Chapter 4 #3
“Grant, please.”
I point dramatically. “Are you a virgin?”
His expression tells me everything. I nearly inhale my drink. The resulting cough is violent enough that Hayes punches my shoulder.
“Don't tell anyone.” The demand arrives immediately.
I keep coughing. “You're serious?”
He covers his face with his hands. “Yes.”
The poor guy looks horrified.
I somehow manage to recover. “Nobody is going to believe me anyway.”
“Good.”
The conversation pauses briefly.
Unfortunately, my imagination does not. Hayes is twenty-five. Handsome. Smart. Funny. And apparently completely inexperienced. The thought should not affect me. It absolutely does.
I force myself to focus. “What happened?”
Hayes shrugs. The movement looks oddly vulnerable. “I just didn't have the time.”
“Not even in college?”
He shakes his head. “Hockey.”
The conversation drifts naturally toward dating.
Not my favorite topic. Not because I'm shy about it.
Mostly because hockey players tend to have the emotional depth of a teaspoon when discussing relationships.
Hayes is different. He's listening. Every answer I give gets considered before he asks the next question. It's refreshing.
Eventually I mention, almost casually, that my interests tend to be a little unconventional.
Hayes immediately looks curious.
“What does that mean?”
The question hangs between us. Around us, the bar continues buzzing with post-game energy. Teammates laugh near the televisions. Glasses clink. Music hums through hidden speakers.
For some reason, the noise feels far away.
I lower my voice slightly. “It means I'm into some kink.”
The words land exactly how I expect them to. Hayes goes still. Not uncomfortable but interested.
His gray eyes lock onto mine. “Like...50 Shades of Grey?”
The question comes out before he can stop it. I smile into my drink. “Oh, so you read smut along with your classics?”
A gorgeous blush spreads across his face. “Um...”
So yes.
I keep talking to save him. “Why? Curious?”
His eyes glance away from mine. “No.”
The lie is terrible.
I laugh. “Sure.”
Hayes rolls his eyes. “What kind of kink?”
I take another sip before answering. “Power play.”
His eyebrows lift.
“Punishment.”
The curiosity deepens.
“Pain and pleasure.”
Something shifts in his expression.
Not fear.
Not judgment.
Fascination.
Like he's encountering a language he's never heard before but desperately wants translated.
I can feel my pulse rushing in my neck. The guy who barely speaks in the locker room suddenly has a thousand questions written across his face.
“What does that actually mean?” he asks.
I lean back slightly. “It means I enjoy trust.”
His expression turns thoughtful.
“I know that sounds like a weird answer.”
“A little,” he admits.
I smile. “But that's really what it is. Trust. Communication. Knowing somebody well enough that they can hand you control and know you're going to take care of them.”
Hayes listens intently. Every word seems to pull him in a little further. The conversation has become strangely quiet. His hand rests on the table beside his drink. Mine is wrapped around my glass.
As I'm talking, my knuckles brush his. The contact is brief. Still, neither of us moves immediately.
“I like making my partner feel everything there is to offer.” The words leave my mouth before I can soften them.
For a second, the space between us feels charged. Hayes's eyes don't leave mine. The blush along his cheeks deepens. And suddenly I'm very aware of the fact that he's handsome. Dangerously handsome.
The realization isn't exactly new. It's just becoming harder to ignore.
Hayes swallows. The movement draws my attention immediately. His gaze flicks down toward his drink, then back to me. Like he's trying to decide whether to ask another question.
Before he can, a familiar voice cuts through the moment. “There you are!”
Dante. Of course.
I close my eyes briefly.
Dante points at both Hayes and me. “Shots.”
“No,” I say.
“Yes.”
“No.”
Dante grabs both of our shoulders. “Absolutely yes.”
I laugh despite myself.
The spell breaks instantly. Hayes sits back in his chair. The tension dissipates.
Dante continues talking. Neither of us is listening. Eventually I stand. The team is already calling me over.
Hayes rises too. Probably planning to escape before Dante recruits him into whatever terrible decision is unfolding at the other table.
He takes two steps away from me. I catch his arm lightly. The movement stops him. For a second, he looks up at me. Questioning. Curious. Still slightly pink.
I keep my voice low enough that only he can hear. “If you're interested...”
His breath catches almost imperceptibly.
I smile. “I'm willing to show you what I meant.”
The blush that follows is immediate. Spectacular.
I release his arm before he can respond. Then I turn and head toward the rest of the team. As I walk away, I can practically feel Hayes staring after me.
The thought follows me all the way to the shots table.
And for the first time all night, I'm not thinking about hockey at all.