“I miss you,” she whispers.
The words are like a warm blanket wrapped around me. “I’ve missed you too.”
I let her go, because I’m about to kiss her, and that would create a scene. Then she reaches into her pocket and hands me the key to my car. I don’t move to take it from her. “What did you buy?”
“A bus pass,” she tells me, but before I can argue she adds, “And I used the extra money to rent an apartment in a better area of town. I move next week.”
She dangles the key in front of me again. This time I reach out to take it, and she notices the splint on my left hand. She grasps it softly and our eyes meet. “It’s not a big deal. Just a little sore. Most guys would pop some pain pills and not even notice it.”
“But you won’t?”
“I don’t take pain medication, or any medication if I can avoid it,” I admit to her. “My sister had a drug problem as a teenager and I just…I’m aware it’s a slippery slope.” She looks stunned. I smile. “We have a lot in common, Shay. We just never bothered to find out.”
“You know about Trey.”
I nod. “Avery mentioned it when you were in the bathroom at Jordan’s,” I explain. “I was really hoping you would open up to me about it. You can trust me.”
“I realize that now.” She slowly lifts the sign and shakes it at me with a small smile. “Forgive me, Frenchie?”
I pretend to think about it for a long moment. Avery is almost at the end of the line now, and once he’s gone to the plane I have to as well or else I’ll become the center of attention again. “I think I can give you a chance to win me back.”
She blinks at that, shocked, as her mouth drops a little. When I wink at her she seems to recover. “So there’s another inning left in us?”
I scoff at her use of baseball terminology. “No innings in this game. But I think we may have a third period left to play.”
She smiles, but bites her bottom lip and then warns, “I’m not great at this, as I’ve proven. So I can’t guarantee I won’t end up in the penalty box a few more times.”
I reach up and smooth back a lock of her hair that slipped loose from her braid and tuck it behind her ear. “I might end up in the box too.”
“Yeah, but I like you in the box,” she murmurs with a wicked grin. “As long as it’s mine.”
Our eyes meet. My hand, still by her ear, slides to her neck. “I want to kiss you so badly right now, but…”
“You can’t,” she finishes for me, and then her eyes glance at the other fans, who are mostly still distracted by Avery. When she looks back at me, she’s grinning mischievously. “But I can kiss you.”
She pushes up on her tiptoes, wraps a hand around the back of my neck and presses her lips to mine. She’s not playing either; this is a real kiss. Her lips open and her tongue sweeps over mine, and just when I’m ready to skip the flight and drag her back to my house, she pulls away.
Someone whistles loudly at us, but when I look over, there are only a couple of people who noticed, thankfully. I give them a small smile and turn back to her. “Something to think about when you’re alone in your hotel room.” She winks at me and takes a step back. “Go. Win some hockey.”
I nod and force myself to step away. Avery is beside me now, and he waves at Shayne before saying, “Come on, Romeo.”
I walk away, backward, my eyes still on her until we’re through the doors and she’s out of sight. I swear there are actual sparks in the air between our stares. My feelings for her haven’t smoldered at all. She still lights every possible fire inside me, mentally and physically.
Chapter 46
Shayne
“No!”The scream is unanimous and so loud I hope my new neighbors don’t file a complaint, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they do.
The captain of the San Francisco Thunder, Levi Casco, glides toward his bench, away from Chooch, who is on his knees, his helmeted head hanging down in defeat, and Casco raises his arms in victory. His teammates swarm him, spilling onto the ice from the bench and jumping on top of him.
As the camera pulls back, I scan the dejected Winterhawks players as they skate away from the celebration, toward their bench. I see Sebastian, head hung low, resting his forehead against his stick as he sits on the bench.
I move my eyes from the screen to my guests. Jessie is sitting at the other end of my couch, leaning forward. Her green eyes are glued to the screen and her elbows rest on her knees with her hands covering her mouth. Stephanie is sitting in my Papasan chair in the corner, not looking at the Winterhawks’ defeat. She’s got her head tipped back and her eyes closed with a frown on her face.
“Fuck,” Stephanie whispers to the universe.
“Yeah.” Jessie groans the word more than says it.
