2

I honestly don’t understand how this is a conversation I still need to have. I’m not shy about my personal life.

No, that’s bullshit. Nobody knows shit about my personal life, except my teammates and family. But those hours in between games and passing out alone in my bed? I’m not shy about those hours. I’m photographed with different women every weekend. Girls know what they’re getting into with me. There’s even forums. Ones where they bitch about me treating them like a one-night stand all while hoping for a second ride on my stick.

But that’s what they are, all of them. One-night stands. They know that going into it yet consistently leave disappointed when that’s exactly how it plays out.

I stuff my phone in my pocket, returning my focus to the woman on my temporary bed. She’s fingering the silky red fabric in her hands, eyes on me.

“I ordered you an Uber,” I tell her. “He’ll be downstairs in five.”

Her jaw hangs, with surprise or the urge to argue, I’m not sure. All I know is I need her to get dressed so I can get her the hell out of here and have some peace and quiet before my head explodes.

“Look, Lauren—”

“Lacey.”

“Lacey, right, sorry. Look, Lacey, I had a great time with you tonight, but it’s over now. I travel way too much to maintain anything serious.”

“Is that the only reason, then?” She slips her hand in mine, letting me tug her from the bed. My gaze dips down her body because I’m not blind—she’s a fucking rocket, all long, bronzed limbs, a killer rack, and a tight little stomach. “Because you don’t have time with your hockey schedule?”

“Yes,” I lie. “I don’t have time.” I could make time, I suppose. If I was interested. But I’m not. I’m never interested.

“Oh.” At the very least, it seems to appease her. Maybe it makes her feel less self-conscious. I don’t know, and don’t particularly care. The only women I care about are my mom and sister. And Cara, I guess. “Well, can I get your number?”

Fuck no. “I don’t give out my number.”

Before she can reply, the door to my suite beeps twice and swings open.

“You still up, Beckett? Wanna grab a quick game before—aw, for fuck’s sake.” My teammate and best bud Emmett Brodie pauses at the edge of the bedroom, eyes bouncing between me and Laaa…Lacey. He holds a hand up, shielding himself from her. I guess he thinks Cara might castrate him if he even looks at another woman. In all fairness, she might. She’s one fierce chick. “This is why I room with Lockwood.”

Yeah, he’s been doing that for about a year now. Emmett and I used to room all the time before he met Cara. Occasionally, I convince him to do it again. But he and Lockwood are both in serious relationships, so I guess they don’t like to chance having random naked girls in their room while we’re on the road. I get that. I think. I mean, I don’t know a thing about relationships, serious or otherwise.

“She’s leaving,” I tell Emmett, peeking around his hand shield to look at Lacey. She’s still naked. She also doesn’t seem to give a shit Emmett is standing here. In fact, her gaze drags down his body and then back up.

That’s the thing. Girls—regular girls and girls who’ve been on the cover of Maxim—don’t give a shit who it is they sleep with so long as he’s on the roster and making millions. That’s why they’re called puck bunnies; they hop from one player to the next.

“Your ride’s here,” I say to Lacey. “Might wanna get dressed, sweetheart.”

“Well, I—”

“He’s got a girlfriend and I’m not interested.” Annoyance slices my tone and makes my jaw tick. I wanna play COD with my friend and pass out face-first in my pillow. She needs to go.

Lacey blinks up at me. Finally, she tugs her dress over her head, red silk draping perfectly over her narrow hips. Fuck, she’s hot. I may not remember her name when she walks out this door, but I will remember that.

“Can I give you my number? That way you can call next time you’re in town, or if you change your mind and want me to fly—”

“Sure,” I clip out, cutting her off, because please don’t finish that sentence. I gesture to the pad of hotel paper and pen sitting on the bedside table, because I’m sure as shit not letting her touch my phone. The last thing I need is a stage five clinger messaging me or my number floating around the internet. I don’t give it out to girls, ever. “Write it down.”

Emmett’s eyes widen, the corner of his mouth curving with a smirk as he moves past me, heading into the bathroom.

Lacey follows me to the door and I heave it open. She pauses there, looking up at me like a lost puppy. She can pout all she wants; I’m not fucking taking her home with me.

“Well, thanks…for tonight. Hopefully I’ll see you again.”

“Hopefully.” Unlikely.

Her smile is so bright I almost feel bad. But then she leans in to kiss me on the lips and I turn my head at the last moment. She gets my jaw.

“Bye, Lauren.” I flip the lock when the door slams.

“Lacey!” she screams out from the hallway.

Emmett strolls in, shaking with laughter. “You’re such an asshole, Carter.”

I follow him to the couch while he queues up the Xbox, sinking down on the opposite end as I adjust my junk. “They don’t get it. I’m not looking for a relationship.” I snag the half-empty box of Oreos off the coffee table and twist one apart, licking at the icing. “Why does every girl think they’re gonna find a boyfriend through a one-night stand?”

“So you’re shitting on their hopes and dreams at a happy life with a man who loves them?”

Hopes and dreams? What the fuck? “Cara’s turning you into a marshmallow. They can hope and dream all they want, just not with me.”

“Because you’ll never settle down?”

I lift a shoulder and let it fall. “I donno. Maybe, maybe not. Not any time soon.”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he tosses a controller into my lap. “One day, some girl is gonna walk into your life and flip your whole world upside down and you’re not gonna know what the fuck to do with yourself except drop to your knees and beg her to never leave.”

My head bobs as I throw another cookie in my mouth. “And that’ll be the day I settle down.”