Delayed Call
Page 25
Which made sense because he didn’t know much about Brie Soledad.
“Thank you guys so much. I appreciate it.”
Shea wrapped an arm around her, squeezing her shoulder. “You’re family. Anytime.”
“Thanks,” she said, smiling big, and Vaughn found himself looking away so he could breathe. Her smile took up her whole face, her eyes lighting up in an exquisite and breathtaking way. “Thank you, Jensen, and…uh…thank you, Vaughn.”
Jensen smiled as Vaughn laughed. “Don’t hurt yourself there, Soledad.”
Her eyes cut to Vaughn, and she eyed him, but he ignored her, saying good-bye to Shea and then going back to his apartment, shutting the door before falling onto the couch. Tricksie came up to cuddle with him.
“I don’t know why you can’t just get along with her.”
Looking over at Jensen as he moved through the kitchen, Vaughn shrugged. “She pisses me off.”
“She’s smart.”
“She’s got a mouth.”
“And she’s sexy.”
“She thinks she knows it all.”
“She’s funny too. I saw you trying not to laugh.”
“She said my wrister isn’t what it was, and basically that I suck.”
Jensen made a face. “No, she didn’t. She wouldn’t do that. She’s smart, she knows you’re shooting just to get it in. You’re not worried about how.”
Vaughn shrugged as he cuddled into his dog. He did know that. He knew she wasn’t being a bitch, she was trying to show off, and he could appreciate that. He liked that she wasn’t reading the teleprompter. But what bothered him was that she’d noticed, and he wasn’t sure if she noticed because she observed what he did and cared, or if it was because she hated him and wanted to watch him fail.
Which shouldn’t matter because he hated her.
More than she hated him.
And that was final.
But then, why did he feel this way?
Leaning on the boards, Vaughn watched the puck as the Assassins carried it into the Blackhawks’ zone. The Assassins were up by one but the Hawks were fighting, and they weren’t the kind of team one assumed would roll over and die because they were down. Nope, they fought until they scored and then won, which was why the Assassins were fighting back just as hard. Plus, in hockey, the score could change at any time. No one was safe. They wanted to keep the lead, and if they wanted to win, Vaughn would feel a hell of a lot better if they scored again.
Gasping for breath, he watched as Thomas, Titov, Anderson, and King peppered shots at the goal. Brooks and a Hawk were in the box for roughing, but even being one man short, both teams were rushing the net like they had all five men. Monroe was basically standing on his head and blocking anything that went by. He was such a damn good goalie, way too talented for some backwoods pretty-boy lumberjack, but man, Vaughn was glad Jensen was on his team. While he cheered for his best friend, he did feel like shit for Tate. He was a great goalie, but something was off, and now it was Monroe’s time to shine. Though, Vaughn didn’t think Tate was okay with that.
And that worried Vaughn. He didn’t want Tate to lose his spot, but he wanted Jenny to succeed. He was happier, or at least, as happy as he could be. Vaughn wasn’t sure half the time, but Jenny was better off than he was in Minnesota, that he knew. If only he’d get his head out of his ass and stop obsessing over Wren and maybe ask her out, things would be so much easier. He was honestly getting on Vaughn’s nerves with all that shit. He used Vaughn to call her, to make sure she was okay, and it was annoying as shit. Wren was his friend and he didn’t mind checking in on her, but it killed him when Jensen would get mad because he didn’t ask a certain question. Or rather, the questions that Jensen wanted asked.
When Jensen found out that Wren wasn’t going home to Colorado for Christmas, he was livid because she didn’t want to go over to Gramps and Grams’s to spend it with them. But that was Wren. Vaughn had been living in Nashville for three years, and she had been there for two, and he only saw her at their therapy sessions. Or when they got together with family. She was a private gal, and Vaughn wasn’t worried about it. If she wanted to stay home, let her, but apparently, Jensen didn’t like that and was making him go over to spend some time with her. Though, he was sure she’d kick them out or not even answer the door.
But that was an issue to deal with in a few days. Right now, Vaughn wanted a goal. He wanted it so bad he could taste it. He wanted to shut everyone up. He wanted to prove to himself that he still had it. That he was fucking badass. Above all, he wanted to make Brie Soledad eat her fucking words.
Man, she got under his skin.
Their whole interaction the previous day was still playing over and over like a rerun in his head. He could see the little gleam in her eyes with her quick comebacks and her lips pursing when he said something that irritated the fuck out of her. Then the way she was dressed? Who would think a funny shirt would turn him on so much? Or maybe it was what was underneath it? He knew she was wearing a bra, her breasts all perky and sexy, but the way her jeans hugged her thighs… Damn, he was getting hard just thinking about it.
And getting hard in a cup was very uncomfortable.
Shifting on the bench, he shook his head. He had to stop thinking about her. She wasn’t even on his damn radar. She was nothing to him but a pain in his ass. Someone he had to deal with a lot, so he might as well get used to her. But that was hard when all he wanted to do was bury his dick so deep inside her, it would make her regret every word of malice she had uttered against his cock.
And why was her skirt so damn tight?
Leaning back on the bench, he saw her in the tunnel, watching the game as she held her mic. She was getting ready for a bench interview, but all he could do was stare at the little patch of skin she was showing between the bottom of her long-sleeved blouse and the top of her skirt. He swore he saw a tattoo on her ribs, but he wasn’t staring…
…that hard.
Unlike yesterday, she looked like a billion fucking bucks. Her hair was in wavy curls, coming to the bottom of her chin as her makeup was done dark and smoky. She looked like a whole different girl. Especially in the heels that made her legs look sexier than the game was long. Jesus, how was he supposed to pay attention when she was leaning over like that, her breasts nearly coming out the V of her blouse? Shaking his head, he looked out at the ice and drew in a breath through his nose.
“Thank you guys so much. I appreciate it.”
Shea wrapped an arm around her, squeezing her shoulder. “You’re family. Anytime.”
“Thanks,” she said, smiling big, and Vaughn found himself looking away so he could breathe. Her smile took up her whole face, her eyes lighting up in an exquisite and breathtaking way. “Thank you, Jensen, and…uh…thank you, Vaughn.”
Jensen smiled as Vaughn laughed. “Don’t hurt yourself there, Soledad.”
Her eyes cut to Vaughn, and she eyed him, but he ignored her, saying good-bye to Shea and then going back to his apartment, shutting the door before falling onto the couch. Tricksie came up to cuddle with him.
“I don’t know why you can’t just get along with her.”
Looking over at Jensen as he moved through the kitchen, Vaughn shrugged. “She pisses me off.”
“She’s smart.”
“She’s got a mouth.”
“And she’s sexy.”
“She thinks she knows it all.”
“She’s funny too. I saw you trying not to laugh.”
“She said my wrister isn’t what it was, and basically that I suck.”
Jensen made a face. “No, she didn’t. She wouldn’t do that. She’s smart, she knows you’re shooting just to get it in. You’re not worried about how.”
Vaughn shrugged as he cuddled into his dog. He did know that. He knew she wasn’t being a bitch, she was trying to show off, and he could appreciate that. He liked that she wasn’t reading the teleprompter. But what bothered him was that she’d noticed, and he wasn’t sure if she noticed because she observed what he did and cared, or if it was because she hated him and wanted to watch him fail.
Which shouldn’t matter because he hated her.
More than she hated him.
And that was final.
But then, why did he feel this way?
Leaning on the boards, Vaughn watched the puck as the Assassins carried it into the Blackhawks’ zone. The Assassins were up by one but the Hawks were fighting, and they weren’t the kind of team one assumed would roll over and die because they were down. Nope, they fought until they scored and then won, which was why the Assassins were fighting back just as hard. Plus, in hockey, the score could change at any time. No one was safe. They wanted to keep the lead, and if they wanted to win, Vaughn would feel a hell of a lot better if they scored again.
Gasping for breath, he watched as Thomas, Titov, Anderson, and King peppered shots at the goal. Brooks and a Hawk were in the box for roughing, but even being one man short, both teams were rushing the net like they had all five men. Monroe was basically standing on his head and blocking anything that went by. He was such a damn good goalie, way too talented for some backwoods pretty-boy lumberjack, but man, Vaughn was glad Jensen was on his team. While he cheered for his best friend, he did feel like shit for Tate. He was a great goalie, but something was off, and now it was Monroe’s time to shine. Though, Vaughn didn’t think Tate was okay with that.
And that worried Vaughn. He didn’t want Tate to lose his spot, but he wanted Jenny to succeed. He was happier, or at least, as happy as he could be. Vaughn wasn’t sure half the time, but Jenny was better off than he was in Minnesota, that he knew. If only he’d get his head out of his ass and stop obsessing over Wren and maybe ask her out, things would be so much easier. He was honestly getting on Vaughn’s nerves with all that shit. He used Vaughn to call her, to make sure she was okay, and it was annoying as shit. Wren was his friend and he didn’t mind checking in on her, but it killed him when Jensen would get mad because he didn’t ask a certain question. Or rather, the questions that Jensen wanted asked.
When Jensen found out that Wren wasn’t going home to Colorado for Christmas, he was livid because she didn’t want to go over to Gramps and Grams’s to spend it with them. But that was Wren. Vaughn had been living in Nashville for three years, and she had been there for two, and he only saw her at their therapy sessions. Or when they got together with family. She was a private gal, and Vaughn wasn’t worried about it. If she wanted to stay home, let her, but apparently, Jensen didn’t like that and was making him go over to spend some time with her. Though, he was sure she’d kick them out or not even answer the door.
But that was an issue to deal with in a few days. Right now, Vaughn wanted a goal. He wanted it so bad he could taste it. He wanted to shut everyone up. He wanted to prove to himself that he still had it. That he was fucking badass. Above all, he wanted to make Brie Soledad eat her fucking words.
Man, she got under his skin.
Their whole interaction the previous day was still playing over and over like a rerun in his head. He could see the little gleam in her eyes with her quick comebacks and her lips pursing when he said something that irritated the fuck out of her. Then the way she was dressed? Who would think a funny shirt would turn him on so much? Or maybe it was what was underneath it? He knew she was wearing a bra, her breasts all perky and sexy, but the way her jeans hugged her thighs… Damn, he was getting hard just thinking about it.
And getting hard in a cup was very uncomfortable.
Shifting on the bench, he shook his head. He had to stop thinking about her. She wasn’t even on his damn radar. She was nothing to him but a pain in his ass. Someone he had to deal with a lot, so he might as well get used to her. But that was hard when all he wanted to do was bury his dick so deep inside her, it would make her regret every word of malice she had uttered against his cock.
And why was her skirt so damn tight?
Leaning back on the bench, he saw her in the tunnel, watching the game as she held her mic. She was getting ready for a bench interview, but all he could do was stare at the little patch of skin she was showing between the bottom of her long-sleeved blouse and the top of her skirt. He swore he saw a tattoo on her ribs, but he wasn’t staring…
…that hard.
Unlike yesterday, she looked like a billion fucking bucks. Her hair was in wavy curls, coming to the bottom of her chin as her makeup was done dark and smoky. She looked like a whole different girl. Especially in the heels that made her legs look sexier than the game was long. Jesus, how was he supposed to pay attention when she was leaning over like that, her breasts nearly coming out the V of her blouse? Shaking his head, he looked out at the ice and drew in a breath through his nose.
