Page 14 of He Has Game (Boston Brawlers Hockey)
“Let me guess. A bear claw.” Without waiting for her response, I turn to the clerk and order two. Her eyes widen.
“Go big or go home,” I say.
“You’re on a roll, aren’t you? I mean with reading my mind. Do you do card tricks too?”
“No, but you’re easy to read.”
“Oh.”
We take seats at a small table and our knees touch. The heat sizzles between us and I take a second to savor it. And then I slap it down because this isn’t like a real date where I get to take her home and have my way with her.
“Don’t sound disappointed, Vivvie. I think your expressiveness is charming.”
She laughs. Of all the reactions I might expect, that’s the last. A blush maybe, a nervous titter, possibly. But a full-out amused laugh—not at all. And yet, there she is, amused with me.
“I know you think I’m naive, but I’m not really,” she says.
What the fuck? “You think I’m shitting you? You think I’m feeding you a line?” I let her see that I’m mildly offended, because I am and I find no reason for pretense with Vivvie. I feel absolutely safe being real and vulnerable, or as vulnerable as I ever get. Because I’m not out to get anything from her and she’s not out to get anything from me. We have a true understanding. And even if shewasout to get something, I know I have the upper hand. She’s far more vulnerable than I could dream of being, in spite of her declaration that she’s not so naive.
She pinks up now with a touch of chagrin.
“I . . . yes.” She juts her chin up.
“My my, you’re full of surprises. Willing to insult your fake fiancée?”
“I’m not insulting you. But I do understand you. And when you saycharming, I know you mean . . . different or unusual, like I’m a novelty.”
“Is that what I mean? I don’t know, Vivvie. I’m pretty sure I meant charming.”
“Now you’re toying with me.” she averts her eyes. I reach across the table and take her chin, moving her face back to look at me.
“I swear to God. I’m not messing with you. I think you are fucking charming. Especially when you blush. Like right now. If you want, I could prove it to you.” I gulp, thinking about how I could prove to her my dick is getting hard. She’s so genuine, and she has no idea what a kick that is for me. Her eyes widen and she doesn’t blush. Maybe she’s right about the novelty part, but I don’t give a fuck.
I lean forward and lower my voice. “But I don’t think Mary would approve of you feeling up my dick so I can prove how you make me hard.” She opens her mouth and I swear I want to grab her hair, pull her in and stick my tongue down her throat, but I keep my hands where they are, choking my cup of hot chocolate.
“That’s so . . .”
“Inappropriate?” I say.
She shakes her head no and I scoff. “Now who’s messing around?” I ask. “Itisinappropriate. In my defense, old habits die hard. No pun intended.” She laughs, but it’s a shaky laugh. Which turns me on even more, so I pick up my hot cocoa and take a long scalding sip to get my mind off my dick. I can concentrate on the burning pain in my mouth and throat now instead.
“I’m not a virgin,” she blurts, and we’re both lucky I swallowed the hot cocoa or I would have sprayed it across the table.
“Good to know,” I choke out. “Any particular reason you felt you needed to make that announcement?”
“So you’ll stop tiptoeing around me as if—” She waves her hand.
“As if you’re an innocent? Because virgin or not, you are an innocent. I know one when I see one. Believe me.”
She frowns and takes a dainty sip of her cocoa. Then she mutters something that sounds like,Not that innocent.
“Tell me something, Vivvie, why did you volunteer to be my pretend fiancée?”
She turns violently red, but lifts her chin and says, “I may as well own up to my crush now. I’m a massive fan. I know all your stats.”
“Name some.”
She recites my stats and she may as well be whispering dirty things in my ear because my dick and everything else in me gets hot and hard.
