Kelly Jamieson - Breakaway

“Okay.”

He slowly walked back to his Jeep. It was the middle of the night. He didn’t want to leave her.

What was happening here? All he could think about was Remi, all he cared about was her and how she was feeling. He hated it that the paparazzi had scared her. It had never bothered him before, but suddenly it mattered to someone else and she mattered to him and…

He climbed into his vehicle and sat there for a moment. Christ. He had to stop thinking thoughts like that. He’d just broken up with one girl because she was getting too serious. He was in no way ready for a serious long-term relationship. Hence the breakup.

He was going to let loose and have fun in Boston like the single guy he was. Road trips were always good for some action.

* * *

This place was killing him.

They’d won their Sunday afternoon game against the Bruins. They’d been out for dinner to celebrate and now were hanging out in some glittery club not unlike Rouge, full of beautiful people in designer clothes. A bunch of girls had latched onto the hockey players, literally in some cases hanging off their arms, and Dominic and Matthieu and the others were lapping it all up. Oh yeah, they’d be getting lucky tonight.

Jason had politely extricated himself from the clutches of a gorgeous redhead and then a hot blonde, finding himself bored and distracted. He’d had a few beers and didn’t want any more. The throbbing music was giving him a headache.

The peace and quiet of his hotel room was calling to him. He wanted out. So he left, to the surprise of his teammates.

Back at the hotel, he sat on the bed with the remote for the television and channel surfed. Nothing appealed to him. He decided to play Nintendo for a while, but when he kept screwing up, he ditched that too. He tossed aside the controller and stretched out on the bed, hands behind his head.

Remi. He’d said he’d call her to tell her how the game went. He’d wanted to call her the minute he got off the ice, jubilant and triumphant, but had to deal with the television and newspaper reporters asking a million questions about heading into the playoffs with such a dismal record lately and the much-needed win and his hat trick. He was always polite and patient with the press. It was important for the team and for the league, so he always tried to give them his best, most thoughtful answers and take the time to chat with them.

He grabbed his cell phone and punched the button that was now Remi on speed dial. She answered right away.

“We won,” he said.

She laughed. “I know. I watched it on TV.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” He grinned and relaxed. “Feels pretty good.”

“I guess so. See, I told you you’d do it.”

“You did.”

Again they talked for nearly an hour.

“I wish you were here,” he said and then he couldn’t believe the words had popped out of his mouth.

“I wish you were here,” she replied in a sexy voice. Hell. They were about eight hundred miles too far apart.

“Wanna have phone sex?”

A pause. “I’ve never done that.”

“Get outta here. Really?”

Another pause, slightly frosty-feeling. “And you do it all the time?”

He laughed. “Of course not, I was just kidding.” Sort of. “Okay, get ready.”

“You’re not serious.”

“Serious as a missed penalty shot.”

She giggled.

“Come on, Miss I Just Wanna Have Fun. Let loose. What are you wearing?”

She laughed again at the cheesy question.

“Um …flannel pj pants and a long sleeved T-shirt.”

“Mmm. Sexy. Take them off.”

“Jase.”

“Right here.”

“I can’t do this.”

“Why not?” Ah, hell. “Don’t tell me your sister is back again.”

“No! No, I’m alone. I just…”

“Just do it.” He put a hand over his fly, testing his erection. Yup, hard as a goal post. “I’m gonna. I’m unzipping my pants right now.”

He heard her breathless noise as he did what he was telling her.

“Okay,” she said in a throaty voice. “I’m taking my top off.”

Jason groaned.

* * *

Remi sat in her living room Monday night, papers spread out around her as she marked social studies projects. But her mind kept wandering back to Jason.

Earlier, she’d done a little additional research. About Jason. Google brought up a treasure trove of information—personal information with oodles of photos of him, including sexy photos of him shirtless, advertising for a brand of hockey equipment and aftershave, and many, many photos of Jason and Brianne. Not to mention older photos of Jason and other women. Lots of other women. But he and Brianne had apparently been together for two years.

That was a long time. What had happened?

There were articles about his family—the new “first family” of hockey with three brothers in the NHL and the fourth brother a top draft pick although he now played for a farm team. He’d be in the NHL too, one day.

She also found lots of stats on goals and penalty minutes and things she didn’t understand and salary information and—holy crap! Jason made nearly six million dollars last year! She actually felt nauseous when she read that.

No wonder he thought women were after his money.

With a sick feeling in her stomach, she dropped her pen and leaned back into the couch. She wished she hadn’t found that out. She did not want to know how much money he made. If she didn’t know, he couldn’t think she was after his money like every other woman. Because she wasn’t. Hell, she wasn’t even after him. They were just playing around. Having fun.

She felt unreasonably annoyed, irritation like a persistent itch, at the things she’d discovered on Google. He was rich. Famous. Talented.

Except the last two days she’d actually missed him. Missed him with an aching intensity deep inside that scared the crap out of her. Because she wasn’t supposed to be getting emotionally involved. Especially with someone like Jason.

Her annoyance rose, now at herself for missing him when he so clearly out of her league.

God, if Darryl had thought she was boring, what on earth was Jason doing with her?

Besides having phone sex.

Oh, lord. She pressed a hand to her tummy. She’d done a few things lately with Jason that she never would have thought of doing before. What was happening to her?

Her doorbell startled her into a straight up position and she blinked, then got to her feet.

Jason stood on her doorstep.

Her heart expanded, softened, accelerated. She opened the door to him.

“Hi.” His smile crinkled his eyes and made her melt.

“Hi.”

And then they were in each other’s arms, kissing frantically. Her arms slid under his leather jacket, finding warm, male muscles beneath his cotton shirt. He hoisted her up against him, feet dangling, and kissed her until the room spun around her.

He lowered her to her feet and she clutched his arms to keep herself from falling. “Wow.”

“Yeah.” His eyes sparkled. “What are you doing?”

“Marking projects.” She led the way into her living room and grimaced at the sight of all the papers everywhere. “Uh…sorry about the mess.”

He shrugged. “No biggie. You saw my apartment.”

“Oh, yeah.” She grinned as she picked up papers and piled them on the table, remembering the chaos she’d only noticed as they’d been leaving his place.

Jason sat on the couch and she sat beside him, but he immediately picked her up and set her on his lap and kissed her again, long, deep, kisses.

Her skin tingled and her breasts swelled. She ached between her legs and pressed into him, until sanity intruded into her lust-fogged brain and she drew back.

“Jase.” She put a hand on his chest, feeling his heart thudding beneath her palm. “What are we doing here?”

“Making out.” He nuzzled her neck.

She pushed on his chest. He was like a frickin’ wall.

He lifted his head and gazed at her quizzically. “What?”

She shifted in his embrace. “I mean, what are we doing?”

“Fun. Remember?” He held her gaze, then his smile faded. “Aw, fuck.”

“Yeah. That’s kind of what I was thinking.”

They sat there, silence swelling around them, dense and tense.

“I missed you,” Jason finally said.

Remi bit her lip. She’d missed him too, so much, but she was vexed from all the stuff she’d found online about him and how this was supposed to be fun and how much fun it had not been, missing him like that.

“Remi.” Jason put his knuckles under her chin to lift it. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

She stared at him. Her body went stone-still and stone-cold. Her heart suspended beating. He did not just say that.

The look on his face—the hopeful, nervous anticipation—gave her a splintery feeling in her chest. And it pissed her off.

She shoved at his chest with both hands and scrambled off his lap.

“You are not!” she yelled. “Are you insane?” She stood there, hands on hips, glaring at him. “That is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.”

His eyes shuttered and the cracking feeling inside her intensified to the point of hurting.

“I think you should go,” she snapped. “We hardly know each other. This was supposed to be fun. If you can’t keep it fun, then let’s just forget it.”

He set his big hands on the couch cushions beside him and stared at her. She kept her frown firmly in place although the corners of her eyes were stinging. She blinked rapidly.