Unravel Me (Playing For Keeps Book 3)

“Welcome, everyone, to the first official meeting of ‘Adam’s Road to Hope: One Man’s Journey to Pussy Palace.’ Don’t forget to pick up a gift basket and get your time cards punched on the way out. Sangria is in the fridge, snacks are on the table, and pizza will be here in thirty.” Cara slings one leg over the other, clasps her hands together under her chin, and smiles. “Class is now in session.”

“Cara, for fuck’s sake.” I bury my face behind one hand before throwing both arms out wide. “Can we stop calling it that?”

“Class? I guess, if you want to be picky.”

“No, not class. Journey to Pussy Pal…ugh, forget it.” I sink into the couch cushions, pinning my arms over my chest and toeing at the coffee table. “Don’t even know if I want a girlfriend if she’ll be anything like you,” I grumble.

“Oh, sweetie.” She pats my hand. “You couldn’t handle me.”

“And why is Hank here?” I gesture at our old friend. “No offense, Hank. I love you, but you just feel a bit out of place at this…this…”

“At Adam’s Road to Hope: One Man’s Journey to Pussy Palace,” Cara finishes for me. “Can you believe it, Hank? Adam thinks you’re too old to be here.”

“I didn’t say that! It’s just, you know…you’re eighty-six years old.”

He grins, stroking both Bear and Dublin’s heads from where they rest in his lap. Dublin used to be his guide dog, but when he moved into a nursing home a year ago, Dublin went to live with Carter and Olivia. Hank gets all the pup snuggles from these two when he’s around.

“I’ve been told I’m quite the ladies’ man, Mr. Lockwood, even in my old age. And something about sage wisdom, blah, blah, blah.” He waves his own words off. “Why you people continue to listen to the words that come out of my mouth is beyond me, but if you need help getting women—”

“I don’t need help getting—okay, I need a little help, but I really don’t think it’s—fine, I have no idea what I’m doing.” I snatch the bowl of All Dressed chips off the table, hugging it as I toss a handful in my mouth. “Gonna die a-wone n’ wif a se-wious case ub—” I swallow “—arthritis in my wrist.”

Olivia pats my thigh. “That’s not true, Adam.”

“Yeah, Adam.” Jennie snickers. “They have toys for that so you don’t have to do any of the work yourself. You don’t have to doom yourself to a life of arthritis.”

I roll my eyes and toss a pillow at her and Cara when they high-five. I always knew Jennie had a mouth like her brother’s, but it’s been nice seeing her really come into herself since she and Garrett have been together.

“Okay.” Cara pulls out a clipboard and a pen, then slips on a pair of glasses, which she promptly slides down her nose so she can stare at me over the rim of them. “Tell us about our leading lady.”

I smash another handful of chips and frown when Olivia takes the bowl away. “Her name is Rosie.”

“Rosie!” Cara scrawls it on the paper, adds my name and a plus sign, then surrounds it with a heart. “So cute. Love it. Tell us everything.”

“Well, I met her last weekend when I was hiking with Bear. He knocked her over. She was walking a dog from the shelter she volunteers at. And she shared her sandwich with me. And she wants to be a vet. And I went back to the shelter this morning because Jaxon said I should go, and I accidentally insinuated that I liked eating her out, but I was talking about her sandwiches, and then it turns out she made two extra sandwiches for me just in case she saw me again. She’s so kind and thoughtful, and she’s really patient and sweet with the dogs. And she’s got these tiny, gold freckles on her nose, and sometimes she snorts when she laughs, and she’s got, like, honey-colored hair, but the ends are all pink, and it hangs above her shoulders, and she makes me smile a lot, and she’s just really…” I trail off as the silence around me sinks in. Four pairs of eyes watch, waiting, smiling. I swallow. “Cute.”

Olivia squeezes my hand. “She sounds so wonderful already, Adam.”

“Pink hair,” Cara murmurs.

“I want pink fucking hair,” Jennie adds.

“Sounds like you guys had a connection,” Hank pipes up. “So what do you need help with?”

“This just feels…different. I don’t want to treat this date like every other date. We might actually have a chance at something here. I want to make sure I do it right.”

“So where are you taking her on Wednesday?” Cara holds up her clipboard and grins. She’s drawn a picture of Rosie based off my description. It’s surprisingly accurate, except she has sticks for limbs. “Nailed it.”

“I’m not sure yet. Somewhere private would be nice, without the pressure.”

“What about a picnic dinner?” Jennie suggests. “That could be nice.”

“And it’ll just be the two of you, so you don’t have to worry about photographers, or people asking for signatures,” Olivia adds. “That can be really overwhelming at first. You hockey men attract attention everywhere you go.”

I nod, but a sick feeling creeps into my stomach. “There’s just, like, one super small issue.” I hold up my thumb and forefinger, peeking between the tiny gap. “Teeny tiny, really. Rosie, um…she doesn’t watch hockey.”

Jennie shrugs. “Not a big deal. We can teach her.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s…” I shake my curls out. Scratch my throat. Clap a fist into my opposite hand as I jump to my feet and walk three steps to the right, then spin, shove a hand through my hair, and point at nothing. “Yeah, that’s not what I meant. I mean, she, uh…she doesn’t know who I am.”

Jennie’s brows jump. Olivia’s jaw drops. Hank runs a hand over his mouth while letting out a long exhale. Cara grins, chuckles in a bit of an evil way, and starts writing on her clipboard.

“Hidden…identity…” She underlines it three times. “I love this trope.”

Olivia shakes her head. “Okay, let’s back up. When you say she doesn’t know who you are…?”

“I told her my full name and she simply gave me hers back. She thinks I’m a regular guy.”

“Well, you are a regular guy,” Jennie argues.

Cara nods. “A regular guy who brings in over fifteen mill a year between his contract as one of the best goalies in the NHL and all his brand sponsorships. Just a totally regular, blue-collar guy.” Her blue eyes stay on mine, the corner of her mouth lifted in a smirk as she adds one more painfully slow line beneath the words hidden identity .

I scrub my hands over my face and groan, flopping back onto the couch. “I fucked up. We haven’t even had our date yet and I fucked up.”

“That’s not true,” Olivia insists. “Has your job come up organically in conversation?”

I shake my head.

“Then you haven’t done anything wrong. You can tell her on Wednesday.”

I sit on her words for a few moments, contemplating everything that could go wrong rather than everything that could go right. Maybe I am a worst-case scenario expert, just like Rosie.

“I’m scared,” I finally admit. “I know it’s early, but something feels so different with her. It feels natural and easy and I’ve got fucking…” I throw my arm out and sigh, hating that I’m about to say this word. “Butterflies. When I’m with her, when I think of her…Everything feels new and exciting and hopeful. But what if I’m wrong about this?”

“You’ve spent two days with her, just being able to be yourself, without everything that comes with being a big NHL hotshot. Sure, it doesn’t seem like much, but without all that pressure, neither of you has any reason to be someone you’re not. Does Rosie seem like the type to be dishonest about who she is?”

“No,” I answer without hesitation. “She’s given me no reason to think she’s being someone she’s not. It’s just…”

“That’s what you know,” Jennie says, nodding. “I get it, Adam. You’re used to dating people who give you one side at first, to get your time and attention, and once they have it, they show you the real them.” She shakes her head, a sad look in her eyes. “It’s deceitful, and when all you’re looking for is a genuine connection, a person in your corner, it’s just…sad.”

My heart aches for Jennie, the shit she’s been through. She spent too many years being wanted for the wrong reasons too. It’s where she and I are similar, and I feel a little less alone.

But I want to be where she is now, on the other side of it. Did she feel this lonely while she waited? Did she feel like she didn’t even know herself? Because I feel like I’m losing pieces of myself along the way, and I hate it.

“There’s no rush,” Cara chimes in, gaze holding all the softness that lingers beneath the sarcasm and badassery. “Meet her where she’s at, let her do the same with you, and enjoy every moment of getting to know each other along the way.” She quirks a brow and tilts her head. “And if she turns out like all the others, or worse—” she gags “—she-who-must-not-be-named , then we get ten cartons of eggs and a Costco pack of toilet paper, and we go to her house in the middle of the night, and we—”

“No.”

“But we—”

“I’m twenty-six! I’m not TP-ing someone’s house, Care!”

Cara pouts, slumping in her seat. “Baby.” She flips to the next page on her clipboard. “Okay, we’ve settled on a picnic dinner, and telling her you’re rich and famous. Now let’s go over the important stuff.”

“That feels like the important stuff.”

She rolls her eyes. “No, Adam, the important stuff is what you’re going to wear, what you’re going to feed her, alcohol or no alcohol, sex or no sex, chocolate cake for dessert or—”

“Sex?” Heat rushes to my ears and I shake my head. “No sex. It’s a first date. I’m not even going to kiss her!” I look to Jennie and Olivia. “Right? No kiss? Yeah, you don’t kiss on a first date.” I sit back in my seat, relieved when Hank nods in agreement. “Yeah, that’d be moving way too fast. No kiss.” I sit forward. “Or wait. Does it send the wrong message if I don’t kiss her? Will she think I don’t like her? And if I do kiss her, long or quick? With or without tongue? Do I let my hands wander, or do I—” I look down at my clammy hands, wiping them on my shorts before throwing them in the air, giving a little wave “—keep my hands in the air where she can see them, so she knows there won’t be any funny business?”

The basement is silent for a full ten seconds.

Hank clears his throat. “I’ve never wished I could see more in my life than I do right now.”

The girls break out in howling laughter, and even I crack a smile, forcing myself back to the couch.

“I’m just so nervous. I’m never like this before a date.”

“Well, maybe that means something,” Hank says. “For this Rosie to take such a solid, confident guy like you and turn him into a rambling mess…maybe meeting her was fate. And I know you’ve lost some of that confidence when things ended with your last girlfriend, but maybe Rosie will help you get back there. All the best people help us find ourselves when we’re feeling lost.”

I cock my head. “I get it now.”

“Get what?”

“Why they invited you to girls’ night. I don’t even need them, just you.”

“Hey !” Olivia gestures upstairs. “I brought the cute baby you love so much!”

Cara holds a tablet up. “Ollie also brought this.”

I frown. “A tablet?”

“Oh, you sweet fool,” she murmurs, tapping around on the screen. “Basement Speakers will connect me to your surround sound system, right?”

“Yes…”

“Great.” She sets the tablet down as my speakers ping, letting me know a device has been connected. Her smile is extra scary, and unease slithers down my spine.

“What are we—”

“Chapter Twelve. Isabella. My back hits the wall in the dark hallway with a thud, and I gasp at the feel of Grant’s rock-hard erection pressing against my lower stomach. He’s hot, heavy, and big—so damn big I whimper his name when he hikes my leg up, winding it around his waist, thrusting against me. ‘I like when you whimper my name, but you’re going to be screaming it by the time I’m through with you,’ Grant growls. ”

“What the fuck?” I cry out, flinging my arms wide. “What is this?”

“It’s an audiobook,” Cara says simply, checking her nails. “You read, Adam.”

“I read self-help books! Sometimes I read fantasy! I loved Harry Potter when I was a kid—sue me! I-I-I…I don’t read this!”

“You’re not judging Ollie and Hank’s taste in books, are you, Mr. Lockwood?”

Hank waggles his brows. “This was my pick for our book club read last week.”

“It was so good,” Olivia adds, breathless. She fans her face. “Grant is so swoon-worthy.”

“Can confirm.” Jennie peels back the wrapper on a pack of Dunkaroos. “It was mine and Mom’s initiation into the club last week, and it did not disappoint.” She swipes a tiny cookie through some frosting, then pops it in her mouth. “Think of it as research, Adam. You’re losing it over whether to kiss her, and this will help you figure it out. Those first few dates are all about reading each other’s cues and body language.”

“Sometimes you save that first kiss for date two or three,” Olivia adds.

“And sometimes you let the arrogant hockey captain who you swore you’d never touch take you upstairs and plow you right into the next year on his California king,” Cara counters, winking at Olivia.

“He told me Oprah owned the same mattress! How was I supposed to say no?”

“It’s pretty easy,” Jennie says. “No . See? Easy. Try it out with me, pip-squeak. No, Carter, I will not have sex with you. ”

Olivia jabs a finger at me. “This is supposed to be about Adam not knowing how to date, not me being weak and horny!”

“Hey!” I push her threatening finger away. “I was happy for you two when you kissed on New Year’s!” I throw my arms in the air when I realize the couple in the audiobook is naked. “Great, where did their clothes go?”

“They lost them when you all were bickering,” Hank replies.

Isabella and Grant become nothing more than searing kisses, punishing touches, tortured moans that barrel out of my sound system, ensuring the memory will forever be burned into my ears, and when she takes his “thick, throbbing length” in her hand, I drop my head and groan.

“Is this necessary? It’s like I’m listening to porn with my best friends’ wives. You guys are like my sisters. I feel—”

Olivia presses her hand to my mouth. “Shhh. It’s about to get good.”

“He presses two fingers inside my soaking pussy and circles my clit slowly as his mouth moves over my neck. ”

“Jesus Christ. I can’t.” I jump to my feet and rake my fingers down my face. “I can’t do it. Somebody turn it off.” I point at Cara, who’s typing away on her phone. “What are you doing?”

“Just texting Emmett about something I want him to try tonight.”

“Cara—”

“‘Is this how you like to be fucked?’ he asks. ‘Slow and gentle?’ He thrusts his thick fingers harder, faster, and my knees buckle as I clutch his shoulders. ‘Or hard and rough, like this?’ ”

“Ah !” A bloodcurdling shriek sounds from behind me. I look over my shoulder, finding my friends at the bottom of my stairs.

Carter claps his hands over Ireland’s ears, from where she’s clinging to Garrett. “Cover your ears, princess !”

“Take her, take her!” Garrett shouts, shoving Ireland into Carter’s arms.

Jaxon’s hands are glued to his cheeks. “What the fuck are you doing , Adam?” he screams.

Emmett winks at Cara. “Got your text, babe.”

I stomp up the stairs as fast as my legs will take me. “I’m fucking out of here.”

By some miracle, I make it to Wednesday.

I make it through unnecessary toy recommendations from Jennie.

I make it through snippets of helpful scenes from audiobooks sent by Olivia.

By the glory of God or whoever the fuck put me on this earth, I even make it through a shopping trip with Cara for a date-night outfit.

Now I just need to get through this date with my favorite five-year-old first.

“You’re doing it wrong,” the small voice beside me whispers.

“Shit,” I mutter as the tiny pink elastic I’m trying to loop around a hook snaps, ricocheting through the air. My gaze shifts to Lily, and I cringe. “I mean, crap. Poop. Pooh? Ahhh.” I rub a hand across my mouth. “Darn it.”

Lily snickers, taking the tiny loom needle from my hands. She hooks another bright elastic on the loom and starts effortlessly working it with the needle. “See? It’s like this.”

I look down at my hands. “My hands are too big. They’re ogre hands.”

She shakes her head, hiding her smile as she keeps working. “I don’t think so. Ogres are scary.” Big brown eyes lift to mine. “You’re not that scary.”

Four simple words shouldn’t make my heart beat a little faster, but they do. I’ve been volunteering at Second Chance Home for a few years now, spending time with the kids that walk through the door, in need of some extra love, the same way I was, way back when I was Lily’s age. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FindNøvᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Lily arrived at the home four months ago. She used to cry when she saw me, and as much as it broke my heart, I gave her the space she needed. Being in the off-season and one of only two single friends in our group means I’ve been spending a lot of time here recently. Maybe she got used to me being around, because a month ago, Lily sat down at the end of the couch I was sitting on and stared at the cover of the book she’d brought with her. I asked her if I could read it to her, and she stared at me for a whole minute before slowly sliding closer, pushing the book between us. Wherever You Are My Love Will Find You, by Nancy Tillman. Now we read it at every visit.

Progress is progress, no matter how slow.

I hope that’s how she feels about teaching me how to make Rainbow Loom bracelets, because this shit has been a two-week affair, and it’s not going well. I understand the process, I just can’t get my giant fingers to work on something so tiny.

Lily hands me back the needle and tucks her chestnut hair behind her ear. “Here. Now you try again, but go slow.”

“Slow. Got it.”

We work on our bracelets side by side without a word. I don’t mind the silence with her. Every quiet inch she’s given me has always been more than enough.

I look up as a door opens and a little boy comes tearing out of it, heading for the blocks on the floor. Emily, a good friend of Garrett and Jennie’s and their old neighbor, steps out of the room behind him. She shifts a pair of dark-framed glasses up her nose and smiles when she sees me.

“Is today the day Mr. Lockwood finally finishes his first Rainbow Loom?” She crouches down and nudges Lily. “About time, am I right?”

Lily giggles. “He’s still learning, but he’s doing great.” She sets her tools down and wraps her arms around Emily’s waist, squeezing. “Hi, Miss Emily. Are we gonna talk today?”

“We absolutely are, honey. I have time for you right now, but if you’re busy with Adam—”

“No!” She grabs a clasp and starts hooking it into the elastic. “I’m done!”

“Aw, man,” I whine. “Mine’s too short still.”

Lily leans over, examining the length of my bracelet. She looks down at hers and chews her lip. Then she hands me a clasp. “Do you remember how to finish it?”

“I think so.” I attach the tiny clasp the same way I’ve seen Lily do it a hundred times, then pull my tiny bracelet off the loom and frown. “It’s way too small.”

Lily takes the bracelet from me and slips it on her wrist, then gently takes my hand in hers and slips her bracelet on my wrist. “I’m a little faster, so mine is longer. We can swap. Now you can think of me when you wear my bracelet, and I’ll think of you too.”

Something thick catches in the back of my throat, and I struggle to swallow it down. “Thanks, Lil.”

“I’ll go wait in your room,” she tells Emily, then casts me a shy glance. “Bye, Adam.”

She runs across the room and disappears before I can say good-bye, and I climb to my feet, packing up the loom.

“You’re growing on her, huh?” Emily observes.

“She’s the sweetest kid ever.”

Emily smiles, but it’s sad and a little far off. As a child psychologist who works with the kids here, she knows a lot more about them and their lives than I do. I don’t want to be blind to the reason some of them are here, but I’m not sure I could stomach all of them either.

“She’s a very strong little lady.” She shakes the thought away and smiles. “Heard you have a date tonight. Jennie says you really like this girl.”

“I do. I think. I mean, so far. Yeah. I do.”

Her eyes gleam as they roam over me, as I shove my fingers through my hair and tug at my clothes. “My God, Jennie was right. You are a hot mess right now, aren’t you?”

I sigh. “I’m not proud of it.”

“Holy fucknuts.” She grips my hand as the front door opens and my coach strolls in. “Who’s that?”

“Davis.”

“Davis who? I’ve never seen him before.”

“He’s my coach. He visits with the kids here and there.”

“Mmm…” She traces her lower lip with her fingernail, eyes blazing. “Single?”

“Recently divorced.”

“Fuck yeah. Right up my alley.”

“His daughter is cute as hell too.”

“Daughter?” Her arms fall with her deflating sigh. “Ugh, gross. Kids.”

I arch a brow, gesturing at all the kids, the ones she works with for free in her spare time.

“I get to give these ones back, Adam. I’m not interested in keeping one full time.”

The door to her office opens and Lily pokes her head out, eyes wide. “Emily? Are you still here?”

“Coming, honey!” She bumps my hip with hers. “Have fun on your date, Casanova. Don’t forget to bring flowers and dessert. Chicks love that shit.” She winks at me as she backs away, holding a hand up between the side of her face and the rest of the room. “They also love being dessert.”

As if I’m taking any advice from Emily.

Okay, I’m taking a little advice from her.

About the dessert. Bringing one, not making Rosie mine. One day, maybe, but—no . No, Adam. Focus.

I tuck the freshly baked cookies and chocolate-covered strawberries into my picnic basket and set it by the front door, next to the bright bouquet of pink, orange, and yellow peonies I picked up earlier. I slip my shoes on, clip Bear’s leash on, and open the front door.

Then I slam it again.

Bear looks up at me, head cocked as if to say, “What the fuck, dude?”

I run to the bathroom, flick on the light, and stare at my reflection.

My curls have been tamed, my face freshly shaved, my teeth brushed threes time just in case, and my outfit is on point, thanks to Cara. I smooth my shirt down, pat my hair, and look to Bear.

“Whadda ya think, buddy? Handsome?”

His happy tail thuds against the wall.

“Right? So handsome. Everything’s gonna go great. I’m gonna tell Rosie what I do for a living, she’s gonna be totally nonchalant about the whole thing, we’re gonna have a great night, and maybe I’ll even hold her hand, and it’ll be perfect. Perfect night. Yeah.”

Still, I raise my phone, flash a shaky grin, and take a picture. Then I send it to the girls.

ME

Do I look okay?

JENNIE

Handsome as ever, my dude. Go get it. *eggplant emoji* *water droplets emoji*

OLIVIA

*heart eyes* *happy tears emoji* You look perfect, Adam.

CARA

If my husband won’t put a baby in me, will you???

I pick up the basket and flowers, then take a deep breath.

“Wish me luck, Bear. Gonna go win over the pretty girl.”