She outshines everyone in this world.
The words fall from my lips without thinking.
“Do you want to come to one of my games sometime?”
Her eyes widen slightly. “What?”
“I know you hate hockey, but I want to try and change that for you.” A smile tugs on my lips. “I’d love to know you’re there in the stands.”
She lifts her brows, a smirk dancing across her face. “So, it’s about you. You just want to know someone is there to show off in front of.”
“Yeah,” I lie, nodding. “It’s all about me.”
It’s not, though. It’s not that simple and I don’t even fully understand it. I don’t want to show off to her; I just want her there.
I want her to not hate the one thing I love.
“I get two free tickets for every home game. You can bring a friend if you want.”
“Really?” Her face lights up. “I’m not a huge fan of hockey, but I think I could stomach it for a night.”
A soft laugh vibrates in my chest. “You think so?”
Her eyes shimmer beneath the light as she stares back at me. “For you? Yeah.”
My heart stumbles inside my chest. Jade gets up from her seat and cleans up all the trash. She turns back to me, walking to stand on the opposite side of the island.
“I’m sure Ellie will come.”
I lift my drink, slowly taking a sip as I trace the freckles across the bridge of her nose. “She single?”
Her eyes narrow, as if she’s assessing me. “Yeah…why?”
Fuck, there it is. The rigidity in her spine, the darkness consuming those blue eyes. Her gaze is locked on mine, as if she’s contemplating whether or not she should pounce. Is she jealous?
I’m under her skin—right where I want to be.
“Just curious,” I say with a simple shrug. “I don’t know much about her.”
“Not much to know,” she counters, her voice tense. The muscle in her jaw tightens. “She’s not your type.”
I love her like this. Claws out, ready to attack. “What’s my type?”
“Not her,” she quips.
“Right.” I shake my head, chuckling. “So, what do you say? You gonna come?”
Her eyes narrow, assessing and calculating. “I’ll come, but only if you promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“Show off to me and not to her.”
My brow furrows. “To who? Your friend?” I shake my head, chuckling. “Oh, Sunny. Don’t you know? You’re the only one whose attention I want.”
A smile pulls on her lips, slow and satisfied. The hues of blue shift in her eyes as she seems to relax again. “Good.”
My phone vibrates and I pull it out. It’s a message from our assistant coach, Nathan Frost.
