“Feisty Hadley, lucky me,” I mock.
Her mouth changes shape to a sultry look. “Someone will be lucky. I didn’t even offer yet, but I may let Shawn trace the spot of my new tattoo with his tongue,” she rasps.
Willpower.
It’s taking a ton of willpower not to snap right now. She’s riling me up because she seems to think I’m affected, and she can’t know her theory is true.
But I’ll play her little game. I pretend to look at my watch. “You should send him my way if he needs directions, considering we both know that my tongue and hands are far too familiar with your body.”
“And don’t I regret it,” she snipes.
In a flash, I step forward and trap her between the side of a vacant seat and my body, our breaths mingle, and her chin rises from surprise. My head lolls to the side gently, and if I were to move an inch, then her mouth would be mine. “Trust me, I’m honored that you gave me your V-card.” I pretend to be touched because she can never know the real truth.
Two palms land against my chest because I delivered a low blow, even I know that. Trust me, I’m already disgusted with myself.
“Don’t dredge up our past mistakes,” Hadley seethes, and I notice the rhythm of her chest moving while her scornful gaze feels like fire on me. “You’re the biggest asshole on this plane.”
“Big and me do go hand in hand,” I taunt.
She growls. “Your ego is a piece of work, and your arrogant tendencies aren’t the least bit refreshing. Anything but original, actually. This is how this is going to go, Connor. You’ll let me drink, dance, play blackjack, and do whatever the hell I want in peace. Watch all you want, because we both know you’re like a child upset that his toy got taken away.”
A deep chuckle roars in the back of my throat. “You’re a toy now?”
Hadley shakes her head, clearly exasperated. She looks away then back to me, with her eyes softening. “Insufferable, that’s what you are.” For a second, I hear sadness in her tone, and I nearly falter because I do actually hate that she was hurt and it’s my doing.
But I stay strong.
When she pivots to leave, I grab her arm, and she looks down then draws her sight up. “Just… not Shawn. He’s bad news.” My voice grows delicate, because as much as we’re one another’s despair, a protectiveness that I have no right to feel hits me when she’s around.
She scoffs a sound. “No, Connor… you’re bad news, and I swear, if I had it in me, then I would find a way to destroy you.” It takes me a moment to digest her honesty, but then she snickers and walks a step before glancing over her shoulder. “I’ll be sure to ask you to pass the salt when I decide to do body shots with your teammate.”
She turns her back and leaves, so maybe she doesn’t hear my growl. She’s impossible, agonizing, and beautiful when she snarls.
Having her on this trip, not my choice, is the work of the devil. That’s the only thing I can come up with when I decide another scotch is calling my name.
* * *
That was a near excruciating flight,but luckily, other than a few drinks, everyone kept it steady, as we all know we have a long night ahead.
Now we are in Vegas, and I’m sitting on the sofa in the luxurious penthouse that we rented, complete with a rooftop pool. After checking into the hotel and freshening up, we got straight into the celebratory mood. I’m sitting on a sofa, overlooking the Vegas skyline as the sun hangs low to the west.
My friend and teammate, Briggs Chase, hands me a fresh drink with a grin. “God, I’m having a good time. No Vaughn Madden in sight.” That’s his archnemesis on the ice, the guy who got Briggs a ten-minute misconduct penalty during our game with Tampa.
“You’re still going on about that? He is actually quite a good guy off the ice.” Briggs gives me a death stare, and I give up.
He tips his nose in Hadley’s direction. “You going to survive?”
I stare into the presumably gin and tonic that he placed in my hands. “Always do. I’m feeling lucky tonight. Let’s head straight to the blackjack table when we head down.”
He feigns a sound of doubt. “I don’t know, man, can’t be late for the strippers.”
I scoff. “I’ll take a hard pass.”
Briggs raises his brows at me. “Why? Because you want to stick around to deter Shawn from getting his own private show from a certain dancer?”
“Fuck that. She isn’t my problem.” I hate that there is frustration in my voice.
Choosing to ignore the giggles of the girls in our group, lining up shots near the snack buffet, I know the daggers I feel on my back can only be coming from one person on this trip.
