11. Something Sweet
Chapter 11
Something Sweet
Cece
I’m tugging at the hem of the jersey I wore to the game. I wasn’t planning on it, but Georgia snagged them for us from the campus store. Hers says Hail on the back. She said he was the hottest player that’s not in a relationship based on her in-depth research. Hail is an outstanding player. He’s fast on his skates and aggressive toward the goal. No surprise he scored one for the Lightning tonight, but he’s not my type at all. Not to mention it’s a bit of a cradle robbing situation for Georgia.
I ducked out after the game, though. Georgia heard the team was going to Wright’s. Apparently, that’s where the hockey players and fans hang out after games. She asked me to come, but I begged off, not really feeling like hanging out somewhere to watch a bunch of fanboys and puck bunnies waiting in court for my brother. Been there. Done that. Not for me .
On the plus side, she told me I could take her car home, and she’ll grab an Uber later, so she can have a few drinks. I sent Beau a quick text to keep an eye on the southern belle. He can be an arrogant asshole some of the time, but I know he would never let one of my friends, or any woman, get into trouble if he could prevent it.
A sense of freedom washes over me sitting behind the wheel. Finally, a chance to shake the pent-up restlessness of not having my own vehicle. I know I’ve been totally spoiled having my own car since I was sixteen, but that’s the way it’s been. And losing my ride chipped away at the independence I’ve had since I started college.
I’m coasting by the back of the arena when something snags my attention. There’s something familiar about those broad shoulders. I slow down, turning into the parking lot that’s designated for staff and players. Butterflies are stirring in my chest. Their swirling dance gets more insistent the closer I get to the figure. It’s him. My comic con tryst.
A different kind of anxiety takes over when I pull up beside him. He’s talking to someone. His shoulders are tense, arms crossed over his broad chest as he shakes his head at the man. The older man looks familiar for some reason, and as my eyes dart back and forth between them, something clicks. He’s like an older version of Dev. They’ve gotta be related, but nothing about Dev’s posture gives me any indication this is a joyful family reunion. I’ve seen that look on Beau’s face before when he wants to escape some stuffy dinner with my dad and his uptight cronies .
“Hey Dev. Need a lift?” It’s not like I can leave him here like this. I’m sure Beau wouldn’t want his best friend trapped in an uncomfortable situation.
Shock registers on his face when he catches sight of me. His hesitation is not so flattering. Would he rather be here, trapped in this tense conversation, than accept a ride from me?
But his shoulders soften, features relaxing as he nods. “I’d love that.”
The other man reaches out for him as he’s stepping around the back of the car. But his legs are so long he takes all of two seconds to make it to the passenger side door.
His eyes are fixed straight ahead as if to avoid looking back at the guy after he folds himself into the seat, swearing as he conks his head on the door frame. But the veins in his neck are standing out, jaw clenched.
It takes him a minute to fold his large frame into the tiny sports car. A guy of his size needs a fuck-you truck or big-ass SUV like my brother’s.
“Sorry.” I shrug as he struggles with the seatbelt.
I drive carefully off in case the man does something stupid like step in front of my car, but he doesn’t. Just steps away, shoulders dropping in defeat as we make our way back to the ride.
“Thanks,” he says.
I’m gnawing on my lip, debating whether I should ask him about the confrontation.
“You okay? ”
He drops his head back against the headrest, eyes shut. “I’ll be fine.”
Clearly, he’s not into sharing any more details, so I ignore my curiosity. “Great game.”
His eyelashes flutter open, mouth popping open with surprise, as if he forgot all about his team’s win.
“It wasn’t bad.” His brown eyes fix on me. “I thought you weren’t a hockey fan?”
“I’m not. Not really. My friend Georgia wanted to come. Apparently, she’s got some sort of athlete bingo card on the go or something. She needs to check off hockey player, so she was excited to learn my brother is on the team. I told her I’d get us tickets for a game.”
“Gotcha. You’re still not a hockey fan. Guess if all those years at games with your brother didn’t convince you, you’re a lost cause.”
“Actually, after tonight. I think I might be persuaded to come over to the dark side.” Probably a bad idea to tell him I’ve never been so invested in a hockey game as I was tonight, but it’s the truth. Even when I was dating Deacon.
“Really?”
I can feel him turning toward me, his eyes locked on me, but I don’t turn my head. Yes, I have to keep my eyes on the road, but really I don’t want to see the heated gaze that’s washing my neck in warmth.
“What was different about it?”
My lips are pressed together so tightly I think they might stay that way. It’s the only thing keeping the secret from spilling out. Him. He was the reason my attention was locked on the ice. I was tracking his movement, gasping when he took or gave a hit, cheering when he cleared the ice for one of his teammates or snatched the puck. I’ve never considered sports to be a turn on. Until now.
Finally, I can’t stand the tension anymore, so I flick my eyes over to him for a brief glance. A small grin curves up his lips. Not quite the full-blown smile I caught a couple of elusive glances of while we were at the con, but it’s there. Is he laughing at me? Unsure. The only thing I know for sure is that even the hint of a smile has a fluttery heat uncoiling low in my belly.
“Want to grab a coffee or something? Ooh! Maybe some dessert.” I could do terrible things to a chocolate cake right now. A poor substitute for the things I want to do to Dev, but maybe it would help take my mind off that.
He’s silent for so long I’m about to repeat the question.
“Probably shouldn’t.”
Heat crawls up my neck at the rejection. “Oh. Sorry. I shouldn’t have...”
Warmth climbs up my leg when his hand lands on my thigh. The thick denim is no barrier.
“I said we shouldn’t. I didn’t say no.”
“Oh.” I risk a glance at him when we hit a red light. He’s staring at me, and I can see how wrong I was. His pupils are so blown out his eyes are almost black, and his full lips have fallen open.
A horn jerks my attention back to the road and we’re jolted forward when I step on the gas a little too hard.
“Where should we go? We’re not too far from Ethel’s. Or there’s that dessert place on Main. What’s it called? Pie in the Sky. We could do a coffee shop. A little more casual.”
There’s a low rumble next to me.
“Anywhere you want.”
“Right.” Cece stop it. Babbling. One of my less stellar qualities.
My fingers are tapping out a frenetic rhythm on the wheel as I execute a perfect parallel into a spot on the street. I glance around, hand reaching up to run through my hair, but pausing on the smooth surface when I remember it’s pulled back into a neat ponytail. His hand stills the motion, and I jerk back to him.
I pull away from him. The flutters have morphed into a liquid heat and I’m going to jump his bones in my roommate’s car on a public street if he keeps touching me. Terrible plan. This man is going to be my downfall if I’m not careful.
“Dessert place is right there. Let’s hit it up.”
I leap out of the car, pressing my body against the door when another vehicle whizzes by.
“Careful,” he says, a hint of something like anger coloring his tone.
But it’s not anger that has him yanking me away from the road and back against his hard chest. I’m melting into it as his right arm presses me back. My heart is thumping in my chest as if I the doors were about to open for an art show. I’d like to think it’s the adrenaline from my near miss, but I’m pretty sure his proximity is also sending my pulse into overdrive.
“Don’t do that again, please.” His words caress my ear.
“I won’t.” I shake my head and squirm, trying to escape his arms. Not because I don’t welcome his touch. Rather, I welcome it too much. I want his arms around me so badly I’m afraid I won’t be able to hold back. If I just tilted my head the slightest bit. Leaned in toward him, his lips...
The shock of cool air yanks me out of the moment. He’s pulled away and taken a step back. His fingers close over my arm in a softer hold than I would have thought the tough hockey player would be capable of. Especially after I saw the aggressive way he was taking down his opponents in the game earlier. He doesn’t let go until he’s dragged me away and lifted me up onto the safety of the sidewalk. I’m not sure I’ve ever had someone that concerned with my safety before. At least not someone who wasn’t getting paid to look after me.
“Good.”
He’s back to rubbing his hand over the short strands of dark hair, avoiding eye contact. “Maybe we should go.”
My stomach sinks. Not yet. I’m not ready to say goodbye. We might not get another chance. “I could use something sweet. Could we maybe stay? If it’s not too much of a hassle for you.”
He tilts his head up to stare at the sprinkling of stars in the sky, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard.
He mumbles something under his breath, and I take a step closer, trying to catch his words. “What? ”
“Not a hassle. You’re not a hassle.”
I’m swallowing hard and blinking away the burning behind my eyes. I shake it off. “Good. Let’s go. It’s on me. A thank you for saving my life.”
He shakes his head. “I didn’t save you. And you don’t have to thank me.”
“Who knows what could have happened if you hadn’t grabbed me? That car could have skidded and slid into me. Escaped elephant could have come pounding down the street and flattened me. Iron Man might have swooped down to fight crime and knocked me into the multiverse. The possibilities are endless. Accept the thank you already.”
This time, the full-blown smile creeps up his face. It’s a slow bloom. Takes its time curving up his cheeks as if it’s rusty from lack of use, but it’s worth the wait if you’re paying attention. No missing teeth. One of the advantages to college hockey. They’re required to wear the helmets with cages, so not as many missing teeth as the pros. But I think he’d be hot even with a few gaps in his rare smile. It’s so rewarding when I tease it out of him.
“Welcome.”
“Since we’ve got that settled, come on.” I grab his hand, pulling him toward the little cafe.
Two diminutive trees frame the front door, twinkling lights glowing from their branches, and it gets worse as I duck under his arm to enter the place. Everything in here has been carefully curated to create the perfect ambiance for a date. Dim lighting. Check. Bud vases with multicolored carnations on each table. Check. Soft jazz in the background to set the mood, and a flickering display of candles on the hostess stand. Check and check. Great idea, but I’d look like the crazy person I am if I backed out now, so I step boldly up to the hostess.
Her smile is all for Dev, eyes trailing across his shoulders and down lower. He hunches forward as if he’s trying to make himself look smaller under her hungry gaze.
“For two?” she asks his abs.
“Yes, please.” I step into his side, sliding an arm around his waist, and turn to gaze up at his face in what I hope is an adoring way. Although, in all likelihood, I look more like a serial killer sizing up her next victim. “It’s our first anniversary. We’d love that private little table in the back corner if that’s okay.” I bat my eyelashes at him. “Right, sweetums?”
All the discomfort on his face is gone, replaced by bemusement. His lips are twitching. “Yes, cupcake.”
When I turn back to the hostess, she’s hiding her disappointment behind a bright smile. “Aw, that’s so sweet. Of course. Follow me.”
We trail behind her, weaving through the crowded tables to reach my requested one. There are only a handful of occupied tables, anyway.
I’m staring down at the laminated black menu she handed me when Dev leans in. “Sweetums? What was that all about?”
“I don’t know, cupcake.” I put a little extra emphasis on the ridiculous nickname. “I was trying to get her to stop ogling you.”
“Oh. ”
He sounds surprised. Why does he sound surprised? Surely, he knows half the campus must be lusting after him. He is a star of the hockey team, and hot as the devil he was nicknamed for. “You didn’t notice?”
“Yeah, I’m used to that. I don’t love it. The attention. The thought of people prying into my life is the one part of playing hockey professionally I’m not looking forward to. But it’s part of the gig.”
My stomach drops. He doesn’t like the attention. The publicity. He’s uncomfortable in the spotlight. The kind of spotlight that would be amplified by having me in his life.
“Right. I don’t like it either. Sometimes I wish I’d been born into a different family.”
“Me too.”
I reach across the table, dropping a hand over his and giving it a squeeze, and he flips his over, closing his fingers around mine to return it.
“So, if you noticed her checking you out, why were you surprised?” I circle back.
“I’m just not used to anyone stepping in for me.”
The honest confession hurts my soul, but I try to lighten the mood, not wanting to drag him back into whatever weird place we were sinking into. “Do you need me to kick my brother’s ass? Isn’t he your best friend? Best friends are supposed to stand up for each other.”
Epic fail. The laugh I was angling for never makes an appearance. Instead, his brown eyes widen, and he leans back in his seat, going so far as to inch it back as if he needs to put that extra bit of distance between us.
“Right. Your brother. Yes, he looks out for me.”
He leaves me hanging there, waiting for him to expand on his thought, but the invisible shield around him has snapped back into place again. Shut himself off from me and I know exactly what it was. The giant brick wall named Beau that stands between us went incognito for a moment, but now it’s back in full force. Fantastic. Great thinking, as always. I sigh, turning my face down to study the menu full of things that sounded amazing before. Now I’m not so sure I’ll be able to choke any of them down.