1. Greer #2
“He’s an app developer,” she said with a smile and a quick swat to his chest. He liked her playfulness. “And I happen to know he’s been looking into a series of exercise apps. I told him that he could do with having a lean-and-mean fighter spearheading his campaign.”
“You did?” he asked, stunned that, once again, lady luck was on his side.
Lady luck meaning her.
“I did,” she said, nodding in affirmation and apparently quite pleased with herself. “We’ll have to circle back for a proper introduction, but I’d be pretty surprised if he didn’t reach out with an offer for your upcoming fight.”
“A sponsorship?” he asked, really needing to have that confirmation.
“Yes,” she said, just as the crowd near the glass began to cheer, a horn blowing in the distance indicating a goal for the Bruins.
Peering out at the crowd, which now looked like a bunch of ants below him, it brought back once more how lucky he was.
Standing where he was. Following his dream of professional fighting. Having Tessa at his side.
“This is all just… surreal.”
“I get it,” she said as she tipped her head up to him.
“You know I’ve never been to a hockey game before?
” Looking across the room, she delicately waved at someone.
Every move she made was calculated. Purposeful.
And he knew he’d be able to learn a whole lot from her in this brand new world he found himself in.
One he jumped into with both feet.
“You’re kidding me,” he said, studying her.
The long, black sweater dress with the gold buttons up the side was no accident—wearing the home team’s colors.
Still, he wondered what she might look like wearing a team jersey and a pair of jeans.
Maybe sitting out in the arena proper, scarfing down a loaded hot dog, and screaming with all the fans around them.
A real date.
“No,” she said, her delicate laughter lighting him up on the inside. “You’ve probably noticed I’m completely out of my element here.”
“Hardly,” he said, slightly aghast. “You look perfect.”
He saw a hint of confusion cross her beautiful features before she slid her perfectly put-together mask back into place again.
“You know, we’ve got some time. Did you want to… maybe, watch some of the game?” Greer grinned. “I can teach you all about hockey.”
“You’re a man of many talents,” she said, and even though he knew she wasn’t trying to be dirty, his filthy mind went there anyway. “You’ve already taught me so much about fighting.”
“Well, there’s a lot of pressure here,” he said in jest, snugging her closer to his side and directing them to walk toward the window seats. “This is your first hockey game, gotta make sure you have a good time. Leave with a good impression.”
“I’m having fun so far,” she admitted.
“Yeah, but you’ve just schmoozed so far,” he said, glancing over at the bar where Cyr was on his phone, turning briefly to look at the arena but clearly distracted by whatever he was talking about.
“Schmoozing is something I can do,” she offered as they took seats directly in front of the glass. She lowered her voice when she said, “I want to help you as much as I can. You’re helping me, after all.”
Greer knew she meant the fake-boyfriend thing. How being with him would hopefully scare off her ex once and for all. He felt for her, he really did. And at the same time, he could completely understand the need to never let this woman go.
Too bad Troy fumbled her.
“C’mon, Tess,” he said, putting his arm around the back of her chair. “We’re helping each other, aren’t we?”
She nodded, looking almost grateful to him. “I’d like to think so?”
He gave her an endearing smile. One that made her blush slightly and smile back. “Me too.”
When the crowd began to go wild again, Greer walked Tessa through the motions of the game.
Who played which position, the advantages each player gave to their teams, and what was going on as players crowded one another on the ice.
Surprisingly, she listened attentively, her eyes darting between him and the ice before nodding in understanding.
She’d gotten so into the plays that she didn’t even notice when the waitress came by, taking orders and replenishing drinks for everyone.
Greer knew right then, if he’d gone to a game with a buddy, he wouldn’t have had half of the conversations he and Tessa’d had that night.
His friends all knew the game pretty well, and if he were with any other woman, she’d probably just nod along with him, not giving a care about what he was saying.
He could tell Tessa was not only listening, but invested in the conversation. She wanted to learn and was trusting him to teach her well.
It was more fun than he had expected.
“Not a bad sport, huh?” Greer asked.
“I had no idea!” she said, her face lighting up in delight, watching the game now going on. It was exciting for sure as the players swarmed the puck and raced down the center of the ice to the opposing team’s goal. Tessa was entirely riveted to her seat, watching.
Greer sat back, crossing his ankle to knee, and unconsciously stroking his thumb up and down her arm. Just as unconsciously, she moved to burrow under his arm, snuggling into his side without taking her eyes off the ice. The Bruins rounded the goal, shot, and missed.
“Aww, so close,” Tessa said, causing Greer to smirk. He did that.
He made her a hockey fan.
“A beer for you, sir?” a waitress asked, reappearing so quickly he hadn’t seen her approach. Sure enough, she had a small, circular tray full of drinks and a longneck bottle perched on it.
“Oh, yes, thank you,” he said, sitting up and dislodging Tessa as he reached for the beverage she was handing him. Tessa continued to sit on her own, the very picture of politeness. He wrapped his hand around the bottle before she passed him?—
“And a sparkle martini?” she said, looking at Greer and then to Tessa.
“Yes, for the lady,” he said as the waitress lifted the martini glass and handed it to her.
“O-oh, thank you,” Tessa said, accepting the pink drink and having a look at it as the waitress walked away. It was a hazy pink, rimmed in coarse sugar, and absolutely swimming in sparkles. Tessa looked over the top of it to meet his eyes.
“You ordered this for me?” she asked.
“I did,” he confirmed, sitting back and taking a pull from his bottle. She’d had a martini already, and he’d seen someone drinking this earlier in the night.
The laughter bubbled up from her. “What on earth made you think of this?”
“What, it’s not your favorite?” he asked mischievously.
In all the time they’d been together, which truly wasn’t more than a matter of weeks now, she’d always gotten the same, straight-laced martini.
Clean lines, clear liquid, and very little garnishment.
When he’d ordered for them, he decided to take a chance and shake her up a little bit.