Page 37 of Shootout
There had to be an explanation, like maybe I was so lonely I’d attached more to our fake relationship than I normally would’ve. She was a friendly face in a sea filled with waves of scowling disapproval and judgment. She was a bright light. Someone who saw me rather than used me. I didn’t know what to do with that, how to handle it. I couldn’t stop thinking about how she looked when I kissed her, how completely she was into me the way I was into her, how easily we could’ve taken the next step.
I did the only thing I knew to do at this point in time. I forced my focus on hockey and winning over my teammates, who still regarded me with anything from wary distrust to outright animosity. Like it or not, this team was my future, not Jessie or anyone or anything else. They had to be my priority beyond anything else in my life.
No matter how many times I told myself this, my mind continued to stray to Jessie when my concentration lapsed. I kept her out of my thoughts when I was on the ice, but road trips afforded a lot of time for a guy to be in his own head.
My roommates and I trudged through the door after the plane had landed in the early morning hours, and I dragged myself off to bed. I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
I didn’t stir until early afternoon. Dressed and showered, I drove to the SHAC for practice. Afterward, I hung around the locker room and did a brief workout. Once finished, I lingered without knowing why. My rookie roomies took off for pizza and invited me, but I declined, as I had multiple times during the road trip.
I should’ve resented being forced to behave, but strangely enough, I didn’t miss the partying and random hookups as much as I believed I would.
I wandered around the SHAC and ended up in the bleachers of another rink, watching Jessie work magic with her young players. She had a knack for getting through to them and improving their game little by little. I watched in awe and admired her ability to do so. She glanced up and noticed me, giving me a little wave and a hesitant smile, which I found extremely endearing and adorable.
Holy fuck, when had I ever described a woman as adorable? Kittens were adorable. Puppies were adorable. Babies were adorable. Women were hot and sexy and desirable, but adorable? Fuck no.
Yet Jessie was.
But she was also hot and sexy and desirable.
I’d never experienced such opposing traits in one woman.
She turned away from me, but not before I noticed her face redden with embarrassment. An evil smirk of pleasure crossed my face. She didn’t look my way once during the rest of the session.
When her group of ten-and-under coeds left the rink, she skated over. I slid off my seat and moved down to the boards, standing before her.
“Hey,” I said, shocking myself because I fucking sounded shy. I never sounded like that. I was the brash, confident one with the silver tongue and panty-melting smile.
She ducked her head briefly, another adorable characteristic of hers. “Hey.”
“Do you have any plans tonight?” I heard myself saying, not realizing until this very minute why I was here.
“I have a couple semiprivate lessons. After seven, I’m free.”
“Wanna go skating together?”
“During the public skate?”
“Nah, in the Sockeyes rink. I’m dying to see what damage you can do in the correct gear.”
“You think I can do damage?”
She could do damage, but I didn’t admit I’d done some research and watched some of her games during my downtime on the road trip. She had moves most male professionals weren’t able to perfect, and I was intrigued. I’d dated my share of puck bunnies, some who’d been knowledgeable about hockey, but I’d never been friends with a woman who had her mad skills and slick moves.
“I’ve been skating all day,” she hedged. I sensed her drawing back, protecting herself. I got it. Part of me wanted to do the same thing.
“Are you saying you’re too worn out?” I challenged her, knowing exactly how a competitive person like her—and me—would react.
“No, I’m not.” She stared me down with a glint in her eyes.
“I’ll meet you a little after seven in the Sockeyes rink. Loser buys drinks.”
“You’re on.”
I grinned as I walked down the hall toward the parking garage, not sure where to go next.
“What’s got you all happy?” Vick fell into step beside me.
“Nothing. Playing well, I guess.”
