I nod and explain my oh-so crappy gifts so far. He’s doubling over as we enter the elevator, and I have to hit the button for both of us. His laugh bounces off all the walls as the doors close and we descend. “Cucumber of the month? How did he know that was even a thing?”
“He’s a smart cookie,” I smile despite myself. Then I think of how his mouth felt all dominant and needy against my own and I start to flush again. Xavier, also a smart cookie, notices.
His smile turns heavier and more inquisitive. “This is more than just a Secret Santa Face-Off isn’t it?”
“Of course not,” I say airily. Too airily. My voice is too high and my shoulders shrug too quickly and now Xavier is really curious.
“Hmm…”
“Do not ‘hmm’ me!” I warn him, like I’ve got some moral high ground here, which I certainly do not. Nolan Duggan, the Comets Grinch, was seconds away from slipping his fingers into my panties last night, and I was disappointed when it didn’t happen.
Xavier lifts his hands like I’m a cop with a gun. “Okay. Okay. But I really do believe that you two need to talk. Like, honestly and candidly about why you love Christmas so much and why he hates it, and I bet you’d both be glad you did it.”
His rugged face grows serious, and he rests a friendly hand on my shoulder. “He’s a really good guy. Honestly, I know people don’t see that side of him much, but he is. Did you know he is fostering a kitten? He found it behind his apartment building, half frozen to death with a severe eye infection.”
“What?” My hand raises to my chest and my mouth falls open. “Is it going to be okay?”
“Because of Nolan, yeah,” Xavier nods. “He’s paid for all its medical bills, he was waking up every four hours to feed it when it was really tiny, and he has a cat sitter that costs more than most babysitters when we’re at away games. He swears he’s not keeping it, just giving it a place to squat because the shelters are full. But I think he wants to keep it. He just isn’t willing to admit it because then he’s vulnerable. Nolan hates opening himself up.”
I swear I let out an audible sigh. It’s the kind of sigh a star struck fan lets out in the front row of a concert. Yeah, it’s embarrassing and a dead giveaway that Xavier doesn’t miss. His hand hits my shoulder again and he leans in close and smiles. “He’s a good guy if you feel like calling a truce and giving him a chance.”
The elevator lands on the ice level and opens just as Xavier is finishing that sentence, and the doors open. Nolan is striding by, dressed in workout gear. He turns his head slightly to glance at whoever is in the elevator, but when he sees it’s us, he stops dead in his tracks. He looks us both over, his amber colored eyes holding for a second longer than necessary on Xavier’s hand on my shoulder. Something flickers across his features like he smelled something foul.
He’s jealous? The thought sends a ripple of heat swirling through my belly. I don’t like jealous men, but if Nolan doesn’t like Xavier touching me it can only mean that he likes me, right? That thought is something that I shouldn’t like, but I do. A lot. His eyes finally land on mine, briefly, but long enough that I feel another ripple of heat. Then Nolan looks at Xavier. “You’re late.”
“Don’t you worry about me, Duggan,” Xavier replies, and there’s a slight taunting tone in his voice I don’t like. He gives my shoulder a small squeeze before sauntering off toward the locker room. I step off too, and the elevator doors slide shut behind me. Nolan hasn’t moved. He’s in the hall, staring me down in a blue Comets tank top that puts his gloriously big arms on display. I’ve never seen a tattoo on him anywhere. He’s one of the only guys that doesn’t have visible ink. There’s a rumor online with the puck bunnies that he has a hidden tattoo somewhere because no one can believe a tough, bold, grump like him could be ink-less. And of course a bunch of girls have volunteered to find out if he has one, by getting naked with him, but Martine quickly deletes those comments off our social media accounts. As we stare at each other now, I can’t help but think that I would volunteer as tribute for that as well.
He steps forward, and I hold my breath.
“You looking to kiss Oakes under the mistletoe next?”
I blink. “What?”
“Maybe you should tie some up in the elevator and ride it up and down and you can kiss all of us eventually.” Is he fucking serious right now?
“Stop being a jealous little bitch,” I hiss under my breath so only he can hear. Our eyes connect, and I swear if someone else was in the hall right now, they would have grabbed the fire extinguisher against the wall. There have got to be visible sparks between us and not the good kind. These are all anger, no lust in sight. “If I wanted Xavier, I would have made a move by now. I’ve been here over a year and—brace yourself—not all men are repulsed by me. Now please don’t talk to me again unless it’s about the Santa outfit you’re going to be wearing soon.”
I storm off, shoulders back and trying to appear strong and brave, but really, I wish I could just cry. Does he really think I would flirt with Xavier? Less than twenty-four hours after I was groping and kissing him?
Luckily, Phil is waiting for me when I walk into his small therapy room so I don’t have a chance to dwell on how shitty Nolan made me feel. “Let’s take a look at that wrist, Felicity.”
I smile and nod and push Nolan from my brain. When I get out of the trainer’s room, the hallway is empty. It’s also very quiet, and the door to the small conference room they use to review footage from previous games is closed. I assume the team is in there, so I take the opportunity to dart over to Nolan’s locker. I dig my hand into my oversized purse to find his next Secret Santa gift. I bought it before the kiss, and I was warring with myself on whether or not to give it to him now. But that debate was settled when he reacted like a cave-man twenty minutes ago.
I place the gift on the little shelf above his warm up clothes and march back up to my office without looking back.
Chapter 11
Nolan
Luckily, the guys had all left before I noticed the oblong thing wrapped in white paper peppered with cartoon Rudolphs. I pull it down from the cubby she placed it in and examine it. It’s soft, like a towel or clothing except for the hard round thing wrapped separately and taped on top. I stare at it and think back to running into Felicity in the hallway earlier. If I really was Santa Claus, I would totally give myself a lump of coal for how I acted.
When those elevator doors opened and revealed her standing there huddled close to Xavier and he was touching her…something in me just snapped. I’d rather dress up as Santa Claus or get glitter thrown in my face every day for the rest of my life over seeing Felicity looking close and flirty with a teammate. I didn’t realize that was the base root of what triggered me when I said all the stupidest things humanly possible to her, but it was. I enjoyed that kiss last night more than I’ve enjoyed anything in a long time, and deep down for me, it was a beginning to something more. Seeing her with someone else was a rude awakening that, number one, it might not happen again, and number two, she might not want it to.
Maybe the gift would give me a clear idea of what she is thinking. Did she enjoy our mistletoe moment as much as I did? Is she interested in me, in moving past our differences, like I suddenly am? I unwrap the larger, softer gift first. As the paper falls away I stare at what appears to be a black, rolled up piece of clothing. A T-shirt maybe? I unravel it and stare at it. I read the words printed across the chest of the shirt over and over.
Duct Tape. It Can’t Fix Stupid But It Can Muffle The Sound.
I unwrap the round, hard thing even though I really don’t have to. I know what it is. It is a roll of duct tape and there’s a sticky note attached to it. The writing is clean, pretty cursive.
