He winces. “Yeah.”
“And your work thing…”
Seb clears his throat. “What are you asking?”
“Please tell me you don’t play hockey,” I whisper.
He winces. “I can’t do that.”
“Fuck. Fuck.” Searching the room, I find one shoe and slip it on. Where’s the other?
“Audrey. Is my job really that big a deal?”
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”
He snorts. “Yeah, because boasting is a surefire way to get a woman into bed.”
Whirling around, I stare at him with my hands on my hips. “Is that all this is? Only sex?”
“I don’t want it to be,” he says slowly. “But I’m guessing by whatever’s freaking you out…”
“I don’t fuck with hockey players,” I snap. “I can’t.”
“Audrey—“
“Fuck. I’m so screwed.” I pace back and forth. My dad is going to kill me.
He catches my arm. “Hey. Is it really that big a deal?”
“Yeah. It is.” I wrench away.
“Audrey…”
I shake my head. “No. You don’t get to do that. Don’t use that voice with me.”
“What voice?”
“The I’ve seen you naked voice.”
He steps closer to me. “But I have seen you naked.”
I look away.
“What’s the problem?”
“My dad. He’s…”
“He’s not a fan of hockey?”
“Worse,” I whisper. “He works in it.”
“So do I,” he laughs. “My whole family does.” He pauses. “He’s not a GM?”
“No. He’s a coach.”
“Oh, cool.” His voice is hollow.
I stiffen. “You’re not going to ask who he is? Try to get tickets or ask for a tryout?”
