She can refuse to accept it all she wants, but there's something between us. It's physical and palpable, and the fact that she's denying it only makesme crave it more. But I'm not going to let her forget. Not that easily at least.
The boys are piling off the bench toward the locker room as Brooke saunters down the stairs in the stands closest to the tunnel. For the first time since practice started, she's within a reasonable distance from me, even if she's avoiding eye contact and has her hands tucked into that fucking jacket.
"Hey," I call up to her, catching her eyes and those of the last few players still heading out. "Aren't you gonna come with us?"
Burnsey, who I could kiss for finally picking the perfect time to put his nose where it doesn't belong, hangs back and drapes his arm over my shoulder, pulling his helmet up to rest on his forehead.
"Yeah, Jenny used to go all behind the scenes for interviews and shit for the 'Gram.' Maybe catch some skin while we strip down. You in?"
Brooke goes wide-eyed for a second before regaining her composure. "No, that's okay." She pulls her hand out of her pocket, and with it comes her phone. She holds it up and says, "I think I got enough for today."
Brett leans into me. "Aw, the new girl's bashful," he whispers.
My mind flashes back to the image of Brooke sitting relaxed and completely naked on the bathroom sink with her perfect pussy on display. I blow out a slow breath as her bold words ring inside my head."Keep going." "Faster." "More."
"Yeah, I don't think that's it," I say, my voice coming out weak.
"Well, shy or not, she's totally hot."
I resist punching him as he nods again toward Brooke. "We don't bite," he says louder. "Unless you're into that sort of thing." Brett raises his brows in her direction and laughs before nudging my shoulder and heading out through the tunnel.
Brooke and I are the last two in the rink, and her dark eyes are still on me. "You get some good content?" I call over the rail that sits between us, desperate to continue talking.
"Good enough," she says, sticking her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. Her jacket pulls open with the movement, revealing an inch of skin just above her waist. My eyes immediately drop to the tanned sliver, and she notices.
Without even thinking about it, I step closer to the stands, looking up at her. She doesn't exactly seem thrilled, but she doesn't walk away either, which is good enough for me.
"You didn't tell me about the job," I say.
"You didn't ask."
My head drops forward as I try to hide my smirk. When I look back up, she's wearing a weak smile too. "Fair enough."
A silence falls between us that's not necessarily uncomfortable, but definitely charged.
"Listen, Drew, I—"
"Brooke, I think—"
We both speak at the same time, then snap our lips shut simultaneously. "You go first," I say, leaning my weight on my stick.
"I was going to say, considering I'll be working with you at least for a little while, I think we should—"
"We should probably go on a date," I say, cutting her off. Her face falls flat. "Sorry, I know I said you could go first, but something tells me I'm not gonna like the end of your sentence."
She tilts her head sideways and crosses her arms. "Drew, we talked about this."
"No," I say, shifting my feet. "You rattled off a list of excuses and are calling it a conversation."
"They aren't excuses. They're facts, and they make total sen—"
"Bullshit."
Her head snaps back. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me," I say. I hook my hand on the lowest rung of the rail and lean in. "You don't strike me as the type of girl who gives one fuck about any of that shit you leaned on last night." Her throat moves up and down as her arms fall loose, just enough for me to notice.
"Admit it, Brooke. You still want me." Her cheeks flush the perfect shade of pink, and I feel it fucking everywhere. "The same way I want you," I add, my voice low but confident.
