, crossing her arms over her chest. Staking her position. “And I can’t stay long term at Max’s because I’m taking up one of the boy’s rooms and he needs it back. I like this area, I love my brothers, so I’m staying.”

Lucas straightens up, squares his shoulders and says back just as firmly. “Not here you’re not.”

Rather than engage in a pissing contest with her brother, Simone turns to me and actually bats her eyelashes. I can’t help but notice how long and dark they are, framing eyes that seem to heat up when she looks at me.

“You don’t mind, do you, big guy?” she asks me, her accent getting heavier, maybe a little silkier as she tries to flirt with me.

It does nothing for me frankly, but I also don’t give a shit one way or the other.

I shrug. “I don’t give a fuck but you’re not getting my room.”

“You’re not getting mine either,” Lucas says quickly.

“It’s settled then,” Simone says with a bright smile as she walks with swaying hips to the couch. She drops down on it and there goes my hope of watching the news. “I totally don’t mind sleeping here.”

I make a mental note to pull my TV out of storage. I hadn’t bothered with it before but looks like I won’t be enjoying the TV out here anymore.

Lucas merely gives a frustrated sigh of acceptance, his head lowering in defeat. I feel a little sorry for the dude, so I do him a solid and bring the luggage in off the porch.

“Be a sweetie,” Simone actually purrs at me with another flutter of her eyelashes and a pursing of her lips, “and put those in Lucas’s room so they won’t be in the way.”

I don’t even spare her a glance but merely drop her bags just inside the front door, kicking it shut behind me. With a resigned sigh of my own, I figure I should just head to the gym for a workout. I push past Lucas to the small hallway that leads to the two bedrooms.

“I’m Simone by the way,” his sister calls out to me. “Lucas’s little sister.”

I don’t respond, and I know it’s rude, but again…don’t care. I step into my bedroom and shut the door behind me. If there was a lock on it, I’d turn it. Not because I don’t feel safe or secure, but I can tell Simone’s a pushy sort of girl and I wouldn’t put it past her to barge in.

Because the house is small, even with my door closed, I can hear Lucas say, “What the fuck are you doing, Simone? This is crazy even by your standards.”

I can’t help but smile at that. Apparently my original estimation that the woman on the porch was crazy holds true.

“He’s kind of rude, don’t you think?” she responds, talking about me.

This actually makes me smile. It’s not the first time I’ve been called rude.

There’s also been closed off.

Introverted.

Asshole.

Weird.

As I rifle through my drawers for a pair of workout shorts, I listen without shame to their conversation, just a little curious why his sister is here.

“Not as rude as you showing up on my porch with luggage saying you’re staying here without asking,” Lucas retorts and adds on, “and not as rude as you deciding not to go back to school after you agreed it was the best thing for you.”

“You don’t understand—”

“What I understand,” he practically yells at her, “is that you are less than thirty days from graduating with a bachelor’s degree from a fucking ivy league school and if you go back now, you will not fuck that up. It is absolutely ridiculous for you to think you can step away when you’re this close.”

Now that’s interesting. I can’t remember if Lucas ever told me about his sister, but she’s apparently a smarty pants. Ivy league educated and all.

It was the only regret I had about entering the NHL at age 18. I had wanted to go to college. I’d had plans to major in psychology. But the opportunity to play professional hockey was too good to pass up, and I figured I could always go to college after I retired.

As I locate a pair of shorts, then search for a t-shirt, I can barely hear Simone say, “I’m not that close to graduating.”

Whoa…now this is like soap-opera interesting. I snag a t-shirt and move closer to my closed bedroom door so I can listen in. I start to remove my flannel shirt and jeans as I continue to eavesdrop.

Simone continues in a tentative voice. “I actually never enrolled for this semester.”

“What the everloving fuck?” Lucas barks at her so loud, I wince on her behalf. “How is that even possible?”

“I decided last semester I was just done with school,” she returns quietly. I stop undressing to put my ear closer to the door. “I was achieving a goal that wasn’t mine, but was dad’s.”

“It was your goal too,” Lucas snaps at her.

“No. It wasn’t. Dad is always the one that pushed medical school at me and well, I just never told him differently, that I didn’t want to be a doctor.”

“So you just decided not to finish the last semester of your undergrad? What have you been doing for the last two and a half months?”

“Working at a bar off campus,” she says, but I can tell by the slight defensiveness in her voice coupled with how quickly she answered, that’s a very clear lie. I can spot a lie on your face, or in your tone of voice faster than a New York minute.

“And the money for your tuition and what mom and dad give you for living expenses?” Lucas grits out.

“The tuition’s been refunded; the check was sent to me. As for the living expenses…well, I’ve been using some of the money they put in my account each month to supplement my wages.”

“They are going to fucking kill you,” Lucas says, and that’s when I decide to checkout of the conversation.

It was interesting, but it’s not my problem. So it looks like we have another roommate for a bit, but it doesn’t bother me as long as she stays out of my way. And if she gets too intrusive, I can always get on it and buy my own home. I signed a three-year deal with the Cold Fury so I’ll definitely be buying, and my house will be big enough to move Etta here, if I can convince her to leave California.

Speaking of which, I finish getting dressed and grab my cellphone off my dresser. I sit on the bed with my back against the headboard and dial her. I imagine at this time of day, she’s probably sitting on her patio reading a book.

“Hey you,” she answers, the melody of her sweet voice is the best kind of music to my ears.

“What are you doing?” I ask I stretch my legs out on the bed, knowing that it might be the kiss of death to my motivation to hit the gym.

“I actually just got back in from a late lunch,” she answers and I hear the mischief in her voice.

“With who?” I ask, marveling at how my voice is different when I talk to her.

Teasing.

Light.

Funny.

So not the Van Turner that everyone else sees.

“His name is Mark and he’s a veterinarian,” she says in an excited rush. “He’s really nice, and very handsome, and the only thing that’s been a slight turnoff is that his practice specializes in reptiles. I just have this image of going to his house and there being tanks all over the place with lizards and snakes.”

I laugh, knowing Etta’s extreme fear of said reptiles. Well, small ones actually. She says it’s the small ones that give her the wiggins. I once found her sitting on the kitchen island of my house because a tiny lizard was loose somewhere in there.

“Maybe before you invest any time in him,” I say sagely, “you should ask him about that. Not that I think you’re ready to go to his house after just one lunch date.”

My aunt spent her entire life devoted to raising me and never got married. She would always say that was the way she wanted it, but I sometimes wonder if it was just too hard for a single woman with a kid to find someone she could get serious about.

But since I’ve moved to the east coast, she’s started doing a little sporadic dating which has made me happy. I definitely harbor guilt that she lost out on some things in life when she took me on.

“What’s going on with you?” she deftly changes the subject, as she considers me to be more important than herself.

“Having a lazy day,” I tell her. “With the playoffs clinched, I don’t have much motivation to do anything.”

“Slacker,” she says affectionately. “And I’ll assume that the answer to my repeated question if you’re seeing anyone is still the same?”

“Still the same,” I tell her.

Unless you want to count the strippers I watch at a local titty bar when I have a night off.

“Van…you’re missing out on so much,” she chides.

“I could say the same about you,” I return softly. “We both had our reasons for hiding away.”

“I know,” she says on a soft sigh. “I just want you to be happy. Maybe you should follow my lead and venture forth.”

“I am happy,” I lie to her. I don’t know that I’ve ever been truly happy a day in my life.

Well, that’s not true. I was beyond grateful, and it was as close to happy as I could get, when Etta came and told me I was going to live with her forever and ever. As an eight-year-old kid who had been traumatized by his own parents, it was the best gift I’ve ever been given.

“Have you gone to see him?” she asks hesitantly, but with the clear distaste in her voice that only comes out when she talks about him.

“No,” I tell her softly. “And you’d know if I did because you’d be the first person I would tell.”

“You don’t have to,” she says with swift finality.

“I know. I’m still considering it.”

“You know I’m a good person, Van,” she says with a sigh. “But God help my soul, I hope he dies before you get up the courage.”

I can’t help but chuckle. Etta has been my protector and champion forever. Still going strong at it.

“Listen,” I say as I push up from the bed. “If I decide to go, I’ll tell you ahead of time. That will give you an opportunity to talk me out of it, okay?”

She gives a small laugh. “Okay. Rotten kid.”

Stepping into my closet, I bend over and pick up my gym shoes. “I’ve got to get going. I’ve decided to not be a slug and go workout.”

“Maybe you’ll meet a pretty girl there,” she says slyly.

“Goodbye, Etta,” I drawl.

“I love you, kiddo,” she says with deep affection.

“I love you more,” I tell her back truthfully. The only woman I’m sure I’ll ever love.

When we disconnect, I put my shoes on and grab my wallet and keys off my dresser. I pocket my cellphone and open my bedroom door. When I step into the hallway, I’m almost mowed over by Simone as she drags her largest suitcase toward Lucas’s room which is just past mine on the opposite side.

“Sorry,” she mumbles as she comes to a stop and I step back into my doorway to give her room.

I just stare down at her, waiting for her to pass. She doesn’t and stares right back at me.

“Lucas said you’re grumpy,” she says with a curious tilt of her head.

“Yup,” I agree.

“Hmmm,” she says as if she’s appraising my entire personality. “I’m going to go with brooding. It’s a better fit for the hotness you exude.”

“Hotness?” I ask with a cocked eyebrow.

“Oh, come on,” she says dramatically and waves her hand up and down at me. Her eyes roam over my body and if I was an oversensitive prude, I’d be offended. But I’m not. “Just look at all you got going on? Big and muscly. And those deep, sensitive eyes filled with mystery. Total hotness and totally broody.”

“Whatever you say,” I drawl as I try to step past her. She moves and places herself in my path.

“I’m cooking dinner tonight for you and Lucas,” she practically chirps with a bright smile. And fine, I’ll admit it…those two dimples that pucker when she does so add a new level of hotness to her own package.

But they don’t sway me. “I’ll pass. I’ll grab something while I’m out.”

She stares at me a moment, and I can see the calculation in her eyes. She’s absolutely up to something and for the life of me I can’t figure out how it could involve me. Maybe she’s just fucking crazy, like originally assumed.

Finally, she gives a regal nod of her head and moves to the side. I lower my gaze and move past her, bristling when she murmurs. “Definitely hot and broody. I like it.”