Page 26 of He Has It All (Boston Brawlers Hockey)
Chapter 7
Chelsea
Does the air crackle in the calm-before-the-storm silence or is it my heart splitting open and spilling out, making me giddy and unable to say anything when I want to shoutyes, quickly followed byno. Thenyes, because I’m too crazy about you, you asshole.
But this is the real Ryan O’Rourke, the next-door neighbor hottie older brother of my best friend, the hero who helped me with math homework and shot pucks with me in the street and . . . melted my panties off four years ago one memorable night I wish I could forget.
But I’ve forgiven him for deserting me that night, haven’t I?
Picking my poise up off the floor along with my jaw, I’m aware that all eyes are on me though I’m focused on his beautiful blue ones, fringed by long lashes and staring at me with soul-deep longing like I’ve never seen before. Not in anyone and especially not in him.
“I—sure.” I shrug, pretending it’s no big deal and maybe it isn’t. It’s dinner, right? How big a deal should I make of that? None.
This is Ryan Wolfhound Womanizer O’Rourke. He’s had hundreds, no thousands, of dinners with women. Right?
And you swore you would never be a notch on his bedpost.But dinner doesn’t have to lead to a notch, does it? If I behave myself.
“Good,” he says, then he looks around and so do. Those familiar eyes are still on us, darting between us, judging, questioning me and accusing him. Ignoring everyone, I turn and mumble something about getting dressed and flee to the guest room where I left my clothes.
I’m not surprised when two seconds later the door bursts open and Maggs flies in, slamming the door behind her again as she flings herself at me.
Holding onto my two arms in a death grip, she says, “Tell me what I just saw in the fucking mudroom between you and my man-whore brother.”
I shrug, not sure what to say, not sure of the answer myself. “Stop it, Maggs. Don’t make a big deal of a dinner—”
“A date. You heard him. He asked you on a fucking date.”
“If you knew the answer, why did you ask?”
“Don’t be dense, Chelsea. I’m asking you why the fuck you said yes. Have you lost your mind?”
“No—you know we’re friends.”
“I know you’ve had a crush on him since we were five years old and he showed you his pet frog trying to scare you but you loved the frog. You took it from him and named it after him and he thought you were adorable. Neither of you have changed since.”
“Then what’s the problem?” I say. “I can’t believe you remember that—I kept that frog for a long time until my brother—”
“Never mind about the stupid frog. You two are like siblings, for fuck’s sake, and if that’s not creepy enough, can I remind you that my brother probably doesn’t remember the names of ninety-nine percent of the women he’s slept with? And that’s in the thousands? Not hundreds—thousands for fuck’s sake.”
Tearing myself from her hold, because she’s so crazed she doesn’t realize her newly manicured fingernails are starting to dig holes into the skin of my upper arms and my bridesmaid dress is sleeveless so the marks will be hard to explain away.
“Stop swearing, will you? You’re being dramatic because your emotions are all heightened by the wedding.”
She blinks a few times, notices the marks on my arms and tries smoothing the skin. “Shit, sorry about that. Did I hurt you? Maybe Ishouldcalm down. But tell me you only said yes because he put you on the spot?”
Contemplating the wisdom of telling her the truth, I immediately discard the notion because she’s clearly already too frazzled and I want her to be in one piece emotionally for her wedding day. In passing I wonder if Levi is having a similar conversation with Ryan. But no, guys aren’t like that. He probably doesn’t even give it a second thought except to say he’s surprised.
“You’re right,” I say. “I was taken by surprise. But don’t worry. I’m thinking of it as a friends thing.”
She gives me a skeptical look. “He saiddate, Chelsea. You do realize my brother hasn’t taken a girl on a date since Junior Prom?”
“How would you know?”
She gives me another look to saydon’t be stupidand I remember she’s marrying Ryan’s best friend, so yeah, she would know.Fuck. This makes me panic a little, but I don’t let on, especially since I’m not sure if it’s a good panic or a bad panic. Because I’m going on a date with the man I’ve had a crush on since he was a boy and I was a little girl.
“And for the record,” I say, “I never thought of him as my brother.” Turning away from her incredulous stare, I busy myself with changing back into the dress I wore earlier, hoping she doesn’t notice my hands are shaking.
She throws herself on the bed and starts changing into her clothes too, not talking. I don’t know if that’s good or bad, but I’m relieved either way. The last thing I want to do is examine the dinner date I’m about to go on any more closely. I think I want to just go and enjoy myself and not think about the past or the future, just be with him. The real him I felt was present today, especially when we were with his Gramps. Remembering the photo Gramps took of us makes me smile. Remembering how Ryan felt next to me, hot and male, excites me, warms me smack between my legs.
