Undressed In The Crease by K. Kinley

Chapter 1

Lenny

Why and how did Nick Miller first come into my life?

It was a long shift at the gym, I was tired and vulnerable.

Wasn’t that it?

It didn’t help that his gorgeous body and haunting clear blue eyes that are more a light gray stared me down as I cleaned the machines around him.

I hate working the late shifts, but everyone else was off at the Kappa Delta frat party which I wasn’t invited to, nor did I have any interest in going. I was the only one who didn’t request to take off.

So, here I am, stuck working late Saturday night when I could be enjoying the last few nights of the semester in my quiet dorm reading a book or packing.

But, why is Nick here and not at the lame keg party?

I have no idea.

I never asked and he never said.

Parties like that are definitely his scene. The school’s hockey team, the Drexton Hall Huskies, for whom he plays goalie, had been knocked out of the Frozen Four and the D1 men’s playoffs. He didn’t need to be in the gym that night either, his season was over.

There is no good reason for him to be working out at the gym this late.

Yet here he is, running on the treadmill way past closing.

My manager let him stay to finish his workout without hesitation, because why not? Who cares about your tired, overworked employee who has to wait for the last person to leave to finish wiping down the machine he’s using?

I’ve been following him throughout the gym since his squats, cleaning up around him, hoping he’d get the hint.

Not at all checking out his ass.

Ok, there may have been some glances. But after the clock struck ten, he moved on to the leg press, now I’m pissed.

Does he have no decency to know he’s keeping me from leaving?

Is he not considerate enough to realize we are closed?

No. Twenty minutes passed and he just jumped on the treadmill for his finishing run. I might as well be invisible.

I know his routine. I’ve watched it from afar for the past four months since I started working here. Usually, it’s on early Saturday mornings. But for some reason, he skipped this morning and is now torturing me with a late night.

Not that he intended to make my life miserable. Nick Miller doesn’t even know me. I’m just the girl working at the gym that he’s never even seen before. I am invisible to him.

I did everything else to close out the day, except clean the last treadmill he’s running on. I've been pretending to clean the bike in front of him for the last five minutes.

I’ve already cleaned it twice.

He jumps off the treadmill after a quick run and I breathe out a sigh of relief.

Finally.

Nick lets out a laugh, before taking a swig from his water bottle, as I come barreling over to finish my cleaning duties.

Is he laughing at me?

Definitely not. I am invisible.

I quickly clean the treadmill and head to drop off the supplies before picking up my bag. It’s a good thing I don’t have to check the locker rooms tonight. I checked the women’s locker room one last time for good measure and they are good to go. I’m done.

As I head to the front desk to clock out, Jerrick, my manager stops me.

“Can you just do a sweep of the men’s locker room to make sure nothing was left behind?” He asks, without looking up from his phone.

Why me?

Oh, because I’m the only one working tonight.

“Yeah, sure.” I agree begrudgingly.

I’m a pushover.

I know I am. It’s why I’m working this shift in the first place. It’s only me and Jerrick left for the night. Which explains why he asked me to do it.

Jerrick would never do anything himself.

Why would he do any actual work around here?

He’s the face of the gym. Greets the customers by showing off what they could look like by working out. He sits at the front desk intimidating people to sign up for memberships and maybe does some filing and flirting.

That’s it.

I stormed into the men’s locker room, annoyed with Jerrick and myself for not standing up to him. He could have cleaned the machines and checked the locker room himself.

Why did I say yes?

Technically I already clocked out. I don’t have to do anything, especially not check the men’s locker room. We usually left that to the men that worked here. Jerrick should be checking it.

Not me.

All my training is abandoned, I walk right in and check the aisles for anything left out, I’m not checking the lockers.

Fuck that. Someone else can do that.

As I turn the corner there he is. Nick Miller in all his glory.

Naked.

He unwraps the towel from around his waist to wipe the water dripping from his hair down his forehead and over his eyes.

I freeze.

Like a deer caught in headlights staring at the magnificence that is Nick Miller’s gorgeous plane of utter perfection.

Rippling muscles through his chest and abs down to his firm and plump ass and thick thighs. And, oh dear god…

Shit.

“Oh my god! Sorry, so sorry!” I stumble back and run out the door.

I should’ve knocked when I entered and announced that I was there. Just like I had been trained to do for closing shifts. To be fair, the last time I had a closing shift was over two months ago. Even then I didn’t have to enter the men’s locker room. I let my annoyance get to me and forgot the simple steps I knew I should’ve done.

My chest heaves as I stand against the wall outside the room waiting for him to come out. I close my eyes, and all I see is the image of Nick Miller’s perfectly round tight ass and his thighs.

Oh boy, those thighs. They're huge. Normally they’re covered by his track shorts, but wow. They’re bigger and better than I could’ve ever imagined. Full of pure muscle from squatting in front of a net all the time.

Not that I fantasize about his thighs. I mean, who wouldn’t wonder what the wonder boy and future legend of the NHL looks like under all that gear?

That’s all I saw, though. Just his thighs. And possibly a little peek at his balls.

That’s it!

And maybe just the tip.

Yup, that was definitely the tip of his cock.

Not only is that not humiliating enough, but I don’t even know how long I stood there staring at him. I was frozen for at least two seconds, maybe more.

Definitely more.

This is so embarrassing.

Please earth, just swallow me up and let me disappear. Just for a little while. A few days, maybe?

I’ll be lucky if he doesn’t say anything to Jerrick about the gym’s peeping employee. I’ll get fired for sneaking a peek at Nick Miller’s naked body.

Yup, now that would be even more humiliating. Add it to my resume of minimal life and job experiences.

Nick comes out a minute later, fully dressed, holding the door for me.

“All clear,” he says with a smirk.

“Thanks,” I mumbled before ducking under his arm, not making any eye contact.

I kept my eyes glued to the floor. I’m embarrassed enough, I don’t need to see it in Nick Miller’s face.

I just have to check the aisles quickly, and leave. Just a quick sweep and then I can be on my way and never come face-to-face with the legendary Nick Miller again.

The overnight cleaning crew will come in later to pick up any towels or messes in the bathroom and showers. And by the time that happens, this nightmare will be over. I will go back to being the invisible girl who cleans the machines and works the smoothie counter from time to time.

First aisle clear, second aisle check, third… ugh!

There, under the bench is a set of keys. In the same aisle that Nick was just in. The same spot I had just seen him seconds ago with nothing but a towel in his hand.

I pick them up to see a Drexton Hall key card and a hockey goalie stick keychain. They’re his, no mistaking it.

I walk out not even bothering to check the rest of the aisles. I don’t care anymore. Jerrick can take his locker room check and stick it up his pompous ass. It’s not like anyone else was in the gym for the past few hours. It’ll be fine.

Ok, I went back and glanced down each aisle. Just a glance and nothing to report.

When I come back out I hear Nick still talking to Jerrick at the front desk. Hiding behind the wall, I listen closely.

I can’t show my face again. Not after that. I’ll never show my face in front of him ever again. It’s not like we’re ever really near each other, but now I will avoid any chance encounters.

“Yeah, it was one hell of a loss. Their power play is what killed us.” Nick says, talking about the last game he played. The one that sent the team packing.

I saw it.

The power play goal is what cost Drexton Hall the game. It should’ve been an easy save. I’ve seen him make saves on goals that were nearly impossible to stop. That goal should’ve been a walk in the park for Nick Miller, but it wasn’t.

No one knows for sure what happened.

My guess is Nick’s knee.

I saw him taking extra care with it the last couple of weeks. It’s probably the reason for his intense leg workouts tonight, and why he keeps favoring it. No one mentioned an injury, but he definitely wasn’t playing like himself.

Not that I’m a stalker.

I sound like a stalker.

I just notice these things. Hockey is my life. I can’t play for shit, but I still love the game. Hockey is all this school ever talks about. It’s the biggest hockey school in the northeast. It has one of the largest overall athletic programs in the country.

Not that I’m an athlete. But it also has one of the best sports journalism programs in the northeast. It’s the closest one to home for me that is centered mostly on hockey.

Avoiding having to face Nick again, I wait until he is out the door to come out from my hiding spot. I also want to get out before Jerrick can yell at me, or worse, fire me. I don’t even know if he can truly fire me. That might be above his pay grade.

“Here, someone left these behind. Goodnight.” I plop the keys on the counter and try to leave as fast as I can.

“They’re Nick’s. Go take them out to him,” Jerrick orders with a glance at the keys.

I stopped mid-stride to the door. “Um, why can’t you? You seem all buddy buddy with him.” Not even I believe the words that just stumbled out of my mouth.

Shit.

What am I thinking? I’ve never talked back to any of my bosses before.

“Because Lenny, I am finishing this up, and you are heading out the door. Is there a problem?” Jerrick eyes me, daring me to defy him.

That would make Jerrick’s day to fire me.

It may be the end of the semester, but I need this job lined up for next fall.

Did Nick tell him I walked into the locker room while he was completely naked?

There isn’t any indication he knows.

I quickly shake my head and grab the keys before walking out the door. At least he isn’t firing me on the spot. And I don’t want to give him any other reasons to.

I can do this.

Just hand him his keys and walk away. No big deal.

I spot Nick at his car fumbling through his bag. He tilts his head back with an aggregated groan.

I jog up behind him. “Hey, you left these.”

“Thank god!” He sighs in relief. “I thought I was going to have to go back in there.”

He takes the keys from me while shaking his head.

“You’re welcome,” I mutter awkwardly even though he hasn’t exactly thanked me.

Why am I so awkward?

Did I not mention that Nick Miller is the starting star goalie of our school's hockey team, The Drexton Hall Huskies? By far the best goalie in the NCAA? Oh, and I am a huge fan with a dream to be a sports journalist specializing in hockey.

Yup, a big nerd who got a job at the gym with my college roommate, the Queen gymnast herself. I work at the gym for a free membership so I can take yoga classes and still be able to study. The meditation helps my anxiety and awkward nervousness. It doesn’t help with the nervousness of talking to the best college hockey goaltender in the country. The one that’s already being looked at as a number one pick and starter for most of the NHL teams. And probably will be the best in the league, well on his way to becoming a legend. Yup, I am talking to a legend in the making. There’s no way I can be cool about this.

It’s the reason why I watch from afar taking mental notes to help with my future articles and stories. Not a stalker.

I turn to walk away. The gym is also very close to my dorm room. It’s the most convenient job right off campus. The best place to work when you don’t have a car.

“Hey, are you hungry?” Nick calls out.

I turn back and look around expecting someone else to be here.

He couldn’t have been talking to me. Right?

No one else is here. But why would he be talking to me?

“All my friends are busy, and I don’t like to eat alone.” He shrugs. “Plus, you owe me for not telling Jerrick you walked in on me in the locker room,” he added with a smirk, crossing his gorgeous arms across his chest.

When Nick Miller asks you to go get something to eat, you don’t say no. It’s a rule I have. Even if you are still stuffed from eating a whole plate of nachos for dinner, you still don’t say no.

“Uh sure,” I shrug and walk back to his car. “Did you really not say anything?”

“Yeah, I figured it was the least I could do, for making you stay late and clean up after me.” He smirks again and pushes his dark wavy hair from his eyes.

He’s gorgeous. The smoldering eyes and coiffed hair, kind of gorgeous. Another reason you don’t say no to him.

I hop in his car with my gym bag at my feet.

“Do you want to drop that off in your car?” He asks, pointing to my bag that is causing me to awkwardly sit with my legs squished up and my knees to my chest.

“Oh, I don’t have one. I walk here and back. It’s fine.” I squeeze my foot down next to it.

Nick reaches down between my legs, his arm brushes against my thigh, sending a heat wave right up the center before grabbing my bag and tossing it to the back.

“There that’s better. Diner ok?” He asks as if he didn’t just cause my entire body to be set on fire.

I nod, not being able to breathe let alone speak.

The diner is probably the only thing open serving decent food this late, and again you don’t say no to Nick Miller.

Even when he drives you home to your dorm room. Leans over to give you a kiss goodnight, and invites himself up to your room. You just don’t say no.

Or at least I didn’t.

Why would I?

It was one night. The last week of school before summer vacation.

It’s Nick Miller!

Gorgeous, sexy Nick Miller. The star goalie and star of every fantasy of every girl in this school. Including my own.

The conversation over a shared plate of cheese fries was good. We talked about our plans for the summer. We talked about seeing our families and friends from our hometown. We closed the diner with nonstop chatter.

And then when we got to my dorm, he leaned over to help get my bag from the back, but he didn’t stop leaning until his lips were on mine.

Then he insisted on carrying my very light gym bag up the stairs to my room.

Why? Because he’s a gentleman.

Yeah, that’s not why.

My roommate was out at that lame party everyone else was at and staying with her boyfriend for the night. I opened the door to an empty dorm room and we immediately started kissing again.

He is good. So good.

I lost every thought in his kiss. My mind completely cleared out and focused on him. Only him.

My knees went weak with the way his tongue sought passage. Light little teases at my lips until they opened up and he found mine.

It’s my one night of passion to brag about for the rest of my time at Drexton. Not like I have anyone to brag to besides my only friend Bridget and maybe my roommate. But they’re going to be so jealous.

He was gone right after.

It is what it is. A one-night stand. Usually, I have those after an exorbitant amount of alcohol. First time I had one completely sober.

It’s a good thing it happened a week before I left for home. I don’t have to awkwardly run into him at the gym or between classes.

I can go home and know he will forget the whole thing. Forget about me, the anxious awkward peeper, who babbled about her family over cheese fries.

I won’t forget.

Nope.

Not a single moment.

But he will forget all about me like the many other sexual partners he’s had.

I’m ok with that. I know what it was and have absolutely no regrets or expectations.