Sin Bin (Carolina Comets #4)

I almost kissed Smith.

It’s been two days and I can’t forget about it. I should have seen that coming though. It’s been two years since I slept with him, and I can’t forget that either.

My focus was shit as I tried to wrap everything up before the short Christmas break, and it sucked when Tori had to pull me out of my daydreaming more than once. I couldn’t help it though. All I could think about was how close I was to throwing away everything I’d been working so hard for.

He consumed me. That scent that’s all of him invaded every inch of me, and I didn’t even want to take my clothes off when I got home, afraid it had seeped into them and I was going to lose it somehow. I should have known better because even now, I swear I can still smell him.

Just like I can still clearly see the swirls of yellows and browns in his eyes as he peered down at me. He was giving me the same look he did two years ago when I was on my knees for him, a look I wouldn’t mind seeing again.

“Doing all right, Em?” Uncle Jared asks, brows drawn tightly together as he stares at me, face full of concern.

“Huh?” I shake my head, tossing away the thoughts I shouldn’t be having, especially not when I’m in my uncle’s home. I hope he doesn’t notice the red in my cheeks. “Sorry, yeah. I’m good. Just tired.”

“Tori working you hard, eh?” He laughs, rinsing off a dirty plate. “That woman is…intense.”

“Don’t I know it.”

He doesn’t even know half of it. I’m thankful for this short Christmas break not just because I get a break from Smith, but because I get a break from Tori and her watchful eyes.

“I heard she’s thinking of having you take over as director…” He peeks up at me, and I can clearly see the pride in his eyes. “That true?”

“It’s true. Well, me or Blake. Though Blake isn’t really interested.”

He nods. “Because of Nate and that adorable new baby of theirs. I understand that. The NHL is demanding, and it’s different when you have kiddos involved. Speaking of…”

He laughs when I groan.

“Come on, kid. You can’t hide behind your job forever. You have to get back out there sometime.”

My uncle thinks I’m still hung up on my ex. And I guess in a way, I am a little bit. I’m a lot more guarded and a lot less likely to give my trust away so easily, but that’s not the reason I’m single.

“I’m focusing on my career right now,” I tell him.

Which is the absolute honest truth. When I first got here, I was overwhelmed by everything that went into the social media aspect of an NHL team. It’s not an easy job by any means, and I knew I needed to prove I didn’t just get the job because of my uncle. I busted my ass, and I continue to bust my ass because I love doing this, being part of something bigger.

Am I lonely? Sure. Would it be nice to have someone to come home to at night? Of course, but I’m just not in a place for anything serious. I have too much on the line to let myself get distracted by dating.

My phone buzzes against the counter, and I reach for it, looking for any chance to get out of this conversation.

Harper: Don’t forget a small gift for the exchange, and please remember to bring your choice of booze!

Lowell: Please bring booze because I’m going to need it. I’m meeting Hollis’ mom tonight.

Harper: Oh, hush. She’s not that bad.

Miller: Wait…

Miller: We have to bring our OWN booze? But Wright makes more than all of us! Make him buy.

Rhodes: Nah. Lowell’s got him beat by half a mil.

Lowell: Damn right I do. Makin’ them big bucks, baby.

Miller: Going to need them for that kid you have on the way too.

Wright: Can we NOT talk about our AAV?? It’s Christmas and I don’t want to embarrass the rookie.

Miller: I AM NOT A ROOKIE!

Wright: Then stop acting like one, dipshit.

Harper: Stop the name-calling. It’s mean.

Wright: Yes, ma’am.

Miller: Getting kinky, huh?

Rhodes: It’s not mean if it’s true. The kid is a dipshit.

Ryan: Be nice, Adrian.

Miller: Oooooh, she first-named you. You hate your first name.

Ryan: He doesn’t ALWAYS hate his first name. *evil emoji*

Miller: He loves it during sex, doesn’t he??

Wright: Shut up, Miller.

Lowell: Shut up, Miller.

Rhodes: Shut the fuck up, Miller.

I laugh as the last three messages all roll in at the same time. Miller is a well-known shit disturber among the entire staff, so none of this surprises me at all.

“That your friends?” my uncle asks as he finishes loading the dishwasher.

“Yes. They’re mostly just yelling at Miller.”

“That kid.” He shakes his head. “He’s something else.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

“But an incredible player.” My uncle looks at me. “Don’t tell him I said that though. It’ll go straight to his head. We’re trying to keep him knocked down a peg or two.”

“My lips are sealed.”

“Good.” He winks. “Are you heading over to Wright’s house for dinner?”

I nod. “Yes. Ms. Kelly will be there. She’s meeting Lowell for the first time.”

“Still can’t believe that whole ordeal,” my uncle mumbles. Then he tips his head toward the door, grabbing a dishtowel and drying his hands. “Go have fun with them. No sense in you hanging around here with me all day. I’m probably just going to fall asleep on the recliner watching Home Alone or something.”

“Are you sure?” I ask, chewing on my lip.

“Of course, kiddo. Get out of here.”

“All right.” I hop down from the stool, then round the island and press a kiss to his cheek. “Merry Christmas, Uncle Jared.”

“Merry Christmas, Em. Tell Mrs. Kelly I said hi, and make sure none of my players break any rules. We have some games to win.”

He throws me a playful wink, and I try not to react to the fact that one of his players already has broken a rule…and it’s all my fault.

I take a deep breath as I pull into Harper and Collin’s neighborhood. On one hand, I’m excited about our little get-together tonight. We don’t all get to hang out outside of the rink during the season as much as I’d like.

But on the other hand…spending Christmas with Smith isn’t exactly what I had in mind. I know there is no way I’m going to be able to relax tonight knowing he’s here. I’m going to have to pretend I don’t want to kiss him, pretend I haven’t already kissed him.

I breathe a sigh of relief when I pull my little Toyota in behind Hollis’ BMW, grateful that Smith isn’t here yet.

Thank fuck.

Maybe he canceled? He doesn’t usually come to any social gatherings. Not really his scene, which is why I was so surprised when he said he’d be here. Maybe he’s bailing and I won’t have to endure several hours of pretending around all of our friends. Maybe—

Maybe I’m not that lucky because lights in my rearview mirror grab my attention, and I know it’s him.

Fuck.

I close my eyes and smack my head against the headrest a few times, trying to talk myself into just getting out and getting it all over with. You can do this, Emilia. Just pretend you don’t want to rip his clothes off. You got this. You can—

My thoughts are interrupted by knocking on my window. I don’t peel my eyes open because I know who it is.

It’s him. I can feel his stare.

“Open up, Emilia.”

I’m taken back to the nights we spent together with just three simple words, to when I was on my knees for him, his cock pressing against my lips.

“Open up, Emilia.”

I drop my jaw.

“Good girl.”

I shiver at the memory, wondering if he realizes the effect those words have on me.

He knocks again, and this time I do open my eyes and meet his dark stare that’s daring me to continue ignoring him.

I don’t.

I push open the door and he’s there, grabbing it and holding his hand out for me. I ignore the gesture, pulling myself from the car.

He doesn’t miss it.

“I’m surprised you came,” I say, alleviating the tension between us.

He shrugs, shoving a hand into his pocket and rocking back on his heels. “Didn’t have much else going on, so I figured why not. I used to do Christmas with Bessie and her family, but they’re all grown up and out of state, and since Bessie is gone, well…”

He trails off, and it makes me sad for him. Does that mean he’s been doing Christmas alone for years? Does that mean he does all holidays alone? I picture him eating takeout on his couch by himself with nobody else around, and there’s a dull ache in my chest for him.

“Don’t give me that look,” he says sharply.

“What look?” I ask innocently.

“Pity.” He shakes his head. “I don’t need it. Loner, remember?”

I lift my brow. “Alone, remember?”

His dark brows slam together, and he looks like he wants to say something but thinks better of it. “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

I know that’s not what he wanted to say, but I let him have it.

“You are. Bring anything good for the gift exchange?” I ask, trying to peek into the bag in his hand.

He tucks it behind his back, a hint of a smile ghosting his lips. “I’m not telling.”

“Oh, come on. It’ll be our little secret.”

The moment the words leave my lips, I realize my mistake. The air around us changes from playful to serious fast. He lifts his free hand, scrubbing at the scruff covering his face, then sighs.

“Emilia, I—”

“I bring Christmas cheer and Christmas beer!”

Miller’s sudden intrusion has us jumping apart. If he notices—which isn’t likely because it’s Miller—he doesn’t say anything.

Smith clears his throat, putting space between us as he slides his free hand into his back pocket.

“Hey, why the long faces? We’re here to get lit!”

Smith glares at him. “Do not go in there thinking you’re going to get drunk. Hollis and Harper’s mother is here.”

“Oh shit.” His brows rise. “She hot?”

“Miller!”

The guy in question holds his hands up as best he can with a six-pack of beer in each one. “What? It’s a genuine question!”

Smith steps toward him, pointing a finger at his face. “Do not hit on her, Miller. I mean it.”

“Well, if I can’t hit on her, who can I hit on?”

“Nobody! Put your dick away.”

Miller’s shoulders sink and he mutters something that sounds an awful lot like My dick is always away as he walks toward the house, but I know that can’t be right based on what I’ve heard about him.

Smith and I follow behind, keeping a respectable distance between the two of us. Miller tries to walk right in, but Smith smacks him across the backside of his head, so he presses the doorbell instead.

It doesn’t take long before Collin and Harper are pulling the door open, greeting us with smiles and hugs.

“Beer’s here!” Miller shouts, walking into the house.

Collin looks back at us. “Is it too late to uninvite him?”

“Unfortunately, it is. Just watch out for him near your mother-in-law. He’s on the prowl.”

“Well, hello, you,” Miller purrs, striding into the kitchen and beelining straight for Hollis and Harper’s mom. He bows dramatically, then grabs her hand, placing a kiss on the back of it. “Did my heart love till now?”

“Okay, Shakespeare.” Collin charges his way. “You’re done.”

“Anyone else wildly impressed that Collin knows Shakespeare?” Ryan comments as Miller takes off and Collin chases after him.

“I’m more impressed that Miller knows it,” her husband adds, slipping an arm around her waist and tugging her close.

“Either way, I’m flattered,” Evelyn, Hollis and Harper’s mother, says as she makes her way over to me and pulls me in for a hug. “So good to see you again, Emilia.”

I squeeze her tightly, loving the familiar warmth she brings me. Much like Smith’s, my childhood isn’t much to write home about. My father spent most of his time working and very little time caring about anything I did. My mother tried her best to make up for him but didn’t do much to hide the fact that the wine made her smile more than he ever could. If I wasn’t at my uncle’s, I was spending time at the Kelly household. Evelyn always had a way of making me feel special.

“Hey, Evelyn. You excited about being a grandmother?”

“Very much so. Just wish they’d let it spill what they’re having.” She looks pointedly at Lowell, who mimics zipping his lips. “So rude.” She rolls her eyes playfully, then looks at Smith. “I don’t think I’ve met your boyfriend yet.”

The squeak that leaves me is embarrassingly loud, and everyone in the room who knows who Smith is laughs.

“They aren’t dating, Mom. That’s Smith—he’s a teammate of Lowell’s,” Hollis tells her.

“Hmm…” Evelyn says, her watchful eyes bouncing between the two of us. I don’t know what it is she’s thinking right now, but based on the way she’s studying us so closely, I know I don’t like it. “Well, then, Mr. Smith…” She holds her hand out to grasp his. “Nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Kelly. I’ve heard wonderful things about you from Lowell.” He nods toward where Miller and Collin ran off to. “I’m going to go find my moronic teammate who I am very sorry about. He’s young. And dumb. Really, really dumb.”

Evelyn laughs, waving him off. “Please. He’s fine. It makes an old lady like me feel good.”

He grins at her, then disappears toward the pleas of help that are definitely coming from Miller.

The moment he’s out of earshot, she turns to me. “You two truly aren’t dating? Because that man is…wow.”

“I—no!” I laugh lightly, hoping it sounds convincing enough. “He’s just…a player.”

She hums again, and I still don’t like the reaction. “Interesting.”

And I really don’t like that one.

“Well, never mind,” she says, linking her arm in mine. “Come sit next to me. Lowell was just telling us all how he and Hollis met.”

Hollis groans, and we all laugh, knowing the story already. Lowell dives back in where he left off, and by the time he’s finished, dinner is ready.

We pile into the dining room, and I can’t help but laugh at how detailed Harper got with everything. Sitting on each plate is a little Santa-shaped name tag. I guess given her career that utilizes her insanely amazing artistic abilities, I’m not surprised she got all crafty with this.

I find my name and go to pull my chair out, but it’s already being done for me. I glance up to see Smith.

“For you,” he says quietly.

“Thank you,” I murmur back.

Then, even though his name isn’t on the card, he takes the seat next to me and reaches over to switch his and Miller’s Santa nameplates. When he turns back to me, I lift my brow at him.

“What?” he says innocently. “I saved you. You’re welcome.”

I sputter out a laugh because he’s not wrong.

Miller waltzes into the room and pulls his chair out next to Smith. He takes a seat, then turns to the big giant. Looking him square in the eyes, he says, “I just want you to know that if you try to hold my hand, I will let you.”

Smith just looks at him. “Duly noted.”

I tuck my lips together, trying not to laugh at the exchange, but it’s no use. A small sound escapes me and has Smith turning his heated stare my way, which makes me laugh harder.

“Don’t encourage him.”

Miller’s face pops around Smith’s head. “No, please. Encourage me. I like it.” He bounces his brows up and down.

If the look Smith gave him before was dark, this one is murderous.

I know then that it’s going to be a long night.