She’s right.
West already warned me that this is a bad idea.
Simon and Felix agree with him.
I should head home and forget all about this.
And her.
But I can’t.
Or maybe the truth is—I don’t want to.
There’s something between us. I don’t know what it is, but I feel it. The air is electric when we’re together. I like her and she liked me before she knew who I was. She likes Broderick, the man, not Bodi the NHL player.
And I can’t think of any woman I’ve ever dated who falls into that category.
“I don’t think we can ignore the pull between us,” I say thoughtfully. “Or the way fate threw us together again, even after we both assumed we were going to meet up with someone different today.”
“So we’re going to… what? Start dating?”
“If you want to. I mean, we can take things slow. Training camp starts tomorrow, so I’m going to be busy. Even busier when the season officially starts. You have school and your internship and Lindy.”
“What about your friends? We can’t spend every moment out in public, which means we’d need to be at your house sometimes. Don’t you live with them?”
I nod. “Yeah, but they’ll keep their mouths shut. Just because they don’t agree with my decision doesn’t mean they’ll rat me out.”
“Are you sure about that? Your career could be on the line.”
“Don’t worry about the guys—leave that to me. As long as you and I are on the same page, we’re good.”
“Okay.”
Okay?
Could any of this possibly be that simple? Just a mutual desire and an agreement to keep things on the down low? Does anything ever work out that easily? I guess there’s no way to know the answer to that question, and the only other option in this case is one I’ve already discarded.
I like being with her, having her hand in mine, watching her profile in my peripheral vision as we drive. The way she’s quiet, thoughtful, and doesn’t push herself on me. How smart and kind she is. The touch of sass that comes out every so often. And I’d be a fucking liar if I didn’t admit that I’d kill to see some of that sass in bed.
“Tell me about Cal,” I say as I merge onto the highway.
“Ugh.” She shudders. “What a terrible way to start a new relationship.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Eh, we might as well get it over with. I was a sophomore in college and over Christmas break I was at home. Dad was coaching and the team only got a few days off because of practice and a New Year’s Day tournament, which Lourdes, Lindy, and I attended since it was only two hours from home.”
“That’s where you met?”
“Yeah. He was… handsome. Charming. Interesting. Only a year older, twenty to my nineteen.” I flush but there’s no point in lying. “He was my first everything. Other than some insignificant high school group dates and whatever. I fell hard and fast. We did long distance for the rest of the school year and then spent a lot of time together in the summer. He only lived an hour from me so he would drive to see me. We were pretty inseparable.”
“And then?”
“Then junior year started. Senior year for him. He’d turned twenty-one over the summer and could drink legally. He started partying with his friends and teammates. My dad caught him—and a group of others—having sex in Cal’s hotel room. There was a girl riding him, on his lap, and my dad got pictures because he threatened to tell all their parents. It was horrible all around. Me finding out my boyfriend was cheating from my dad. With pictures, no less. My dad getting in a fist fight with him and then blackmailing some of his players to keep them in line. Cal begging me to forgive him so my dad would forgive him too. It was a cluster.”
“Oh, shit, honey. That sucks.”
“Yeah.” I sigh, staring straight ahead. “And Dad made a firm no-dating-my-players rule.”
