Charlie's brows furrowed in concentration, her jaw clenching as she muttered incoherent curses at the screen. In the two years I'd been living in the Hockey House, I had never been so happy to only have one couch in the living room. Charlie was seated next to me, her legs tucked under her, hands white-knuckled around the controller.

For someone who didn't play sports, she sure was competitive.

Maverick, who had opted to claim the ottoman, barked out a laugh as he scored yet another point against us.

"Come on, Picasso. You're letting the team down." I teased, making her glare at me with those light brown eyes.

"Shut up, Booker," she retorted, tongue sticking out for good measure. "I'm still getting the hang of this game."

Maverick was still focused on the screen when he tsked. "Your team's crumbling before we even reached half time."

Charlie huffed beside me, hitting me with another glare for good measure. I couldn't help but laugh. She was as threatening as a newborn kitten.

Over the volume of the TV, a chime drifted down the stairs. Without thinking about it, Charlie dropped her controller down on the couch. "I have to go grab those."

There was one condition that had to be met before she would agree to stay over instead of searching for another place to stay for the night; and that was clean sheets. I tried to focus on the game instead of the fact that Charlie would be sleeping under the same roof as me that night. It was an innocent enough situation–– she needed a place to stay until her housemate showed up with a key. But still, my thoughts couldn't help but race at the thought of her so close by.

"Can't you make his bed later?" I said, gesturing to the unpaused game. "Hendrix's bed isn't going anywhere. You're leaving me hanging here."

"You'll manage."

"Fine, I'll win, even with your player just standing on the ice," I informed her backside, taking a second too long to appreciate the way her hips swayed. In that brief moment, Maverick swooped in, taking the puck from me and burying it in the back of the net.

"For fuck sakes," I uttered, banging the controller down onto the couch.

Maverick smirked. "Get your head in the game, Gauthier."

Fucking cheater.

The next face-off was about the start when Maverick paused the game. His dark eyes flickered over to me. I raised an eyebrow in question. "What?"

"I don't think I've ever seen you this bothered," he said.

"You can't get the puck off me when I'm on my A-game."

"I'm not talking about the game, you idiot." He lowered his voice. "I'm talking about our house guest."

I raised an eyebrow at him, attempting to keep an air of indifference around me. "What makes you seem to think I'm bothered?"

He pointed to the score still up on the screen. 12-2.

I gave him a bored look. "I have someone who doesn't know how to play on my team."

Maverick's grin only grew, seeing right through my bullshit. In reality, having Charlie sitting a couple inches away from me had sent my senses into overdrive. The heat of her body, the smell of her coconut shampoo, everything was overwhelming me.

"Don't worry big guy, you can beat the bishop later."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Fuck off, Ricky."

Maverick erupted into a fit of laughter before bringing his voice back down. "Seriously though, are you going to make a move or what?"

I could feel the weight of his scrutiny, but I kept my eyes trained on the paused game on the TV. Maverick wasn't one to shy away from an attractive woman and in most cases, I wasn't either. And I think that's why he had such a hard time wrapping his head around why I hesitated to make a move on Charlie.

There wasn't any way I could get him to understand. Charlie wasn't like the girls we'd hooked up with at bars. Prior to this semester, she hated my fucking guts. Hell, she hated most people's fucking guts. Making a move before I could guarantee how she felt about me was a suicide mission.

I was not about to blow my chances with her before I even got one.

"None of your business," I uttered, reaching over to his controller and unpausing the game.

"Alright," he mused with a shake of his head. "But remember, that James guy is planning to make his way back into the picture any day now."

My best friend's words hung in the air like a dark cloud, casting a shadow over the fun we'd been having just moments ago. I clenched my jaw, inwardly cursing him for bringing it up. With James still in the picture, the clock was ticking, and I was running out of time.

Charlie's light footsteps thumped against the steps as she made her way downstairs. As she reached the bottom, I couldn't I couldn't help but steal a glance at her in my peripheral. The oversized hoodie that she was wearing made me imagine what she would look like in mine.

Phone in hand, she settled back into her spot on the couch. My stomach twisted into knots at the thought of losing her to someone else.

"Are you not jumping back into the game?" I asked, turning my head briefly to see her scrolling on her phone.

Charlie peered up at the TV for a short beat. "You seem like you're doing fine without me. I'm tired of hockey. Don't you guys play anything else?"

"Way to let the team down, Picasso. Here I am, trying to hold down the fort until you came back––"

She huffed, tossing her phone down on the couch and grabbing her controller. "Fine!"

Maverick snickered from his seat and I tried my best to bite back a smile.

The vibe shifted as all three of us were drawn back into the game. As I was about to score a much needed goal, a low growl emitted from next to me. Charlie's face turned a shade of pink as she tried to cover up the sound by clearing her throat.

When the virtual puck hit the back of Maverick's net I paused the game. "I'm starving. Anyone up for pizza?"

"Absolutely. All this ass whooping is making me hungry," Maverick said, stretching in his seat.

"Picasso?" I swivelled my head to look at her. "What do you like on your pizza?" When she hesitated I added, "Or is that not one of the four foods you'll eat?"

Charlie's eyes narrowed at me again. "Cheese."

"Perfect," I said, slipping my phone out of my pocket. "Half cheese, half meat lovers it is."

Maverick hummed in contentment. "You read my mind."

_ _ _ _ _

The pizza arrived forty-five minutes later. In a fraction of time it took to get there, it was gone. I tried to slow down, giving Charlie enough time to eat until she was satisfied.

Too soon, dinner was over and I found myself cleaning up the remnants of our meal while Maverick vanished. While I was washing up the dishes, I thought I heard the front door open and close. If I knew my teammate well enough–which I did–I would have guessed that he was off to meet up with some girl he'd been dealing with.

As I finished cleaning up, I wandered back towards the living room. I wondered what Charlie was doing. Was she still sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone? Or had she gone up to Hendrix's room, preparing for bed?

I stepped into the living room to find Charlie fast asleep on the couch. Both of her hands were tucked under her head, knees pulled up towards her torso. Her expression was the most peaceful I'd ever seen her. It was a huge adjustment to the scowl she was normally giving me.

I smiled. The day's events must have really taken a toll on her.

For a moment, I contemplated whether or not to leave her. The awkward angle of her neck helped me make my choice. I debated waking her up and leading her to her freshly made bed. But even that didn't sit well with me. If she had fallen asleep so early on in the night, I was sure she needed all the rest she could get.

Careful not to jostle her awake, I slid my arms beneath Charlie's sleeping frame and lifted her off the couch. She stirred slightly, her eyelids fluttering as she snuggled closer to my chest, and my face grew warm.

When I was sure I wasn't about to wake her, I headed for the stairs. The weight of her body was comforting, her head against my shoulder. My heart was beating erratically just below where her ear rested. This was a horrible idea.

I nicked Hendrix's bedroom door open with my foot, making my way across the room and lowering her onto the cotton sheets. I tried to ignore the way her sweater rode up, revealing the swell of her hip and a sliver of skin above the hem of her leggings. I tugged the fabric back down, pulling the covers over her for good measure.

"Sweet dreams, Charlie," I whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead. Her scent filled my senses again and I struggled to pull away.

As if it were second nature, Charlie rolled to her side, hands slipping under the pillow that was now supporting her head. I stepped back, admiring the calmness in her face for one more full moment.

Then I left, shutting the door and heading back downstairs to close up for the night. I might as well have taken my time. I knew that, whenever I decided to crawl into bed, I wouldn't be able to sleep. Not with Charlie just across the hall.

She was so close, and yet still out of reach.

_ _ _ _ _

author's note:

Here's a sweet moment for you! There's more of that to come... eventually (:

Is this slow burn killing you yet? Because it's killing me lol

Happy reading!