Page 7 of Deking at Love
He looked at her as if he couldn’t decide how to respond or what to say.Sam Durbin tongue-tied in her presence?When had that ever happened?She’d always been an afterthought, except that one night when he’d been nothing but silver-tongued smoothness.
In the end, he adjusted his crutches and headed for the door.The best thing would have been to let him maneuver his way out so he could get used to the motion and dealing with obstacles like doors, but she couldn’t hold back.She walked beside him and held the door for him.
When he cleared the doorway, he turned partway.A ghost of a smile played over his lips.“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
As she watched his back retreat toward the elevators, she puffed out a breath that hit her hairline.
Chapter 3
New Normal
Unbelievable.Samhadnotonly survived his startling reunion with Angie Rossi, but he’d come out of it with his balls intact.And goddamn, she was even more beautiful than he remembered.She’d also filled out in all the right places—not that she’d been lacking before.Nope, even though six years had passed, his memory was crystal clear on how plush those curves had felt under his fingertips.
Jesus H.Christ, this was going to be torture.
She’d teased him a little with theStar Warsreference, so maybe there was hope they could find some neutral ground.His optimistic heart dared believe they could even be friends, like they’d been beforethatnight—the night he’d given her his jersey only to strip it off her in his hotel room later.A night he’d never been able to stuff into a gear bag and shove to the back of his mind’s closet, though he’d tried his damnedest.
A few girlfriends had come and gone since her, and though he wasn’t proud to admit it, he’d had no problem moving on.Hockey always came first, which was probably why no relationship had ever stuck.So why couldn’t he leave memories of Angie behind as easily?
She hadn’t been a girlfriend.She’d been a friend who turned into one amazing, unforgettable night.During all the years that had passed, he had never thought of her as a one-night stand, though she probably didn’t know that.They had history, common threads that wove their lives together.To be precise, they shared one bombastic common thread named Brianna.
Yeah, that didn’t bode well for him either.
The way he’d walked away from Angie hadn’t been so different from how a teammate might treat a hookup on the road, though.He flinched inside at the recall.In his defense, that hadn’t been his intention when his alcohol-soaked brain had let down its defenses and given him permission to do what he’d wanted to do for a long time.The fact that his desire for her had been simmering inside him made him an asshole because she’d been his steady’s best friend, though until that night, he hadn’t realized the attraction had been there all along.So maybe he wasn’t atotalasshole.
Yeah, you are.Walking out on Angie that night proved it beyond a reasonable doubt.
Fuck.
He needed to get through this injury and get back on the ice as soon as possible, for so many reasons—including getting away from Angie and the uncomfortable memories she stirred up.
Time for a distraction.The one he chose was playingAssassin’s Creed Shadowson his PS5.Not a great solution for the memory fog he was after, so when his phone lit up, he was easily pulled away.The name flashing on his screen made his heart thunk in his chest.He blew out a breath, dreading the call while at the same time oddly grateful it channeled his ricocheting thoughts away from the girl he’d left behind.
He paused the game.“Hey, Dad.How’s it going?”
“I watched your game last night.How’s the injury?”
Okay, let’s just jump right into it.“High ankle sprain.I started PT this morning.”Sam reached down and adjusted the gel pack.Damn, that thing was cold.
“That’s a tough break, son.I’m sorry to hear it.”
Sam felt his hopes sink.“It’s not the end of my career.”
“No, of course not.It’s just … Well, hopefully the team will go deep, and you’ll have your shot at the playoffs.If not, there’s next year.”
Maybe there’s next, and maybe not.“Yeah, hopefully.How areyou, though?”
“Eh, I’m doing what they tell me.They say I’m getting better.We’ll see.”
“I wish I could come see you.Or have you come see me.”
“We’ll get there, son.Don’t worry, okay?You need to focus on healing that ankle.”
And you need to not worry about me and focus on your own health.
“You had a really good game,” his dad encouraged.Of course he did.He was Sam’s biggest cheerleader, especially after he had picked up the slack for Mom.
“Thanks.I just wish I’d had my head on a bigger swivel.I might have avoided the collision.”
