Page 29 of Tough Call

“To be fair, all the teams in the tournament have to do the same thing.”

“True. But a lot of Team Canada and Team USA play with or against each other all the time. So they’re used to each other’s playing styles.”

“Same with Sweden, Russia, and Czechia, but it’s still a challenge.” Madars laughed softly as he picked up his glass. “The playing field is pretty level. The first practice is always a little rough, but after that…” Another half-shrug, and then he sipped his wine. I was far too mesmerized by the sight of him rolling it around in his mouth. What could I say? After the other night, I was much more aware than usual of what that mouth was capable of.

I shifted in my seat, hoping that masked the shiver as goose bumps sprang up along my spine. Then I drank some more wine just to wet my mouth, and I cleared my throat as I met his gaze again. “When is your next game?”

“Tomorrow.” He made a face. “And I have practice too early in the fucking morning, too, plus I’m going to watch some games with my teammates.”

“Ugh.” I stuck out my tongue. “I’ve been spoiled. The earliest puck drop I’ve had to do in the NAL is like one in the afternoon. None of this seven in the morning bullshit.”

Madars laughed, unaware of what that did to my body temperature. “I’ve been spoiled too. Even practices aren’t that early.”

“There’s a coach in North America who has his players on the ice for their morning skates at eight-thirty.” I wrinkled my nose as I brought my wineglass up to my lips. “I don’t know how they haven’t mutinied.”

“They’re probably too tired to mutiny,” he muttered, and I choked on my wine. Of course that just made him laugh, which made the restaurant a few degrees brighter and didn’t help me catch my breath at all. As I finally pulled it together and stopped sputtering, he grinned and asked, “You okay?”

“Yes, but you’re lucky you ordered me white wine.” I paused to clear my throat again. “Since you almost wore it.”

Mischief sparkled in his amazing eyes. “Eh. Worth it.”

I gave him the finger, which made him laugh again. And, okay, that was worth it. Choking on my wine wasn’t pleasant, but I loved his smile, so I could live with it.

Madars went to take another drink, but then frowned into his glass. It was empty. He looked past me and gestured to flag down our server. Evidently satisfied he had her attention, he met my gaze. “More wine?”

I glanced at my own glass, which was almost empty. The smart, professional thing to do would be to decline. I didn’t need two glasses this late at night. I didn’t need to be out this late at all when my I had a game early the next morning.

But I was with Madars. A second glass of wine and more time in his company—absolutely yes.

“Sure.” I smiled as I picked up the glass to finish it. “More wine sounds great.”

He grinned. “Even if I make you choke on it?”

I rolled my eyes and he chuckled.

And yeah, I decided it was worth it, if only because I loved the way this gorgeous man laughed.

“Fuck.” Madars put his phone down and met my gaze with apologetic eyes. “It’s late. We should go.”

My heart sank, but I nodded. We’d been here much longer than I’d expected, and though I wasn’t sure how late restaurants like this stayed open in Prague, they’d probably want to close eventually.

“We should,” I acknowledged. “We’ll probably pay for this tomorrow, but…” I half-shrugged. The words “it was worth it” danced on the tip of my tongue. I held them back, though I wasn’t sure why. Too eager? I didn’t know.

“We’ll pay for it,” he acknowledged with a smile that melted my heart. “But I think it was worth it.”

Well, damn. Maybe I wouldn’t have sounded too eager after all.

“It was,” I croaked, and reached for my glass. Just water now—no more wine. We split the bill, tipped our server, and headed out into the night. I tried to ignore the disappointment coiling in the pit of my stomach. Though we’d been here for almost three hours, our evening had flown by much too fast. He wasn’t even gone yet and I was already itching to be in his company again.

Outside, I intended to go right, which would take us both back toward our hotels. Before I could, though, Madars nudged me to go left. I wasn’t sure why he wanted to go that way, but I went, and⁠—

Oh. Ooh. Now I got it.

In an alley behind the restaurant, away from prying eyes and cameras and streetlights, he shoved me up against the wall and kissed me. Hard.

Fucking hell. I slid my hands up into his thick hair and moaned into his kiss, and he growled low in his throat as he pinned me there. The cold of the night seemed to disappear completely as the heat of Madars’ body enveloped me.

All too soon, he broke away. I couldn’t see his features in the near-total darkness, just a vague outline illuminated by some stray light from the street, but I swore I could feel the hunger in his eyes.