I swallow around it.
“I should go,” she says, blinking toward the window. “Coach Danner’s going to strip me of my captaincy if I’m late for this meeting. Or murder me. Could go either way.” She shrugs.
She scoops up her phone from the counter, thumbs flying, brow furrowed like she’s trying to reschedule her entire life on the walk to the rink. Maybe she is.
“Crap. I’m gonna have to walk like a cartoon character trying to outrun gravity.”
“See you at practice?” Funny how the change in practice times started us off on the wrong foot, but now it’s the thing I’m most thankful for. Knowing I’ll get to see her between our exhausting schedules.
She heads toward the door, pulling on her jacket one sleeve at a time. “Definitely. Unless Coach really goes through with it this time. Which is a possibility. If you don’t hear from me in a couple of hours, avenge my death.”
I step up behind her, hands slipping around her waist, and drop a kiss on the back of her neck. She shivers under the touch.
“Before you go. I have a question for you?” I murmur the words against her neck.
“Mm hm.” Her voice is wispy, but she shakes off the fuzz. “If you’re trying to seduce me into climbing back into bed with you, it’s not going to work. Remember? Murderous coach waiting?” She doesn’t move away, though.
My laugh is husky. “It’s not that. Not that I’d refuse. But no, it’s about the gala I was telling you about. It’s next Saturday. I’d still love for you to come.” I say, slower than intended.
“Oh shit, is it?” I can feel her tense up. “Right. Still want me to come?”
“Yeah,” I say, and it comes out quiet but steady. “I do.”
“I guess it was a bit much for a first date, but a second date. Why not?”
“Yes, save the black-tie affair for after we spend the day babysitting your sullen teenager of a sister.” I shake my head.
“She’s not... well, yeah, I guess she is. But you loved it.”
“I loved spending time with you and getting to know you a little better, not fending off your little sister’s dance friends.”
“They didn’t mean any harm. Their moms, on the other hand.”
I nod. “Right? They were terrifying. But I escaped intact.”
“You did. Thank you for taking us,” she says, leaning into me. “I guess you got through that, so I can probably survive a charity fundraiser.”
“You don’t owe me anything. If you don’t want to go, don’t feel like you have to just because I came to your sister’s thing.”
“Oh good. So, the ride didn’t come with a blood oath of service to the Whitaker family?”
I laugh, but it doesn’t quite ease the nerves. I really want her to come with me, but I can’t blame her if she doesn’t want to. “No. That clause only kicks in if I give you a ride on the family yacht.”
“A yacht? Of course.” She twists around, looping her arms around my neck. “Yes. I’ll come to the gala with you. But don’t blame me if I use the wrong fork.”
“It’s hors d’oeuvres only. No forks.”
“That’s a relief. Thanks for easing my mind.”
“Always.” I slide my hands up her back to tangle in her hair, pulling her in. Then I dip down to capture her lips. She moves with me, lips pliable. Tongue darting out to trace my lower lip.Lust fizzes through me, sending tingles through my body. My fingers flex in her hair, and my tongue strokes hers.
Then I remember our conversation and groan, pulling away. “You better get out of here, Wild Thing, or I’ll be dragging you upstairs caveman style.”
“Right, crap.” She pushes me away and runs a hand through her hair. Then she backs up, turning to push the door open. “I’ll see you later.”
“Later.”
The door clicks behind her. The house is immediately, oppressively silent. No echo of her boots on hardwood. No scent of her sweet shampoo lingering in the air.
