I am, however, mildly confused as to why it’s there. He’s so far out of my league, it’s borderline pathetic. Just looking at him ruins all other men for me, and we’ve done nothing but talk.
“Oh. That’s… well, that’s an interesting proposal.”
“It’s tickets to a game, not an engagement ring.” He shoots me a lazy grin.
Warmth creeps up my neck and into my cheeks. Though I take a step back to create some space between us, I keep my chin lifted and my tone nonchalant. “Are drinks included with these tickets?”
“Are you negotiating your attendance?”
“If I was, my lawyer would be here.” I cross my arms over my chest in mock defiance. “Although if you are open to negotiations, I wouldn’t mind if nachos were on the table as well.”
He licks his lips, those amber eyes glinting. “If I provide you not only with seats but with nachos and unlimited alcohol, you’ll come to the game? It’s a private box, by the way.”
I bite my lower lip as I pretend to think about it. All the while, my heart is leaping all over the place. Eventually, I nod once.
“I’ve never had to convince someone to attend a hockey game.” He runs a hand through his hair, his expression full of humor.
“You’ve also never read alien smut,” I point out.
This earns me a laugh that makes me melt like a stick of butter. It’s official. I’m a puddle on the floor.
While Cole doesn’t purchase the book he originally picked up, he does buy a collector’s edition ofGrimm’s Complete Fairy Tales. It’s a beautifully designed tome, with bonded-leather binding and distinctive gilt edging, so I make sure to wrap it carefully.
The moment he exits the shop, I power-walk—because I refuse to run unless I’m being chased—to the back of the store and video call Kennedy.
Her pearly white teeth fill half the screen almost instantaneously. There’s a smudge of flour or baking powder on her left cheek and her honey-blond hair is tied up in a messy bun. My best friend only succumbs to the messy bun look when she’s in the throes of a new recipe. As her favorite test subject, I’d usually ask what she’s working on, but my mind is too preoccupied.
“Guess who just showed up at the store?” Before she can answer, I hold up my hand. “It’s rhetorical, Kennedy. You know Cole showed up here because you told him where I worked.”
Eyes dancing, she licks some type of batter off a spoon. “It wasn’t rhetorical because I didn’t know he’d do that. And technically I didn’t tell him. I merely passed along some basic info on where, when, and how to find ‘someone named Maya’ when asked.”
“You cannot just?—”
“Don’t get mad at me for hyping you up as any good bestie would.” She flashes me a smile that’s anything but innocent.
After twenty years of friendship, I know this look all too well. She gave it to me when we met on the first day of second grade, when she tried to charm me into trading erasers—her green one for my sparkly purple one. It was obviously a shit deal. Even eight-year-old me knew that. I told her to shove it up her ass in a way that was much more age appropriate. Her response? She giggled and announced we were best friends. We have been ever since. Although I’m debating the merit of such friendship right about now.
“He gave me tickets to his game,” I tell her, not bothering to hide the utter skepticism in my voice. “They’re box seats.”
I can’t figure out his angle. Is it because I said I didn’t like hockey? Or that I didn’t fall all over myself when I realized what he does for a living? I’ve been told by almost every ex that I’m ball-breakingly stubborn, so maybe he sees me as a challenge and is trying to break through my indifference just to prove he can.
“Anything else? Did he ask you for a kidney? Threaten to throw you out of a window? Trick you into giving him your social security number?”
Frowning, I zero in on her. “Well, uh, no.”
“Then stop being so suspicious.”
“Yeah, but?—”
“No buts.” She levels me with a look that means she’s not fucking around. “He wants to get to know you better. Let him. It’s a damn hockey game. Nothing more, nothing less. Bring your brother and enjoy the VIP experience.”
After a pregnant pause, I sigh, exhaling the questions still floating around in my head. “Fine. But I’m bringing a book in case I get bored.”
The tension drops away from the corners of her eyes. Chuckling under her breath, she says, “I’d be worried if you didn’t.”
CHAPTER THREE
maya
