I step up beside her, clearing my throat so she hears me over the soft strains of music and the loud hum of conversation from the table. Christ, I haven't been this nervous since…ever, actually. I have never been this nervous. What the fuck is that about?
I play in front of packed arenas constantly. I talk to the press weekly. Women flirt daily. And not once have my hands ever been this sweaty. I've never felt this jittery, either, not even after coming off the ice after a shutout.
Tia glances over at me, and I realize her eyes aren't blue at all. They're this startling shade of gray I've never seen before.
Fucking hell, she's beautiful, the kind of curvy that just overflows everywhere—her tits, her stomach, her hips. It's sexy as hell.
I stand there for a long moment, just staring at her. So long that it's obvious. Judging by the furrow between her brows, it's also annoying her.Shit.
"Hey," I finally mutter.
She arches a brow at me. "Hey."
"You're Kingston's sister?"
Smooth, Ward. Real fucking smooth.
"And you're Harlan's brother."
"Right." I grimace. This is a disaster. When the fuck did my brain stop functioning? Striking up a conversation is never this hard. Hell, most people wish I'd stop talking most of the time. And yet…here we are. "You're far more beautiful than he is."
She blinks at me. "What?"
Maybe I shouldn't have said that.
"I said they look beautiful together, don't they?" I lie, nodding at the photos of Harlan and Sophie in an act of sheer desperation. "Happy."
"Ah…yeah, they do," she says softly, eyeing me sideways.
"You're the Maid of Honor, right?" I ask before she puts two and two together and realizes that's absolutely not what I said.
"I am," she says slowly. "Why?"
"We're paired up for the ceremony."
"Oh." The furrow between her brow eases slightly, and then she cocks her head to the side. "Can I ask you a question?"
"You can ask me anything." She eyes me oddly again, and I realize I should probably stop talking, but I fucking can't. Now that I've started, my mouth won't stop moving. Jesus Christ. If Tye hears about this, he's never letting me live it down. "Anything at all."
"I know why I'm the Maid of Honor," she says after a moment, "but why are you the Best Man?"
A surprised bark of laughter bursts from my lips, my nervousness vanishing in the face of her bluntness. "I heard you didn't like hockey players, but damn. Am I that bad?"
She cringes, her cheeks turning pink. "I didn't mean it like that," she says quickly, and then she blinks. "Wait. You heard I don't like hockey players?"
"That's what the grapevine said." I take a sip of beer. "Interesting take for someone with a brother who plays professionally, by the way."
"Why is the grapevine talking about me?"
"You didn't deny it."
"And you didn't answer the question."
"That's for me to know," I tease, smirking at her.
Her blush deepens, spreading down her throat and onto her chest. I want to follow it with my tongue and see how far it extends. But I'm guessing she'd probably slap me for that, so I don't even try.
"Kingston annoys you that much, huh?" I ask instead.
