My phone vibrates, forcing me to stop my jog and pluck it from the holder strapped around my arm.
Del: Didn’t find anything worth noting. He’s just a hockey player with a bad temper, it seems.
Lily: Good. Thanks for the confirmation. Any updates on his case?
Del: Checked yesterday. They’re still investigating.
Lily: Hmm, interesting. Keep me posted. We’ll be at home base today.
Del: Roger that.
I slide my phone back into place and jog back.
Luke walks out as I reach the sidewalk in front of the apartment, and he’s carrying a box. “Payton’s up and on the couch. I think he’s itching for a shower.”
Oh my…I hadn’t given that part much thought. Reflecting back on my own run-ins that ended with cracked or broken ribs, I remember the challenge of showering and especially washing my hair. At least Payton’s is shorter than mine.
I nod, then gesture at the box. “What’s that about?”
His gaze drops to the folded brown flaps. “The apartment Sophie and I found is ready early. And you two don’t need a third wheel around.”
Not having to continue the charade twenty-four-seven would certainly make aspects of this arrangement easier. “I assume Payton knows?”
“Yeah. He seemed pretty happy about it.”
Probably because he’ll get his privacy back—not to mention his bed—since I’ll take over the guest room. “I bet he is.”
Luke shakes his head and chuckles. “You two are really great together.”
My mind does a whirlwind inventory of the last week. Guess we’re pulling things off better than I thought. “Um, thanks.”
He continues to his SUV in the parking lot.
“Luke, wait.” I walk toward him and step off the sidewalk as he stops and turns around. “If you don’t mind me asking, what makes you say that?”
He shrugs, causing the box he’s carrying to slide up and down his torso. “Nothing specific. You two just seem to be a good fit. And I’ve never seen the Pay-man distracted like this. Tell him he better watch it, or one of the rookies will take his place.”
His chuckle tells me he’s joking, but still, I can’t let that piece of knowledge pass without some serious consideration, probably for the best that I’m moving out of his bedroom. That should help minimize distractions for both of us. I’m still bothered by how I didn’t see Mia and Sophie walking up to me at the game ahead of time.
I grin appropriately. “I’ll make sure he knows.”
But my smile fades quickly as I enter the apartment and find the couch empty. “Payton?”
Only silence. I stride into the bedroom, but the bed and the corner chair are vacant. The sound of the shower turning on draws me to the bathroom door. I knock loud enough to be heard over the noise because I really don’t want to walk in and surprise him. Or me, for that matter.
The door opens. Payton has his arm cradled against a very large, dark bruise on his injured side. Besides being shirtless, he’s only wearing a pair of blue boxers with yellow hockey sticks all over them. I snap my gaze back to his face and keep it there.
His expression turns downright uncomfortable. “I didn’t get a shower after the game last night, and if Idon’t wash this funk off soon, I might crawl out of my skin. Any chance you could help a bloke out?”
My brows shoot up of their own accord. “You want me to…batheyou?”
“Just my hair. And well, maybe my legs as bending over hurts like the dickens. And perhaps my back?” He says as an afterthought.
“In other words, you mean yes.” I let out a breathy sigh, resigned to my fate.
He gives me a slow nod. At least he has the wherewithal to look embarrassed. Most guys would look at this as an opportunity.
“Fine. But the boxers stay on. You can take care of those areas yourself.” I think the heat riding up my face matches the red tinge climbing his neck.
