Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
CATALINA
I turned to Easton and nodded a greeting, keeping my expression neutral. "My phone is safe in my pocket." Just in case he tried to take it from me again.
He grinned. "Good to know." He leaned in to whisper in my ear. "I don't mind touching your ass to get at it."
His close proximity sent a shiver through me. Warm, smooth breath brushed my earlobe. His voice sent a pulse of heat straight to my clit, reminding me she was a traitor and couldn't be trusted.
"I bet you wouldn't," I said knowingly.
He leaned back and grinned again. A dimple popped in his left cheek, and for the first time I noticed one in his chin. It was completely unfair for a guy to be as good-looking as he was.
I reminded myself that he was also obnoxious, and took a cooling sip of cola that did almost nothing to slow the rush of blood around my body.
"I came over here to work out the details of our date." He rested his elbow on the table and supported his cheek with his fist. "I'm sure you've filled your friends in on our bet."
"They know about it." I glanced at Eden and Marley, who were both trying to look like they weren't invested in the conversation. "You seem very confident that you won."
"Sweetheart, I know I won," he said. "I saw you watching the game, enjoying every minute. And looking super cute the whole time."
My face heated.
"It was okay," I said as easily as I could manage. "I can think of worse ways to spend a Friday night." Like sitting at home alone watching romcoms and feeling very single.
Easton's brow crinkled in a slight but playful frown. "It seems like we need some independent adjudication here." He turned to Eden and Marley. "Would you lovely ladies say Cat had a good time? Be honest now." He gestured at them to go ahead and take the proverbial floor.
"I'd have to say, after careful consideration, Cat did indeed have a good time," Marley said slowly. "I'd go as far as to say she'd watch another game. With some time and effort, she may count herself as a fan of ice hockey."
"Let's not go crazy here," I said.
Easton gestured to Eden. "What do you think? Would you agree with this assessment?" A smile tugged at the corners of his lips at the pretend formality.
Eden looked at me, then back at him before she nodded. "I have to admit Marley's assessment is accurate. Catalina did indeed enjoy watching you play hockey."
"Watching me?" Easton looked smugly pleased at her wording.
"Watching your team," I said. "You're just a part of it."
"An important part of it," he said. "However, the conclusion from our independent panel is that you liked what you saw and therefore, I won the bet. So all there is left to do is fix a time and place."
"Eden, I need to go to the toilet. Come with me." Marley grabbed Eden's hand and all but pulled her out of their side of the booth.
Eden glanced back at me to make sure I was all right, before letting herself get tugged away.
"They seem nice," Easton said.
"Are you saying that because you think it, or because they agreed with you?" I asked. They were about as subtle as a falling boulder.
"Both." He shrugged one shoulder. "A person can never have too many honest friends who have their back."
"I'm sure you have lots of friends who have your back," I said. "Which makes me wonder why you want to see this bet through. If you want to walk away right now, I won't mind." He couldn't say I hadn't given him an out.
"Why would I want to?" He seemed genuinely curious.
"I saw the looks you got from your teammates," I said. "Cruz and Shaw, in particular. I know Cruz hates my guts and Shaw seems to, too. I wouldn't want to cause any trouble with you and them. I know how important it is to you that the Ghouls become an expansion team for the league."
"Don't worry about them," Easton said lightly. "They just need to get over themselves. When they get to know you, they'll realise you're actually nice, and not a stuck up, snobby bitch."
I winced. "Ouch." I didn't care if they didn't like me, or even what they said about me, but the idea anyone might think I was like that stung. I was intense when it came to my sport, but I tried to be laid-back outside of that. I certainly wasn't a snob.
"Like I said, they'll get over themselves. I love that you're aware of the importance of the Ghouls to Opal Springs. You've been talking about me." His gaze lingered on my face, dropping to my lips before returning to my eyes.
"My friends filled me in after my…conversation with Cruz at the rink the other day," I said. "In fact, I think it would be fair to say we were talking about him, not you."
Easton grinned. "Ouch. I don't get the impression you were saying anything nice about him, so in this case, I'll let it slide. For what it's worth, he's driven and committed to the team. To the exclusion of pretty much everyone and everything else."
"I can relate to that," I admitted. "I feel that way when I'm training. Nothing else exists in the whole world. Just me and the ice and…" I trailed off. I was probably over sharing.
"And the ice and?" he prompted. "Go on." His attention was focused completely on me, like I was the only person in the room with him.
When was the last time a guy looked at me like that? Long enough. It was compelling, and difficult not to look back at him in the same way.
"I was going to say, 'and my ambition to skate in the Winter Olympics,'" I admitted.
"Why would you not own an ambition like that?
" he asked. "I mean, ice hockey player here.
" He gestured to himself. "I'd be lying to myself if I didn't say I also wanted to make the Winter Olympics.
Standing up there, getting a gold medal in front of the world.
" He smiled, a dreamy look with slightly glazed eyes.
"Exactly," I said softly. "I want that. I want all of that." I wasn't used to talking about this with people I didn't know well. Not unless they were other speed skaters. Most people didn't understand the sport, or weren't interested. That was their loss, as far as I was concerned.
"Figure skating?" he asked. That was always everyone's first guess when the topic arose.
"Short track speed skating," I replied. I'd tried figure skating, a long time ago, but I didn't have the finesse for it. It didn't get my blood racing the way speed skating did.
His eyes widened. "Ice racing?” He seemed genuinely impressed. "That's fucking cool. I used to do a bit of that when I was a kid, but I preferred to chase the puck around with a stick. It's full on, but I fucking love it."
"You get a break every minute or so," I said lightly. They were on again and off again so quickly and so often it was challenging to keep track.
He snorted a laugh. "Your races aren't much longer than that. We have to get back on after that next minute is over. It's hectic."
"It looks like it," I admitted. "You must not know if you're coming or going sometimes."
He grinned. "Sweetheart, I always know when I'm coming."
I groaned. I should have known how he'd respond to that. Of course, now I was picturing him lying over me, thrusting into my body, eyes half closed as he orgasmed.
"Let me guess, you have to let the whole world know?" I raised an eyebrow at him.
"Just the person I’m with," he said. "But I like to make a woman scream." The meaningful look he gave me made my panties wet. He definitely looked like the sort of guy who knew how to make a girl feel good.
I reminded myself that I wasn't getting involved with him or any of his friends, no matter what happened. Just one date, that was it. We could be friends after, but nothing else.
"I'm sure you do," I said, suddenly awkward.
"So, about our date." His eyes dropped, gaze lingering on my cleavage for a moment before returning to my face.
"I was thinking we could meet at the café for morning tea," I said.
"No way," he replied. "We're having a proper date. Dinner and a movie. I'll even let you pick the movie. And if you're lucky, breakfast the next morning."
I rolled my eyes. "If I'm lucky?"
Once again, he was grinning. "You're right, if we're both lucky." He leaned in. "I'm always lucky. By the time we walk out of the cinema, you'll be ready to jump my bones."
"You're a cocky prick, aren’t you?" I asked. It wasn't an accusation, just a statement of fact. One I suspected he'd happily admit to.
"Yes. Yes I am," he said with absolutely no hint of shame.
"Don't tell me you think there's something wrong with being confident.
Because there isn't. I'm attracted to you.
I know you're attracted to me. We already have things in common.
Skating, and the fact we both want me to give you orgasms. Lots and lots of orgasms."
If I wasn't wet before, I was now. Yeah, he knew exactly the effect he had on me.
That made him dangerous. Maybe I'd let myself go and sleep with him, but I couldn't fall for him or any of his teammates.
That was nothing more than a recipe for heartache.
I wasn't letting myself go through that again.
I had to guard my heart like it was a vault full of gold medals.
"Give me your phone." He held out his hand.
"What for?" I asked. What was it with this guy and my phone? I hadn't pulled it out of my pocket since before the game.
"So I can put my number in there and text you what time I'm picking you up. And so you can text me your address." He wiggled his fingers for me to hurry up.
"I can meet you there," I protested. "Just tell me where or when."
"Like I said, this is a real date," he said. "I'm going to pick you up and give you the royal treatment. Everything a princess deserves."
"I'm not a princess." I grimaced, remembering Cruz and the way he called me that, trying to taunt me. It was only slightly better than Ginger.
"Maybe not, but you'll feel like one by the time I'm done with you." He took my phone when I handed it to him and programmed in his number. He even took a selfie to go with it. Instead of giving it back, he started to tap the screen, a slight frown on his forehead.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Setting a ringtone, so when I call you, you'll know it's me," he said. He finally handed my phone back and pulled out his own. He tapped on the screen to put my number in his phone, then pressed again.
The phone rang in my hand, playing We Are the Champions at high volume.
I laughed. "That's a very hopeful ringtone." Not to mention being one of the inspirational songs I played when I worked out. That and Champion by Carrie Underwood.
"I thought it was more subtle than something about having a big dick." He tapped his phone screen to end the call.
"I'm surprised you can do subtle," I said.
"I can sometimes," he said. "When you ring me, it's going to play Ride Me, by Blazing Violet."
"Who says I'm going to call you?" I asked.
His only response was to smile.