Page 56 of Game Misconduct

Nick’s gaze pings between us. “What’s going on?”

“You’re driving me home, since my meddling friend is a meddling busybody. You’ve met Ceci, she was at Elsy’s wedding.”

A storm cloud crosses his face. I wonder why.

“Nice to meet you again,” he says, offering his hand. “Do you need a ride, too?”

“I’m good.” She hiccups as she shakes his. “Pablo will take care of me.”

“Sure will,” the hipster cuts in. Then his eyes widen. “Holy fuck, you’re Nick Mitchell.”

“Yep.” The hockey player gives a tight smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Let’s go, Bex.”

Sliding off the stool, I stagger to my feet and wobble on my heels. My arms flail, and then a strong grip catches my elbow, steadying me.

“Careful, now,” he murmurs. His voice is low and rumbly, and something clenches deep within me.

When I’m sure I’m stabilized, I shrug into my coat, but my fingers can’t quite get everything right.

Hands land on my upturned collar, flipping the lapel into place, and then Nick trails his fingers featherlight down over the swell of my breasts until he reaches the first button. He slips it into the loop without ceremony, then the second, and finally the third.

My pulse flutters, and my breath catches. His woodsy scent envelops me like a warm hug and I swallow, my throat thick with something I don’t know how to describe. It’s not indifference, and it’s not revulsion.

Is it… attraction? I don’t want it to be, but I think it is.

His hand finds mine, wrapping it around his elbow. Then his thick fingers cover mine as he guides me out of the bar.

A sleek black SUV is double-parked illegally in front of the bar.

“Thanks, man,” Nick says to the bouncer, slipping a folded bill into his hand.

He grins. “Anytime, Mitchell. Go Grizzlies!”

Nick opens the car door for me, and I fold myself inside as he rounds the hood and slides into the driver’s side. I still haven’t gotten my seat belt buckled when he’s done with his. The damn thing won’t click into place.

With a sigh, he reaches across me and pulls the belt free, then slips the buckle into the slot until it clicks.

“What’s your address?” He offers me his phone, and reluctantly, I punch it into the GPS. I don’t really want him knowing where I live. But I also don’t want him to take me back to his place. Gross, gross, gross.

He shifts into gear, the smooth hum of the SUV so gentle I can hardly tell it’s on. Except for the heated seats and warm air flowing from the vents. Those are nice.

We drive in silence. There’s no music, no conversation. I’m torn between being glad he’s not lecturing me and wishing he would just fucking say something.

The alcohol is making everything a little fuzzy around the edges. I watch out the window as lights streak by, and even though I promise myself I’m going to stay awake, I need to stay alert, my eyelids are so fucking heavy I can’t keep them open.

I wake to Nick shaking my shoulder. “We’re here.”

To my surprise, he’s parked in a visitor space in my apartment’s garage, and he exits the car to open my door.

“I can do it.”

He snorts. “Elsy would kill me if I didn’t make sure you get home safe.”

My eyes roll as I stomp through the garage to the elevator, his footsteps hot on my heels. “I’m fine.”

“I hear you. Still doing it.”

I grumble under my breath as I call for the elevator and then step into the car. I grumble all the way down the hall to my apartment, and I grumble as I unlock the door. As much as I want to slam it in his face, I know better than to instigate something right now.