Page 47 of He Has Charm (Boston Brawlers Hockey)
Never mind me. Think hockey. Break a leg. Score a goal or two or three. I mean good luck.
I hit send before I think better of it, before I realize I’ve rambled even in my text. I’m about to shut down the phone when I see three dots. He’s actually texting me back? Now? I would think he has something better to do five hours before game time. Okay, well, maybe five hours is plenty of time to squeeze in a text. His text pops up and my chest squeezes the sense out of me—not that there’s much left I there. My nerves tingle as I read it.
I cant Blieve u txt in ful sentnces and u ramble 2 LMAO Miss u sugr buns
My heart stutters over the wordsMiss u. Everything in me shoutsI miss you too, but I don’t text that. My pounding heart and confused emotions paralyze me between fear of wanting him and the fear of losing everything—including my heart—if I take a chance on him.
Luckily my phone takes charge and rings me back into reality with the call that I’ve been waiting for from the children’s hospital. I press the call button quicker than a game show contestant, like I’ve been thrown a lifesaver knowing full well I’m still a long way from escaping the crashing waves of tumultuous emotions that I find myself in.
Three phone calls and a ransacking of my closet to find something not pinstriped later, I’m ready to go out, dressed in slim black jeans, a cream cashmere sweater, short black leather boots, and my red puffy jacket with the earmuffs and gloves stuffed in my pockets just in case.
I rush into the crowded bar and spot Shelly sitting on a stool surrounded by dudes and holding onto one empty seat next to her. She’s talking with her hands as if she’s using sign language, but it’s her special brand of body language that accompanies her colorful words. I reach her and the gentlemen step aside.
“And here she is.” She throws up her hands in triumph and spins me around to face the three men before I can hug her in greeting.
We attract plenty of male interest, but I’m not into it. I should be, because heaven knows it’s been too long since I’ve had sex with a man. Not since I got out of law school two years ago. What’s with my stupid misguided conscience anyway? I’m not cheating on Maddox because there’s nothing between us except a contract.
Yeah, my stupid conscience says, what about that kiss?
Shelly introduces guy number one with the blue tie and I immediately forget his name though he has a harmless smile. Maybe I prefer a dangerous smile, because when he asks me what he can get me to drink, I tell him I’m not drinking, I only came to watch the game.
“Can you step a little to the right so I can see the screen?” He looks confused and I turn to the screen while guy number two with the black sweater lines up.
By the time Shelly introduces me to black sweater guy and the third, least appealing guy wearing glasses with so much glare I can’t see the color of his eyes, I don’t even have it in me to smile back. Plus the Brawlers are losing one to nothing.
Lucky for the three guys, Shelly keeps up their spirits with her ready laugh and sassy winks.
I pick up my ice water, not sure why I’m going with Knight’s drink of choice when he’s not even here unless you count the space he’s taking up in my head, and congratulate myself on rebuffing three perfectly decent men before the end of the first period. Jett calls and asks where I am and how I’m doing.
“Smashing. I’ve crushed at least three egos in the past fifteen minutes.”
“Way to go.” He laughs but it’s not funny and I feel terrible. Probably worse than those three perfectly normal guys. Too bad none of them has teasing blue eyes or killer charm or a hunkalicious body. Fuck.
“You call for a reason?” I say above the background noise. He knows I’m out but he tells me about a new recruit possibility and says he’s texting me a draft contract to work over with the terms.
“Can you take care of it tonight, seeing that Maddox is out of town and you have the night off?”
“Why of course I can. My social life is at your disposal.”
“Aww, you’re so sweet, Harper. Remember you’re up for a big bonus and promotion at the end of the season and I’ll show you how grateful I am then. Touch base tomorrow.”
Between periods it’s not too hard to talk Shelly into watching the rest of the game at the townhouse while I do the work Jett requested.
“I’m not actually surprised,” she says as we walk out into the cold and spot our car already waiting. “I was more surprised you showed up semi on time and wearing something half appropriate.”
“Which half?” I ask because I’m in a snarky mood, still upset with the losing score and my misguided conscience. Still wondering if I ought to hire an exorcist. “How much do you think a catholic priest would charge for the procedure?” Shelly lets out a shriek of laughter as we get into the car and get whisked back.
“Let’s face it Harper Buns, as long as you have Mr. Hot and Untouchable living in your midst you’re not going to be satisfied with anyone else and I don’t blame you.” She pats my back. “It’s not a demon, it’s hormones pure and simple. A matter of chemistry.”
“Great. It should be easier to hire a chemist for a reasonable price.”
I watch the game with Shelly and work during the commercials, reviewing the draft contract for the up and coming recruit from the Czech Republic who’s looking for a spot on the new Portsmouth Whalers team.
“How can you work with the game going on? Aren’t you nervous? I’m a wreck every time Maddox takes the ice and I’m not evenlivingwith him.”
“Don’t say it like that. It’s not like that. We’re nottogethertogether. You know that.”
“That’s the problem, isn’t it, sugar buns?”
“Stop calling me that. And why are you smiling like a loon? We’re not in seventh grade. We’re not—”
She cracks up laughing and throws her arms around me in a hug. “It’s okay, Harper. You’re allowed to have a crush on the guy. Accept it for what it is. Embrace it. He’s so unbelievably hot. Those eyes…” She looks skyward. “They just melt a girl, if you know what I mean.” I do know what she means, but I can’t bring myself to admit it because that’s admitting defeat. I can’t. Not out loud anyway.
“By the way,” she says. “I picked up that package you asked about.” She gives me a sly smile and I feel my face heat to a bright burn because I think I know what she’s talking about. She pulls a hot pink rectangular box from her oversized bag and hands it to me.
“Thatpackagehas nothing to do with—"
She rolls her eyes. “Whatever you say. It’s not a sin to lust after the guy. It’s not like he’s married.”
“No,” I scoff. “Because he’ll never be married. That’s not a worry.”
