I track Clay to the top of the stairs, which elicits a rush of annoyance. “What are you doing?”
He offers a sheepish look. “Sorry. I was following the trail of pictures. I wanted to see this last one.” He gestures to a frame.
I relax slightly. Heading up the stairs, I join him on the spacious landing where he’s admiring a photograph of my father and Garrett Graham in their Bruins jerseys, arms thrust up in victory as their teammates celebrate on the ice all around them. This was the first time they won the Stanley Cup together.
“It’s so sick that you’re from, like, hockey royalty,” Clay tells me, stars in his eyes.
“Honestly, I’m not much of a hockey fan,” I admit.
“Bullshit.”
“It’s true. I know everything about the game, but it’s not something I’d put on in my spare time.”
He cocks his head. “So whatdoyou put on in your spare time?”
I shrug. “Sappy movies that make me cry or those reality TV competition shows. And I listen to a lot of podcasts.”
“Do you watch porn?”
Ew. Who asks somebody that?
“Not really,” I say.
He grins. “That’s not a no.”
I grit my teeth and take a step away. “We should go back downstairs.”
He reaches for my hand. “Wait.”
I stifle a sigh. “What?”
“You’re saying you don’t feel this thing between us? We’ve been flirting all day.”
“I mean,you’vebeen flirting all day.”
His eyes flash. “So it was one-sided?”
Yes, I want to snap. My parents encouraged me to always be blunt and clear about my intentions. Don’t leave it up to the other person to guess, my dad always says. If you’re not interested, you’re not interested.
But my father is a man, and he’s never had to deal with drunk dudes whose egos get all bent out of shape when you reject them. It’s a very delicate line you have to walk as a woman.
“Let’s go downstairs,” I repeat.
I blink and both his hands are on my waist, trying to tug me closer. “I think you’re beautiful, Blake.”
“Thank you,” I mutter while swiftly stepping out of his grasp.
“Come on, one kiss.”
“No.”
“Just one—”
He’s suddenly hauled backward, releasing a startled yelp like a puppy that just got kicked.
“She said no.”
I turn to find Wyatt on the landing, his green eyes burning with anger and disgust.
