“What do you want to know?” she asked.
“Well, what do you do in your spare time?”
Have you met Sebastien?
Spare time wasn’t in her job description.
“I work a lot,” she said, then paused, debating how much to share. “And I’m really into hockey.”
“The Jets, huh?” Cary smirked, tilting his chin. “I know you’re from Winnipeg—the Peg.That,I remember.”
She nodded, casually wiping her mouth with a napkin, trying to play it cool.
“I’m singing the anthem at their home opener,” he added.
Tyler blinked. Of course he was. She probably knew his tour schedule better thanhedid.
“Wait . . .” His brow furrowed, eyes widening—and actually changing color, which felt unfair. “Isthatwhy I’ve been playing there?”
She opened her mouth, but he was already crossing his arms in mock offense. “You’re using me to watch hockey? I’m hurt.”
She raised her right hand and lowered her head. “Guilty as charged. It’s Sebastien’s doing—he’s been making the calls. They give us a really nice box, and it’s fully stocked with booze.”
She figured he wasn’t much of a sports fan since she’d never seen him in the suite. Maybe it wasn’t a big deal to him, but it was to her. A big fucking deal.
He gave her a flirtatious wink. “As long as it’s a really nice box.”
“It is.” She twisted the stem of her wine glass. “I love watching games there.”
“Winnipeg . . .” He paused, searching her face. “You don’t miss it, do you?”
A pang of sadness tightened in her chest. “More than you can imagine.”
Their heads turned as metal shrieked against concrete—Kevin, straining to drag a wrought-iron table across the patio. Cary winced, clapping his hands over his ears like he was being tortured by a Dave Matthews Band deep cut.
“You’re sensitive to noise, aren’t you?” Tyler asked, watching him carefully.
He nodded, eyes following the server. “It’s a blessing and a curse.”
Like being here with you.
Was she catching feelings for this guy? This rock star? The most eligible bachelor in the world? Or were they just leftover sparks from her high school crush—flickers of a fantasy she thought she’d outgrown? Either way, it wasn’t like he was into her.
“Wow!” Cary’s eyebrows lifted when Kevin returned with two large trays. “I didn’t know there’d be this much food.”
“How many are we expecting?” Tyler couldn’t help being a smartass. She glanced over her shoulder. “There’s no one else in the restaurant.”
Cary placed his palm on hischeek. “I didn’t realize the portions were this big.”
Kevin unloaded the food onto both tables and topped up their glasses. “All set, man?”
“Thanks.” Cary’s manners were impeccable—another checkmark in her book. He passed her a side plate and a cloth napkin. “Tyler. That’s usually a guy’s name, isn’t it?”
“You should talk.” She folded the napkin onto her lap. “Cary’s a girl’s name.”
“Cary Grant,” he said with a grin. “My mom’s favorite actor. She loves those old movies. How did you get your name?”
“My dad named me after a singer.” She took a sip of wine before elaborating. “He’s into seventies rock, obviously.”
