Sleet Kitten: Book One of the Sleet Series
Sleet Kitten: Chapter 13

I’ve been in the playoffs many times throughout my career, even won the Stanley Cup once, but I don’t think I’ve ever been as nervous as I am right now. I know Kitten likes me, likes spending time with me. Logically, I realize that we hardly know each other and that we haven’t spent much actual time together, but this feels different. I mean, I’ve dated plenty. I’ve been in serious relationships before. But it’s never felt like this… Sure, the other night was pretty damn weird. But it just endeared Kitten to me even more. My mama might have been playing her – in a sneaky, well-meaning way – but they still clicked. After Kitten snuck out, I drove Mama home and she talked about my girl the whole time. She had only good things to say, and I’m a little scared about what Mama’ll do to me if I fuck this up. If I do fuck it up, I’ll deserve whatever sort of punishment she sends my way.

I never clarified that tonight was a date. It is. But it’s dinner at home, so I don’t want to go overboard with dressing up. Casual seems like the best way to be ourselves. I’m wearing my favorite pair of dark-wash jeans and a grey Henley. At the risk of sounding like a douchebag, I’ll admit I look good in this shirt. Hey – I make my living as an athlete; I’m proud of my body. I typically don’t try to put myself on display, but – seeing as how I’m trying to impress Kitten, while also hoping she might want to put her hands on me – I’ll use whatever tools I have.

It’s already dark outside, and I have the lights on low in the apartment, showcasing my view of downtown. My condo has an open-plan living space, so the kitchen and large dining table have a view out the living room windows. Past the kitchen is a hallway that leads to the master bedroom, a bathroom, and a second bedroom that I’ve turned into an office. And, of course, on the other side of the living room is the set of stairs leading down to the library and theater. I was serious in my text to Kitten last night; I would love to watch another movie together. It’s not even so much that I think she needs to watch The Godfather. I just want an excuse to get close to her and have her pressed against me for a few hours.

As I’m glancing around, wondering if there’s anything I overlooked, my phone rings. Seeing it’s the security desk downstairs calling, I answer.

“This is Jackson.”

“Good evening, Mr. Wilder. Henry from downstairs, I wanted to let you know that your guest has arrived, and she’s on her way up.”

“Thank you, Henry. I have food coming shortly; feel free to just send it up. No need for any more calls tonight.”

“As you wish, Mr. Wilder.”

“Have a good night.”

I gave Kitten’s name to the guys at the security desk downstairs so they could send her right up when she got here, but I appreciate the heads up. Knowing she’s this close has my impatience ramping up. I head to the door so I can greet her when she gets off the elevator.

I’m standing in my open doorway when the elevator dings and the doors slide apart, giving me my first view of her.

Kitten’s standing there, looking down, and I can see her chest rise as she takes a deep breath before smoothing down the front of her shirt. She went the same route as I did – dressed casually, but she looks fine as hell. I can’t help but give her a slow once-over, starting at her feet. A pair of black ankle boots. Tight grey jeans. Her shirt is black, and looks soft enough to touch. It’s not tight, but it’s clinging in all the right places with a low neckline that I’m already a fan of. Her tan jacket is hiding some of her body from me, but I know that I’m going to love the view from every angle.

She left her hair down, in glossy waves. Her pretty hair shouldn’t give me dirty thoughts, but it does. It really fucking does. I want to have my fingers running through it, gripping it, pulling it just enough to tip her head back so I can—

“Hi, Jackson.”

As my eyes snap to hers, I can’t help the smirk that pulls at my mouth. She just caught me daydreaming about her. And I’m not the least bit sorry.

“Kitten.” I extend my arm, gesturing for her to enter my condo. “Welcome back.”

As she walks past me, biting her lip, I get a whiff of her delicious scent. I don’t know if it’s something she wears, or just a combination of hair products and soap, or whatever it is that women lather themselves in. Either way, she smells divine. Like spring flowers and sex.

Stepping in behind her, I close the door and realize I missed my opportunity to get a hello hug. So I adapt.

Placing my hand on her back I ask, “Can I take your jacket?”

She flicks a glance over her shoulder at me before nodding. “Please.”

Stepping closer, I slide my hands over her shoulders, across her collarbones, and grab the lapels of her jacket. Slowly, I pull them aside, letting the backs of my fingers drag across the soft material of her shirt before sliding the coat down her arms.

Taking a woman’s coat off should not be this sexy. I feel like I’m a fourteen again, and a pretty girl just brushed against me in class. Walking her jacket over to the entryway closet, I take the moment to compose myself. No need to embarrass us both with my immediate lack of control.

Turning back, I replace her standing at the windows looking out at the city.

“It was so crowded when I was here before, I don’t think I even noticed your view. It’s stunning.”

Approaching, I make a noise of agreement as I try to focus on what she sees, not just looking at her reflection in the glass.

She leans closer to the glass. “Do you ever just stand here and watch the people down at street level? It’s like having your own little ant farm.”

The comment makes me smile. “It kinda is. I haven’t always lived in a big city, so I replace the bustle entertaining. I’m just glad to be up high enough that I don’t hear the traffic noise too much.”

“Hmmm. I can understand that.”

We stand in silence for a moment, both looking down at the world below us.

But I can’t help myself. I reach over and touch the back of her arm. “I’m really glad you came tonight. I was a little worried that my mama’s attempts at being 007 would’ve scared you off.”

Chuckling a little, she turns to face me. “I am so sorry about all of that. I can’t believe I didn’t realize who she was! And then I invited her along… Seriously, I’m sorry.” Katelyn shakes her head at herself.

“There isn’t a thing for you to be sorry about, Kitten. My mama is a wily one, and she would’ve found a way to tag-a-long with- or without an invite. I, of course, told her that she shouldn’t have tricked you like that. And she, of course, told me that it’s a mama’s job to pry.” I give her a crooked smile. “I definitely wasn’t upset with you, and – try as I might – I can never be upset with my mama.”

Kitten sighs. “She is kind of fantastic. And unapologetically in your face. She had me eating cotton candy within five minutes of meeting her. I don’t think I’ve had that stuff since I was in grade school.”

“That sounds like Mama. She’s good at being motherly, but she can also be a damn bulldozer.”

Looking at me with mischief, Kitten says, “I bet you have some good stories about getting in trouble when you were little.”

“That I do. But before you get me spilling all my childhood mess-ups, would you like a drink? I have the usual suspects. Oh, and are you okay with sushi?” Inwardly, I wince; I should’ve asked that the moment she arrived, since I already ordered it. “We can get something else if you’d like, it’s no trouble.”

“Sushi sounds great! I love it, but for whatever reason I never seem to eat it as often as I’d like.”

“If that’s the case, then you’re welcome. This will be your new favorite restaurant. One of the security guys downstairs has a cousin who owns the joint. He introduced it to me one night when I walked past his desk and caught sight of his dinner.”

“That’s quite the hard sell. It’d better live up to the expectation.”

The smile she gives me hits me deep. I am so screwed with this girl.

“I promise to live up to your expectations.” I give her a little wink and – to my undying enjoyment – she blushes. “I believe I offered you a drink?”

“Water is fine, thank you. I was debating about bringing a bottle of wine, but I wasn’t sure if you can drink during the season. I mean I know we were at a bar the other night, and that drink I took from Luke was definitely alcohol…”

Laughing I say, “Yeah, that was a pretty clever ploy you laid out with Luke. You’ll be happy to know it worked, even if I did almost punch that smug fucker.”

“What!” Kitten giggles and covers her mouth. “Why would you want to punch him?”

“He was saying shit about your ass.” I give her my steely glare.

“He doesn’t like my ass?” she asks like she’s confused.

Stepping closer to her I feel myself growl. Like a damn animal. “He was very complimentary.”

Kitten glances back behind herself, pretending to look at her ass. “Well, that was nice of him. Can you give me his number? I’d like to thank him personally.”

As I step closer, putting me in touching range, there’s a knock at the door.

Kitten laughs as I stride away, and I hear her mumble, “Saved by the bell.”

–

Standing side by side, we look down at the array of sushi and side dishes that I’ve spread across the kitchen table.

Giving me a little side-eye, Kitten says, “So is the rest of your team coming over for dinner?”

I can’t really blame her for questioning my sanity. This is a stupid amount of food for two people. “I may have gotten carried away.”

“May have?”

“Okay, I did. I most definitely got carried away. But everything is so good, and I wanted you to try all my favorites, and I didn’t know what you’d like. So, yeah . . .” I shrug.

I gesture to a seat at the end. The table is a large oval of heavy dark wood with seating for ten. Putting Kitten at the end means I can take the spot next to her without being like those strange people who sit side by side in a booth.

Taking my seat, I ask, “You sure you’re fine with just water? I have some wine, but unfortunately no sake.”

“Thanks, but I’m good with this. I honestly don’t drink too often, and between your mother and Meghan I could use a night of hydration.”

Using chopsticks, I start to put some of everything on our plates. “Meghan? Oh, and to answer your earlier question – I try to limit my alcohol during the season. When we have team outings like we did the other night most of us will have a drink or two, so long as there isn’t a game the next day. Like you said, hydration is important, so we can’t drink a bunch the night before a game.”

She nods. “That makes sense.”

I can’t help but stare as she works her chopsticks around a roll and brings it to her mouth. Some of these rolls are fairly large, and it’s a bit pornographic watching her open her mouth wide enough to take one in whole. Then she closes her eyes and releases a moan. A moan I feel low in my body.

Her eyes open, and I’m sure I look slack-jawed and lust-filled, because I am.

Katelyn brings her hand up to cover her full mouth. “This is so freaking good.”

Getting control of my face, I grin. “Told you.”

“You were right. I can see why you ordered an army’s worth.” Selecting the next one she wants to try, she answers my previous question. “Meghan is my best friend. We met in middle school, bonded over being book nerds, and have been besties ever since. She was at my place for brunch yesterday and brought some champagne with her. She’s a whirlwind, and I love her.”

Imagining how it might have played out, I ask, “Was she there when your gift arrived?”

“Oh, she was there all right. But I’d already laid out the whole embarrassing series of events, so – sorry to burst your bubble – but you didn’t get to out me.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Uh huh.” She moans around another bite of sushi.

“So, you were a book nerd even back then?”

I listen in rapt attention while Kitten tells me about how her love of stories started when she was a kid. She met Meghan in the library after school one day. They were both reading Goosebumps, and they decided to become best friends. Listening to her recount the story, and their subsequent friendship, I replace myself drawn into her world. Kitten has such a way with words, pulling me into her story so that I feel invested. I want to hear her talk about everything. Anything. All her thoughts are so lit up with emotion, it’s nearly exhausting just to witness.

She tells me she went to college for writing, and how she’s now a copy editor for a local book publisher. I gather that it might not be the road to riches, but she seems to be doing well for herself, and she loves it.

I like the idea of her working from home, curled up on the couch with her laptop. During the off season, I could stop over and distract her from work. Or just sit next to her, reading something of my own.

Whoa, buddy, way to jump ahead! This is our first actual date and I’m already planning out our afternoons 5 months from now. Somehow she’s turned me into a pussy-whipped glob of putty, and I haven’t even felt her lips on mine yet.

We’ve been steady in conversation, neither of us focusing on food, with the exception of Kitten’s intermittent moans when she tries something new. So we’ve hardly made a dent in the pile of sushi.

Kitten surprises me once again, telling me that she didn’t read about me online, that she’d rather learn about me in person. She admits that – the morning after we met – she Googled my name to learn what sport I played. It’s adorable how embarrassed she looks telling me this. But, apparently – after reading an article about me – she felt like a stalker, so she closed down the browser. I can’t even express how much I appreciate that. And honestly, I don’t care that she didn’t know who I was. I really like the idea that I’ll be the one who gets to teach her about hockey.

Kitten breaks into my thoughts, “Tell me about your sister. According to my flashcard, she’s quite beautiful.”

That makes me roll my eyes. “Yes, Stephanie is beautiful, and that’s been a thorn in my side since I hit puberty. She’s two years younger than me, and all of my friends liked to talk about how hot they thought she was. Then I’d have to punch them. Then I’d get in trouble with my mama, or get detention. And then the cycle would start all over again.” Kitten fights back a smile as I continue, “Steph was never a troublemaker, just the opposite. And as we got older, she became more and more of a busybody… getting involved in my life, trying to set me up with ‘a nice girl,’ or trying to decorate my apartments. I swear she becomes more like Mama every damn day.” I’m sure my exasperation is apparent in my tone. I love my sister. I do. But she can be a total pain in the ass. “How about you? You mentioned a brother. Do you guys get along?”

She scoffs. “Our situations are flipped on this one. My brother, Alex, is three years older than I am. And he’s a total pest. When we were little, he’d do his best to torture me with bugs and rigged faucets, and just pranks in general.”

“Pranks, like what?”

Katelyn leans back in her chair. “Like the time when I was ten and he poured water on my bed while I was sleeping, and then convinced me that I peed myself. I was mortified. I secretly washed my bedding that day because I was too embarrassed to tell my parents. It was years, literal years, before he told me he did that! Ugh. He is the worst. And now he’s a fourth grade teacher, if you can believe that. He’s actually great at it, but I’m pretty sure that’s because he stopped maturing when he was that age, so he relates well to his students.”

I can’t help but laugh. “I wonder if I could try that bed-wetting scheme on my sister now.”

Smacking my arm, Kitten scolds me, “Don’t you dare!”

I grin like a fool. The girl I like just touched me.

Katelyn’s expression freezes. “I didn’t even think about my brother.”

My brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, he’s a huge Sleet fan! I never really paid attention to his hockey rants, but I know he watches all the games. I’ve seen him wearing jerseys on several occasions. I think he has more than one. Oh god, what if he has your jersey! If he replaces out that we’re . . . well . . . you know . . .” Looking to me for help, she sees me grinning at her expense. Smacking my arm again, she says, “Oh shut up. When he replaces out that I know you, he’s going to hassle me nonstop until I introduce you guys. So, remember how you’re laughing now when he shows up on your doorstep with a tattoo of your face across his back.”

My grin has turned smug. “I can handle your brother, Kitten.”

There’s a knock at the front door.

The food is already here; I’m not expecting anyone. Damnit, when I told Henry he didn’t have to call up again, I was referring to the food delivery. I forget how literal he can be sometimes.

I push my chair back from the table. “Sorry for the interruption, I can’t imagine why someone is here. But while I’m up, I can refill our waters.”

“No, you get the door, I’ll top off the glasses.” Kitten stands at the same time.

Eager to get back to our conversation, I stride to the door and pull it open. And replace Luke standing in front of me.

When he goes to step past me to come inside, I put my hand up on the door frame, my other hand still holding the handle, well-aware this is probably the least subtle way to keep him out of my condo.

“Uh, hey, Jackson. Whatcha doin in there?” Luke says, craning his neck to try to see what I’m hiding.

“Luke. This is unexpected.”

“You know normal people would start with ‘Hello’ and ‘want to come inside?’ … I might have to give your mama a call to ask where she went wrong raising you.”

I’m not trying to hide Kitten from Luke for any reason other than wanting him to leave. “Sorry, but now is not a good time. Can we catch up tomorrow?”

“No-can-do, buddy. Coach is on his way over.” His smile turns into a grin. “Now.”

“Seriously? What the fuck?” I drop my hand from the frame, and Luke wastes no time pushing past me.

Spotting Kitten standing in the kitchen he stops in his tracks. “Katelyn! How nice to see you.” He slowly turns back to give me a raised eyebrow look of surprise.

She gives him a little wave. “Hi, Luke.”

“Did Jackson here give you back your twenty yet?” He laughs.

Kitten glances at me before replying. “That was payment for your services. I don’t want it back.”

I make a mental note to tuck the bill into one of her pockets sometime tonight. “This is a lovely little reunion and all, but – Luke – care to tell me why Coach is on his way over?”

“He called me and said he wanted us to go over some footage for the game against Winnipeg this week. He just said he’d meet me here. Seeing as you never do anything fun. With anyone. Ever.” He winks over at Kitten. “I didn’t think I’d need to give you a heads-up. I can call and try to get him to push it back to tomorrow morning.”

Kitten jumps into the conversation. “Don’t do that! Really Jackson, I can entertain myself while you guys do your thing. Or we can just continue this another night. I don’t want to interfere with your team work.”

Just when I think this girl can’t get any better, she talks about it like playing hockey is an actual job and not just me goofing around. It takes a lot of work to be on a professional team, but a lot of people view it as just showing up for games and having fun.

“Don’t leave. Please.” I walk up to Kitten and bring my hand to the side of her neck. “We won’t be long.”

“Less than an hour, for sure,” Luke chimes in.

“Okay,” her voice comes out as a whisper, and she’s looking at me in a way that has me tightening my grip on her. I want to close the distance between us. I want to press my lips to hers. I want to feel her melt into me. I want us to be alone. She breaks into my thoughts with a question. “Why is it only you two watching these videos with your coach?”

“Hmm?” My brain takes a second to reset. “Oh, Luke and I are the captains.”

Her eyes open wider in shock. “Really?”

“Geez, don’t sound so surprised,” Luke says. “I know he’s a knucklehead, but Jackson’s a decent hockey player.”

Speaking over my shoulder, I say to Luke, “You’re an idiot.” Releasing my grip on Kitten, I walk toward the hall. “I’ll get the office set up so we can get this started and over as quickly as possible.” Walking away, I hear another knock at the door. That must be Coach. “Luke, grab the door!” I shout before entering my office.

It only takes a couple of minutes to get everything ready, clearing off the guest chairs and powering up my computer and wall screen. I expected Luke to bring Coach straight back when he got here, but they must still be out there talking to Kitten.

This is the last fucking thing I wanted to happen tonight. I’ve been enjoying Katelyn’s company. I want to spend more time together, learning everything about her. Exhaling my frustration, I promise myself that I won’t let this derail our evening.

Walking back down the hallway, I call out, “Hey, what’s the hold up?”

Expecting to see Luke and Coach standing in the kitchen, it takes me a moment to orient myself to the new scene. Luke is sitting at the dining table with Kitten. And my sister. And my mama.

Stopping dead in my tracks, I scold myself for my previous thought. This. This is the last fucking thing I wanted to happen tonight.