Page 73 of Securing the Pucking Rebound

Her eyes burn into me as I hobble away, and just before I turn to the bathrooms, I look back over my shoulder, catching her red-handed.

Her eyes widen at the same time her mouth drops open.

I hold her eyes for a beat, letting her see exactly what I want before continuing forward, no doubt leaving her thinking about me.

I make quick work of doing my business and getting back out there, and when I walk toward the table, I find Sienna is tapping away on her cell.

“Messaging Bea to let her know you’re alive?” I tease as I rejoin her.

“Uh…” she starts, placing her cell screen-down on the table, “No, actually. I’m…tracking my calories.”

“Fair enough. It’s probably for the best that you don’t ask how much sugar is in some of the sauces,” I advise.

Sienna grimaces.

As a professional athlete, I’m no stranger to tracking what I eat, making sure I hit all my macros daily. I’m sure it’s something many women do, but considering I don’t usually hang around long enough to have a meaningful conversation, I’d never know if any of those I’ve hooked up with do it.

“Is that something you always do?” I ask, taking a sip of the new beer that was delivered while I was gone.

“Yeah, on and off since I was a teenager. But it gets hard when life is busy, and I soon feel the side effects.”

“Since you were a teenager?” I ask, curious.

She shakes her head, her eyes losing their sparkle momentarily.

“Yeah, I had some issues with a couple of girls in middle school. Their bullying left a lasting impact, I guess.”

“That’s bullshit. You were perfect,” I blurt in anger before thinking.

Sienna’s eyes widen, and she sits back as if I just reached out and struck her.

“Are. You are perfect.” I don’t know why I say it. She’s made it more than clear that she doesn’t appreciate any man’s opinion about her body. But that summer was right before she started middle school, and there was zero reason for her to be bullied because of it. “They were probably just jealous.”

“Hmm,” she mumbles, not believing a word of it. “I started cheerleading not long after, and thankfully, they went to a different high school.”

“Good,” I state. “What do you do now?”

“What do you mean?”

“For exercise?”

“Oh, nothing. I learned that I hate exercise as an adult.” She laughs. “Hence keeping an eye on what I eat. Anything to keep me out of the gym. If I’m feeling enthusiastic, I might go horse riding. But I haven’t been for years.”

My heart slams against my ribs at the mention of something we did together that summer. I can’t help but wonder if she’s figured it out, if she’s testing me, but when nothing else follows, I mutter, “Fair enough. I know you don’t want to hear it, but whatever you’re doing, it’s working for you.”

Her cheeks heat, letting me know that she isn’t as opposed to hearing a compliment as she might think.

“Thanks,” she mumbles before taking a sip of her drink.

Long before I’m ready, the second period starts, forcing my attention away from Sienna, and no sooner has it finished than our meals arrive, slowing down any conversation we might have had before the game restarts again.

By the time the game is over, it’s only confirmed in my mind that no amount of time with Sienna will be enough.

Fifteen years ago, I wanted more, and absolutely nothing has changed.

22

SIENNA