Ty smirks at our horny teammate and turns back to me. “So you’re not going to sow your wild oats?”
“Nah. Even if I didn’t have to keep it clean, I would. It’s just who I am,” I admit, and reach for my jersey hanging on the hook behind me.
“So if you’re not going to date indiscriminately,” Ty begins as he levels me with a curious stare that’s fringed with a knowing smile, “who are you going to date discriminately?”
“I might have someone in mind,” I mutter quietly. Even admitting that gives me a rush of adrenaline.
“Someone I know, I’m guessing.”
“Yeah,” I reply, and swallow. “If she’d be interested.”
Ty doesn’t say anything, but he smiles at me, and it’s reassuring, so I smile back.
“Are you two done with your hen session or should we leave the two of you to eat chocolate and talk about your periods while we go warm up?” Larue asks with a goofy grin.
“Shut the fuck up, Rue,” I bark with a smile. Alex flips me the bird, but he’s smiling too.
I hurry to finish dressing and try to keep my mind off Stephanie. When I first met Stephanie, years ago in Seattle, I was instantly attracted to her. She’s tall and lithe with amazing blue eyes and a warm, sexy smile. But like every other woman I found attractive, I did nothing about it.
With Steph, though, it was more than just the media and my image keeping me away—it was the fact that she was a teammate’s sister. That was a can of worms unto itself, one that was far messier than protecting my image. Seb was overly protective of her too. It was subtle, but I always caught the way he kept an eye on her at team events or parties and how he called her all the time from road trips and insisted she live at his house when he was away. Once Alex had drunkenly hit on her in front of Seb, and Deveau flat out threatened his life.
Ignoring my attraction to her was easy for a long time—until suddenly it wasn’t. That started one night when we were all at Jordan and Jessie Garrison’s house right before play-offs last year. My college friend Trey had opened a gym and wanted me to give him an endorsement by doing a radio spot. I knew I probably wasn’t going to stay in Seattle after my contract expired so I shouldn’t give him an endorsement, but I also knew I owed him one because I’d bailed on him in college when he got injured and developed a drug problem.
Stephanie basically forced me into explaining everything to my teammates. And while everyone else was trying to forgive my actions, or at least come to terms with them, Stephanie held me accountable. She didn’t care how good I was at hockey or how much money I made or how many advertising deals I had: she told me I was handling things like an ass. It was actually some weird kind of relief to have someone treat me like a normal person, and also the hottest thing any woman had ever done.
After that it was much harder to deny my attraction to her. I found myself going out of my way to spend time with her. Running into her by accident on purpose at coffee shops near her place and jogging in the park near her house because I knew she did that too. But it was stupid and short-lived. We lost in the first round of the play-offs and I went back home to New Brunswick knowing I would never be back in Seattle as a player, and that meant the last time I would see her would be at Jordan and Jessie’s wedding. When I saw her at that wedding, my feelings for her were stronger than ever. I was about to tell her—and kiss her—when that damn canoe flipped. The next morning she was gone.
I went home, frustrated and confused, and met Lizzie shortly after at a barbeque in Dieppe, my hometown. I wanted to like her because I was just so desperate to have something with someone, since I couldn’t have what I wanted with Steph. And Liz made it easy to like her. She was sweet and kind and very easy on the eyes. I wanted to be over Stephanie. Lizzie was an easy fit, a perfect solution; even my father—the man who had been adamantly against me having a public relationship—seemed okay with her. He never once gave me the “you’re a public figure” lecture the whole time I was with her.
Then late one night I was too stressed out about all the contract offers and uncertainty about my career and I couldn’t sleep. I found myself calling Sebastian. I told myself I was just catching up with an old teammate and friend, but the second question out of my mouth was “How’s Stephanie?” That’s when Sebastian told me she had moved to San Diego.
The next day I asked my agent to ask the Saints if they would be interested in making me an offer. By the end of that week I’d signed with San Diego, broken things off with Liz and started packing, all to the sound track of my father screaming that I ruined my career.
Since being here in San Diego, my confidence has wavered more than a balloon in the wind. Stephanie is giving off mixed signals. One minute I’m convinced she wants me the way I want her and then—boom—she shuts down, not returning my texts, turning down my offers to hang out. So that’s why, two months after I stepped foot in California, we are still just friends—and neighbors. But I haven’t given up hope. I tried that once—giving up on her—and tried to date someone else and that didn’t work. So I am going to keep trying.
There are so many things about Stephanie that draw me to her in ways I never expected. Stephanie is opinionated, loves sarcasm and speaks the truth to me, whether it is what I want to hear or not. My father had told me, from the minute I hit puberty, that I didn’t like women like that. He explained that I needed a woman who was passive and demure and didn’t get in the way. And that’s what Lizzie was, which is why I knew that wasn’t what I wanted.
I loved hanging out with Steph as much as, and in the same way, I liked hanging out with the guys. Except I thought about her naked and, on long road trips, I often satisfied myself to that taboo fantasy. But, honestly, her mixed signals are probably because, even if she is attracted to me, she is too smart to get involved in the façade of a life I have to live.
So the question is, can I find a way to convince Stephanie I am worth it?
Chapter 4
Stephanie
“You’re kidding, right?” Avery stares at me blankly, just blinking his pretty coffee-colored eyes in what seems to be a mixture of dismay and awe.
“Not kidding. Now put on your big boy pants and hop on,” I tell him with an amused smile.
“Where’s Ty?” he asks, looking around like his friend and teammate will suddenly appear and save his manhood.
“He’s with Maddie. They’re already at Hamilton’s.”
Avery is totally horrified. His reaction’s the exact response I’ve been expecting from any male I would ask to hop on the back of my scooter. I get it, I guess. I mean it is going to look hysterical for me to have a two-hundred-pound tough guy hanging off the back of my candy-apple-red Vespa.
“Avery, you can either man up and hop on or spend hours trying to get a cab on a busy Friday night. You decide.”
He sighs loudly and runs a hand through his freshly washed hair, which is still damp at the tips, then takes a defeated step toward my bike. He extends his hand for the extra helmet. I smile triumphantly.
