She’s quiet on the car ride over, flipping stations on my Sirius XM satellite radio until she comes across some AC/DC and then she cranks it. I smile. “Back in Black” isn’t my idea of morning music, but she’s smiling and singing along, and that I like. I make a quick left into the Dunkin Donuts parking lot and get into the drive-thru line. She turns down the radio and looks at me. I ignore her and order two large coffees and a toasted blueberry bagel with strawberry cream cheese.
“You need a coffee,” I tell her. “You barely got any sleep last night.”
She rolls her eyes. “Are you my dad or my bed buddy?”
Bed buddy?
“Neither,” I say pointedly. “I want to be much more to you.”
The amusement on her face disappears, and I want to say more, but the guy in front of me has moved on and it’s our turn at the window. The girl working is about eighteen or nineteen with long blond hair in a big ponytail sticking out the back of her hat and too much makeup. She glances up at us and starts to repeat the order, but stops.
“Sebastian Deveau. Oh. My. God. You’re Sebastian Deveau!”
“Hi.” I smile and give her a little awkward wave. She turns scarlet and smiles.
“Oh my God. Seriously?!” She’s almost squealing. I laugh and glance at Shayne, who is watching the scene from behind her sunglasses, and even with half her face covered I can tell she’s confused. But she won’t be for long. Fuck. This is probably the worst way for her to find out what I do for a living, but I’m trapped. I can’t stop this from happening. So I take a deep breath and look back at the girl. She’s completely flustered.
“Sorry! It’s just you’re my favorite player,” she gushes. “My brother wants to play for the Winterhawks one day. He’s at University of Washington on a hockey scholarship right now. We love watching you play.”
“Thanks. You’re very sweet. Tell your brother I wish him luck. Umm…how much was my order again?”
She shakes her head, further embarrassed. “Nothing. It’s on me.”
She hands me a bag with the bagel and then the two coffees and for the first time she realizes there’s someone else in the car. Her eyes move up and down Shay and it’s easy to see she’s judging her. She might as well hold up a scorecard with a number out of ten on it. If it was me, Shayne would get a perfect ten, but something tells me this girl doesn’t see it that way.
“I can’t let you pay,” I say with an easy grin.
“No. I want to! You can get me back one day,” she suggests happily and lowers her eyes, batting her big mascara-covered lashes in an attempt to be flirty. I glance at Shayne, who is now staring at me openmouthed.
“You’re a hockey player.” She whispers this so only I can hear, and it’s filled with confusion—and contempt? Yeah, this is going to go as badly as I thought it would. Fuck.
“You can buy me a drink at the bar or something,” the cashier girl suggests excitedly. “My girlfriends and I have fake IDs and we like to go bar hopping. Do you ever go to Liberty or The Sunset? I heard you do.”
Hell no, my brain screams. I glance at Shay, who is still staring at me; her hand holding the coffee I gave her is just hanging there, frozen, in midair. Her free hand rests on the console between us. I cover it with my own hand, immediately lacing our fingers together.
“That’s so sweet of her, isn’t it, baby?” I ask Shay, and then reach up and pull her hand to my mouth and kiss her knuckles. I turn back to the Dunkin girl. “Thanks. Do you want me to sign anything or something?”
“Ahhh…” She’s been thrown off by the show of affection I just gave Shayne. Thrown off and probably heartbroken. Whatever. She’ll get over it. She leans over and gives me a pen and asks me to sign the receipt from my order. I ask her name and sign it.To Amy. Thanks for my morning coffee. Sebastian Deveau #8.Shay watches me sign and I swear I hear her whisper, “Oh God, no.”
I hand it back to Amy and give her a big smile before covering Shayne’s hand with my own and driving away. As soon as we’re back on the street, Shay yanks her hand away.
“What the hell, Frenchie!” she bellows. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re a hockey player?”
She’s mad, but worse than that, she looks betrayed. Damn. I start to scramble for a way to fix this or, at the very least, minimize the damage. “I was going to mention it at some point, I swear.”
“Really? When?”
“Soon,” I promise and then I can’t help but add, “I’m honestly surprised you didn’t know.”
“How would I know?”
“Because everyone knows,” I say with a shrug.
“No. Not everyone knows,” she argues back. “Does Audrey know? Audrey can’t know.”
“Audrey probably knows,” I counter and slow to a stop at a red light. “I mean Josh knows. He’s a huge fan and he works with my financial advisor. Also your boss, Trey, he probably knows. My team’s captain is his ‘stupid hockey player friend,’ as you put it the other night.”
“I have to go,” she states flatly and starts to open the door to the car. The light has turned green and I’m letting the car roll forward, about to hit the gas. But when I realize she’s going to get out even if I’m moving, I quickly yank the car to a spot at the curb in front of a fire hydrant.
