Page 89 of In His Skates

“Aaron Jones wants me to star in his movie!”

His eyes widen and his mouth makes a perfect O. “That’s fantastic, Leigh.”

“I know. I can hardly process the news.”

He pulls me into a hug and kisses the top of my head. “You’re amazing. He’d be a fool not to want you in his movie.”

“Hellooo! I’m still here,” Bobbi complains.

“Sorry, Bobbi. I have to call Gene back.”

“Yes, you do that. I’m really happy you and Keanu were able to figure stuff out.”

I look at Keanu again, not able to contain the smile that blossoms on my face. “Yeah, me too.”

36 KEANU

We made it to the playoffs by the skin of our teeth. It was the most brutal regular season game I’ve ever played on home ice. Naturally, everyone on the team went out to celebrate, but not me. Leigh arrives tomorrow from New Zealand, where she spent the last four months shooting a movie, and I don’t want to be hungover.

Being apart from her all this time was fucking hard. I missed her more than she will ever know. If it weren’t for hockey keeping me busy and Simon’s support, I’d have gone insane. The tabloids didn’t help my case either. The assholes kept trying to insinuate there was something romantic happening between Leigh and her costar, and it pissed me off. Not that I was jealous—I trust Leigh completely—but I hate that the media is determined to paint her in a bad light.

I moved in with her as soon as we broke the curse, but I kept my apartment downtown for convenience since it’s closer to Merchant Arena. I also didn’t want to be in that big house without Leigh. I’d miss her even more.

But tonight, I head over there to prepare for her surprise. I ordered thousands of flowers, balloons, and her favorite treats, and it will all be waiting for her, plus me, naked with a bow tied around my dick. What can I say? I’m a romantic.

The outdoor lights are on when I arrive, but inside the house, it should be complete darkness. It isn’t. That’s odd. I don’t remember leaving any lights on. Maybe I did and forgot about it. It’s late, past one in the morning, but since there’s no one here, I’m noisy as fuck, dropping my duffel bag by the entrance without care and the keys in the ceramic bowl on the console.

I kick off my shoes and take off my jacket, leaving them scattered. It’s a bad habit that I’ve been trying to get rid of because Leigh hates my messy ways. But she’s not here, and I’m bone-tired. Tomorrow, I’ll put everything away.

I’m about to head over to the fridge to grab a drink when I hear a noise coming from the second floor. I turn and notice that there’s light coming from the master bedroom. Fuck. I know I didn’t leave those lights on. Walking softly, I grab one of my hockey sticks from the mount on the wall and head upstairs.

I don’t want to call the police until I’m certain there’s an intruder. There’s enough scrutiny about our lives already, and I don’t need to add to the mix unnecessarily.

The door is only partially open. Holding the hockey stick with one hand, I flatten my palm against the door and push it open slowly. From the hallway, I have a view of the bed, and the first thing I see is a pair of long legs wrapped in black stockings. My heart pounds in my chest.

I walk in slowly with hockey stick in hand. Leigh is reading in bed, wearing black lingerie and thick-rimmed glasses. Her luscious long hair is tied in a loose bun, making her look like a sexy librarian, and damn if I’m not suddenly filled with renewed energy.

She looks at me and smiles. “Hi, Key.”

“Are you really here, or am I imagining things?”

“Hmm… I don’t know. Why don’t you come closer and find out?”

I drop the hockey stick and reach her in a split second. “Babe, I’ve missed you so much.” I capture her face between my hands and kiss her hard, like a starved man.

She throws her arms around my neck, pulling me to her until she’s lying flat on the mattress and I’m covering her body with mine. I should have gotten rid of my clothes first, but it’s really hard to think when her tongue is so sweet and her moans go straight to my cock, making it as hard as a rock.

I pepper her jaw with open kisses while exploring her curves with my hands. “I thought you were coming back tomorrow.”

“I wanted to surprise you.” She grabs the edge of my shirt and pulls upward. “Aren’t you happy?”

I lean back and finish pulling the shirt off, lobbing it out of sight. “Do I look unhappy to you?”

She stares at my face first, drinking me in. Then her eyes drop to my chest, and she frowns before touching my ribs. “You got hurt.”

I glance down and see the bruised patch of skin. “It was a very physical game. Worth it, though. We’re in the playoffs.”

Her expression softens. “I know. I was watching it on the plane. It was a great game; you deserved to clinch the spot. Honestly, I didn’t expect to see you until tomorrow.”