And do you thinkhe’llgive you the time of day? You couldn’t even land a guy who’s going to spend his whole career in the minors. A star like Abashev? Keep dreaming, Wilson.
Why did I hear my own thoughts in Morris’s voice? Ugh. Fuck him.
Right then, Abashev’s gaze landed on me. He gave me an appreciative down-up that was anything but subtle, and I was grateful for the booming music because I was pretty sure I whimpered.
Get a grip, Wils. What the hell?
Yeah, get a grip when Vasily Abashev—a man I’d crushed on both personally and professionally and had literally jacked off to—was shamelessly checking me out. In a gay bar. Where men came to find other men for sex.
And then those stunning brown eyes locked on mine, and oh, fuck, his charmingly lopsided smile completely scrambled my brain. No, he might not have been the type to land on magazine covers or starring movie roles, but there was nothing unattractive about him. Especially not when he was looking at me like that.
Morris’s voice tried to put me back in my place, and nerves tried to keep me still, but Abashev’s magnetism drew me across the room. I was halfway to him when I realized he’d probably just recognized me. Maybe he’d been trying to place me. Trying to remember where he’d seen me before.
Oh God, what if he realized I’d been one of the starry-eyed kids trying desperately to impress my way onto the Vegas Aces roster? One of the kids who’d failed to do that every season I’d been there?
Was I about to have yet another hockey player snort derisively and tell me to keep dreaming?
Oh, fuck, he was probably?—
But as I came closer, I didn’t see any recognition in his eyes. Interest, sure, but not like he’d seen me before or had any reason to believe we’d ever crossed paths.
“Hi,” he said with a charming and slightly nervous smile.
I swallowed. “Um. Hi.” I held his gaze, wondering if he really did recognize me or not. Apparently he didn’t, and he was watching me as if expecting me to carry this conversation somehow. Aw, fuck. If we’d matched on an app, we’d have both been staring at our phones, each waiting for the three gray dots to appear.
I took a pull from my beer and gestured at our surroundings. “Do you come here a lot?” The cliché made me want to die, but I was so awkward in that moment—so freaked out as I faced down Vasily Abashev somewhere other than the ice—I had no idea what else to say.
He shrugged, glancing around us. “I’m new to town. This is my first time here.” He looked right in my eyes. “You?”
“Oh. Uh. I’m new to the area too.” Panic instantly shot through me because I knew what his next question would be, and I was suddenly afraid he’d figure out we’d met before. I didn’t want him to know we’d been sort-of-teammates before, and that I’d been one of those kids who hadn’t deserved to share the ice with someone like him.
Sure enough, he asked, “Where are you from?”
“Michigan.” The answer wasn’t a lie, just not the whole truth. “You?”
“Russia. But I lived in Canada, and I was in Las Vegas before I came here.”
I chuckled, hoping my nerves didn’t come through. Not too much, anyway. “This must be a change—all the rain after living in the desert.”
He made a face. “It hasn’t rained since I’ve been here. I think it’s all a lie.”
I laughed. “You haven’t been here very long, then. October, November—that’swhen the rain hits.”
Abashev scowled. “I’ll believe it when I see it.” He sipped his own drink, which was some sort of liquor on the rocks. I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what, especially in the relatively dim light of the club. Lowering his glass, he asked, “What’s your name?”
“Taylor.” I gulped. “Yours?” As if I didn’t know, but I didn’t wanthimto know that, even if I couldn’t quite explain why.
That lopsided smile came back to life. “Vasily.” Then he leaned in close enough to be heard. “Do you dance?”
I could barely find my breath. “Not very well. But… yeah.”
Vasily laughed. Gesturing at my beer, he added, “Finish that. Then…” He nodded sharply toward the dancefloor and raised his eyebrows.
Oh fuck. Maybe Morris was wrong after all.
His voice inside my head had fallen conspicuously silent, too.
So I finished my beer.
