A quiet awkwardness settled in, the only sound the rapid beating of my heart echoing in my eardrums. As I rubbed my arms, I allowed a daring good look at the man. With his parka hood shoved away, I was given a beautiful shot of his thick, completely disheveled hair. The image of him rolling out of bed in the morning floated across my mind.
Oops.
Including that he was naked.
Oh, I was such a bad girl. As soon as heat drifted across my neck, rising ever so slowly toward my chin, I pressed one hand against my face. Completely embarrassed. Especially since whendropping my head I noticed the thick bulge between his legs. Correction, huge bulge. As in no man was that large.
If they were, how would something so big fit into something so… tight?
And what the hell was I thinking?
Okay, so the last time I’d had sex was in nineteen fifty-five. Or at least it felt like it. Maybe because the experience had been less than memorable.
“Let’s do it in the car, honey,”he’d said.
Oh, why not try something different since the typical two-minute missionary style had become boring after day one.
That had led to,“We can’t do this. My leg has a cramp.”
His, not mine.
At least he’d proven he wasn’t agile in the least. Fortunately, not long after that I’d discovered why he hadn’t been that interested in me. He’d been boning the teacher in the classroom next to me. The one whose house I’d been at more than once for girls’ night out.
Yeah, another reason I’d left Jacksonville. Maybe I should have left the state instead of just the city.
Whoever the mystery Zamboni driver was, he was tall, muscular, and rock solid.
“You sure we can’t have a drink?” His wide grin highlighted two perfect dimples on either cheek.
I reminded myself that with what I might be about to go through all over again, finding time or energy to have a guy in my lifewasn’t the best idea. Not even one who was rivaling every Greek god in the heavens.
“Thanks for the offer, but I need to go.” I turned away on purpose, skating slowly toward the locker rooms.
“You can’t let a guy down.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I could be something special. At least my mom thinks I am.”
“Your mom thinks you’re a troublemaker.”
He shrugged. “She doesn’t know my suave moves.”
Laughing, I shook my head. “Now, see, when a guy acts like he’s all that and a bag of chips, that’s a huge turn-off.”
“Does that mean you don’t like hockey players?” His eyebrows were knitted together.
“I think that’s fair to say. From what I’ve seen, they’re all dominating boys who demand respect and for women to fall at their feet, which is something I refuse to do. They’re nothing but egotistical jerks who prefer perfect little… Ugh, faces and bodies that one day will need thousands of dollars of plastic surgery if they aren’t already getting it now. You know, big boobs and a tummy tuck every other year.”
“Ouch. I didn’t know hockey players were that bad.”
“Oh, my guess is they’re worse. Anyway, just because I skate doesn’t mean I prefer alpha dudes with attitudes the sizes of their big fat heads.”
His eyes opened wide and another awkward moment settled in. “So, are you a professional? Skater, I mean? That sounded terrible.”
“Ha,” I threw over my shoulder. “I wish. And I knew what you meant.” He was almost adorable when he was bashful. Honestly, after the last men I’d dated, bashful sounded good right about now.
“Well, you look like it. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime.”
