Page 12 of My One & Goalie
“Rachel, remember to put the pizza in the fridge.” Xander motions to the cardboard box sitting on the kitchen counter.
“Oh, right. Thanks.”
In a bold move of aggression toward Charles—and lust, if I’m being honest—I stride across the room toward Xander.
Inching into his personal space, my body thrums with desire. I’m a livewire, buzzy with electricity, popping and sparking the closer I get to the man.
I lock eyes with him and drag my tongue across my bottom lip. Every nerve’s firing as Charles’s hot stare burns into my ass. Lifting up on tiptoe, I press my mouth to Xander’s ever so lightly.
He doesn’t let me down.
Gripping my hips with his giant hands, he kisses me back with a ferocity that literally takes my breath away.
And oh. My. Stars.
The hockey god knows how to kiss.
Ground trembling beneath my feet, the world spins wildly as Xander’s lips glide over mine.
“Ah-hem.” Charles clears his throat loudly, like the little drama queen he is. Pissed off that someone else is playing with the toy he discarded on the playground.
“Thanks for dinner,” I murmur, my palms patting at Xander’s spectacular pecs. He’s solid as a rock and I use his strength to pull me back down to earth.
He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear and the gesture’s so small, yet so intimate, leaving a trail of heat in the wake of his fingertips.
“You’re welcome. Your car should be repaired by tomorrow.”
“Wait—what? How?”
“I called the mechanic. He towed it to the garage. I’ll swing by in the morning and pick you up, take you over there myself.”
“I can Uber, it’s fine.”
“Shh.” He presses a thick finger to my lips. “I’ll be here around nine. Night, Rachel.”
Peering around my shoulder, Xander wiggles his fingers at Charles. “Have a great night.”
Then he lets himself out, with one last cheeky wink in my direction.
I could love that man.
“What the hell was that about, Rachel?” Charles’s angry voice cuts into my dreamy thoughts. “And why is some hockey coach hanging out with our son? And what’s wrong with your car? Didn’t you get it tuned up like you were supposed to?”
Normally, the barrage of questions would send me into a panicked spiral, a fun mix of anxiety and insecurity.
But not tonight.
No, tonight I’m buoyed by the endorphins I got from kissing the hockey god. I’m barely tethered to the ground at all. Jackass Charles isn’t going to ruin my night.
I spin around to face my ex.
“First, I don’t have to answer any of your damn questions. You forfeited the right to know every detail of my life when we signed the divorce papers.”
Rage flashes over Charles face, his fists balling at his side. “Wrong, Rachel. You do owe me an explanation when it comes to ourchild.” He draws the word out to at least four syllables, his tone condescending. Like he’s my fucking teacher or something.
“I’m his mother, Charles. I would never endanger ourchild.” I use the same long cadence, mocking him. My insides shake with fury, but I stand my ground. I’m sick to death of his attitude and demands, especially considering the divorce was his idea.
Best idea he’s ever had, honestly.