“I don’t think so.” He smiled. “Is that a yes?”
“It’s not a no,” I said, smiling back at him. His awkwardness was actually kind of cute. “What kind of date are you thinking?”
His confidence quickly returned. “Dinner tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up. I drive a pretty cool car. You’ll be impressed.”
“I bet I will be. The only thing that could impress me more is if you were given the car for free.”
Cole flashed a perfect white smile. “You’re never going to believe this…”
I giggled in spite of myself. “Yeah. I’d like that. I don’t want to go anywhere fancy, though. I don’t need to be impressed by being taken to the nicest restaurant in town.”
“Of course,” he replied smoothly. “Besides, you’ll already be maximum impressed by my car.”
“I hope it’s the same car model used in a famous 90s car chase. By a famous athlete.”
“I don’t want to ruin the surprise,” Cole said, “but yes.”
“What surprise?”
Both of us jumped as Rhett walked into the trainer’s room.
“We both drive the same car,” Cole said. “The new Ford Bronco.”
Rhett rolled his eyes and turned to me. “Has he bragged about how it was gifted to him because he’s endorsed by Ford?”
“Several times, actually,” I replied. Seeing the two men next to each other was giving me flashbacks from my shower fantasy last night, and I could feel my cheeks growing hot.
Rhett frowned, glancing back and forth between us. “It feels like I interrupted something.”
“I’ll tell you about it when you’re older.” Cole clapped him on the back, then walked into the locker room.
Rhett watched him go, then turned back to me. “What’s that all about?”
I couldn’t think of a good excuse, and I didn’t like lying, so I said, “Cole, uh, asked me out.”
Rhett blinked. “Like, on a date?”
“Yep.”
“Oh.” He scratched the back of his neck. “And you told him you don’t date defensive players, right? Only incredibly-handsome right wings?”
“Actually, I said yes.” I stepped closer and lowered my voice. “Is that all right? Does that make things weird between you and me?”
“I have to say, I’m a little jealous.” He glanced at the door, then leaned in close enough for me to feel his breath on my cheek. “Fuck. It makes me want you even more. Think we can sneak in a quickie before the game?”
“No time,” I said. “But I wish we could.”
He groaned. “Stupid hockey. Getting in the way of my sex life.”
I turned sideways, allowing my fingertips to brush the front of his workout shorts in passing. The thin fabric couldn’t conceal the way his cock twitched at my touch. “But maybe after the game…”
“Yeah?” he asked as I walked over to my desk.
“Maybe,” I said. “But only if you score two points tonight.”
Something intense flashed behind his crystal-blue eyes. “Challenge accepted. I’m easily motivated.”
We all fell into our pre-game routines. I monitored the progress of the guys on the injured list as they went through their exercises, then moved on to the players who were still on the roster but dealing with minor aches and pains. That was the thing about hockey: nobody ever felt a hundred percent healthy. Everyone was always dealing withsomething.
