The hand rubbing my arm pauses. Silence fills the space between us. On the brink of me calling him out, he mutters, “Do you want me to lie to you?”
“What woman ever wants to be lied to?”
“Got Derek kicked off the team. Temporarily, at least.”
I pinch him. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
His hand gathers my ponytail and he uses that to tip my head back. Not roughly, but enough that I can’t evade him without a tug-of-war on my hair.
Now’s not the time to make a mental note of that for when we’re messing around.
“Of course I should have done that. He had no right to take it this far.” He presses a kiss to my temple. “I’m sorry, gorgeous.”
“Please, don’t,” I whisper, snuggling deeper into his side. “Or I’ll cry. That’s the last thing I want.”
He hesitates. “Pecan said Darcy Lovell has a party tomorrow.”
“And?”
“He thinks we should go. Says it’d be like something from one of your movies.”
My immediate horror fades at the suggestion. I hate Darcy Lovell, but the idea definitely hasNever Been Kissedmerit.
I so feel for Josie Grossie when those jerks egged her.
“What do you t-think?”
This guy—I swear.
Goes and raises hell with his team over me, gets the competitive motherfuckers tolose, potentially ruins his chances in the draft, but then stutters over asking me out to a party.
“I think it sounds like hell but that we should do it.”
His grin beams from him. “You do?”
“Have you missed going to parties?”
“Not particularly. I like going to some, but you don’t hit the NHL by partying like a lunatic. And I already admitted I was drinking too much. Mostly, I use them to keep in with the team.”
“What do you mean?”
“Politics. I don’t want them to think I’m a dick.”
“You are a dick though.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“There’s no shame in that, Zach. Look, as much as I like some of them, they’re playing for funsies. The game isn’t their future. They’re holding onto it as long as they can before real life and real bills beckon. Then, when they graduate, they’ll go work for their dads’ hedge funds and boast about the days they played on the ice withtheZach Bradley and Pecan Canard.
“You two are in it for keeps. They’re not. If they want to get drunk and do drugs and party, that’s on them. You have different goals.”
“Doesn’t mean camaraderie on and off the ice isn’t an issue.” He settles back into the couch with a yawn. “Especially at the moment. It’s fine. You’re right. I know you are. That’s why I’ve slowed down. But after tonight’s game… they pulled out all the stops for us.”
A wicked, wicked thought whispers into my fragile confidence. “You’re not not going to parties because you don’t want to be seen with me, right?”
“What?!” He jerks upright, literally launching himself off the damn couch so he can loom over me. “Are you insane?”
“I’ve seen the girls you… well, didn’t date, Zach. They’re not me.”
