Room for You Page 13


The French doors leading to the back deck swung open and Fred came in, wiping his dirty hands on his jeans. He used his knee to gently close the door.

“Hey, Fred! What is this?” I asked, turning the front to face him.

“Minnesota Wild jersey.”

I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head, bewildered.

“Hockey. Minnesota’s professional hockey team. I hear they’re really good.”

My mouth fell open as the knot in my stomach grew bigger. Brody was a hockey player? No way. Why would he lie to me? It’s not like he didn’t have several opportunities. We chatted for hours. I was at a total loss and a little bit sad. If this was true, the chances of anything happening between us just washed away like sticks under the old bridge.

I put the note in my pocket, rolled up the jersey and walked into the kitchen.

“Hockey player, huh?” My mom eyed me skeptically.

My mind was still back in the family room processing what I just learned. It hadn’t caught up to my body enough to form a coherent sentence.

“Guess so,” I said flatly. I looked at the girls, wondering if I’d ever be able to give them the one thing that should have been inherently natural, a father. I looked over at my mom, who hadn’t taken her eyes off me. “Hey, can you keep an eye on them for a minute? I … have something to do.”

“Of course, honey.”

I got to my room and flopped down on my bed, stretching to reach my laptop. Thanks to the melded combination of Google and our fish bowl world, it was possible to find out just about anything. I took a deep breath and impatiently typed out B-R-O-D-Y M-U-R-P-H-Y in the search bar.

I stared wide-eyed at the screen while the hourglass spun round and round.

YOUR SEARCH YIELDED 3,270,000 RESULTS.

Three MILLION results? Holy shit! I scrolled down, quietly chanting to myself please-no-naked-pictures, please-no-naked-pictures. A headshot of Brody appeared at the top of the page that made my pulse race. His dark chocolate hair was a mess of loose curls that complimented his playful smile and shimmering green eyes. He was unwittingly seducing me and every other girl looking at his picture, probably a few guys too. Under his picture were action shots of him blocking goals, high-fiving his teammates and sparring with a guy from another team. The rest of the page was filled with personal stats, team stats and articles with headlines.

MURPHY’S GLOVE STOPS BRUINS IN THEIR TRACKS

BRODY “THE WALL” MURPHY’S STELLAR PERFORMANCE IN OVERTIME AIDS WILD IN VICTORY

“The Wall?” I snickered out loud to myself. What a nickname. I continued skimming the page but came to a screeching halt when one headline jumped out at me.

BRODY MURPHY ARRESTED IN CHICAGO

Oh God. For the millionth time that day, my stomach dropped. I clicked on the article and started absorbing the words as fast as my brain would allow. Halfway through the article, I chuckled, shaking my head at the computer like it was an old gossipy friend.

He got arrested for that?

It took me ninety-seven minutes to get home from the Cranberry Inn and I spent at least ninety of those minutes thinking about Kacie. The other seven were spent pulling in and out of the rest stop so my psycho dog with a bladder the size of a thimble didn’t pee in my truck.

I was up until three o’clock in the morning talking to Kacie, and despite my utter exhaustion, being with her all night was so worth it. Every time I thought about cutting the conversation short and heading to bed, a strand of her hair would break free from her ponytail and frame her face perfectly … or she’d flash that cute little dimple on her left cheek and suddenly, I didn’t give a shit about sleep anymore. That’s why God invented coffee anyway.

My cell phone alarm went off three hours after we finally turned in, and I packed up quietly and left. There was no real reason for me to leave so early. I had no exciting plans, but I wanted to sneak out before I saw Ashley again, and more importantly, I didn’t want to see Kacie’s face when she realized I’d lied to her about playing hockey.

The lie started out innocently. I just hadn’t felt like sitting at the dinner table answering all the typical questions that came along with being a professional athlete. Then when I talked to Kacie that night about her ex and what she was looking for now, I couldn’t bring myself to tell her. I didn’t want her making a snap judgment about me or my life, hoping that she’d get to know me before she blew me off … but I wanted to make sure that she found out about it from me, so I left my favorite jersey there for her.

My cell phone went off as I pulled into the parking garage of my condo building. For a quick second, I hoped it was Kacie already, but when I looked at my phone the screen said BOSSMAN.

“What’s up, buddy?” I tried sounding as awake as possible after three hours of sleep.

“Whoa! You sound like shit!” Andy teased.

“Good morning to you too. What are you doing up so early?”

“Early? Most normal people are already at work by now, not crawling in from the night before, which is exactly what it sounds like you’re doing. I’m already on my third cup of coffee, my friend.”

“Not exactly. I’m just getting home from up north.” I yawned.

“I thought you were getting home yesterday.”

“That was my hope, but the weather didn’t cooperate.” Thank God it didn’t, I thought.

“That sucks. Well, you wanna fill me in tonight over a beer or what?”

“Yeah, sounds good. Meet at The Bumper at six?” I asked.

“Perfect. If you’re lucky, I’ll let you buy me dinner too.” He laughed as he hung up.

The Bumper was our favorite place to go. It was a hole-in-the-wall bar about four blocks from my condo, with grumpy waitresses and stale peanuts, but they made great burgers, the beer was ice cold and no one bugged me there. Diesel and I slowly made our way upstairs to my condo. I tossed my keys on the kitchen counter while he headed straight for his over-sized dog bed by the fireplace. I collapsed on the couch, debating whether to get up and head to the gym for a couple hours or sleep the day away right where I landed. The more I thought about bicep curls, the more comfortable my couch got and I let sleep take over.

A wet nose grazed my forehead, but I swatted it away. My eyelids felt like they were glued shut, refusing to budge and I was in no rush to force them open. I lay there listening to the sounds of the city rushing by my window, when my phone vibrated from the kitchen counter.

“What do you think, Diesel? You think that’s a text from her?” Diesel yawned and walked back to his bed, unimpressed. “Yeah, you’re right, she probably hates me.” I sighed, sitting up and resting my elbows on my knees. I took my time getting off the couch. I was in no rush to read a nasty message calling me a liar or see a picture of my jersey cut up in pieces on her bedroom floor. The idea of my jersey being on her floor was definitely exciting, but more in a trail-like fashion with her panties right next to it.

I made my way to the kitchen and grabbed my phone, both relieved and disappointed to see it was a text from Andy.

LET’S MAKE IT 5:00, I’M STARVING. SHAW.

I couldn’t help myself, I texted back…

YOU JUST WANT TO SEE ME SOONER. I LOVE YOU TOO, YOU SEXY BEAST.

I was groggy as hell and needed to wake up. “All right, D, we have just enough time for a quick jog before I gotta get in the shower.”

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