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“That’s a rather pessimistic statement.”
Spoken by … fuck, Ashley.
She sounded so disappointed, and who could blame her? It was pessimistic.
It was also strange that he would hate this guy and his male-centric wisdom when it roughly aligned with Dex’s own brand of thinking. It wasn’t so much that he thought men incapable of monogamy—he had the evidence of his teammates to put the lie to that—but Dex himself wasn’t really a one-woman kind of guy. Not that he’d ever cheat or lie, but he preferred to be up front about his commitment levels.
As in, this thing we got going on is going nowhere, baby.
So why was he pissed at another member of the dick-owning brigade for being up front about his needs? That was clearly where this conversation with Ashley was going and Dex should not care one iota.
Yet here he was on tenterhooks waiting for the rest.
“But it’s evolution,” the smirker said with no irony whatsoever. “Men are predisposed by genetics to spread their seed. Kind of hard to go against nature.”
“Is it though? That sounds like an excuse to justify bad behavior.”
“Oh, Ashley, Ashley, Ashley.”
If Dex didn’t want to punch the guy before, he certainly did now. His fingers tingled with the desire to ball them into a fist and lash out, just like he had when Kyle Hughes started pushing his girl around in the Empty Net.
The little Dex knew of his supervisor at the shelter was that she was a no-nonsense kind of chick. Surely she wasn’t going to put up with this garbage person?
Apparently she was the most patient woman alive because the guy was still talking.
“Women are always so anxious to tame a man’s true nature. You work with animals, so you must know how difficult it is to overturn years of genetic programming. The seed needs to be out there.”
Okay, enough.
Dex rounded the pillar and placed himself squarely in front of the table. Two sets of eyes looked up—one wide with surprise and possibly anticipation because the possessor of said eyes had just met his favorite hockey player (wishful, but not entirely unlikely), the other narrowed in disdain because that was par for the course for this woman when faced with one Dex O’Malley.
“Ashley.” That’s all he had.
“Uh, hi.” She blinked, looking slightly hopeful that he might have a better reason for interrupting than the need to make his presence known.
“You’re … Dex O’Malley!” The Smirk had finally picked his jaw off the floor.
Dex took another look. Ashley’s date—because that must be what this was and fuck if it didn’t chap his balls for some reason—was older than her. Far too old, in fact, for this vibrant woman.
And since when had he thought that?
Ignoring The Smirk, he turned back to Ashley. “So I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation while I waited for my double tall Americano. Now, I know you’re looking for adult conversation, a cup of tea, and a guy who’ll rub your feet, but surely you’re not going to put up with this bullshit just for a shot at a decent foot massage. Hell, I can give you that. Maybe not the adult conversation, but you shouldn’t have to come out of it with bleeding ears.”
Ashley bit her lip and fuck if that wasn’t a hot-as-Hades move right there. Every time he met her, he was struck by something else. This time it was her lips, which were pink and plump and the perfect shape for his—nope, that was not why he was here.
He fought his way back to reality. “So what do you say?”
Her brow crimped. “About what?”
“Are you going to put up with this bullshit from …” He waved at her date.
“Jerome,” Ashley supplied.
“Jerome.” He turned to The Smirk, aka Jerome. “Listen, man, I don’t know what your goal is for dating, but let me give you some free advice. No woman or hockey player wants to hear about evolutionary genetics being the reason for your inability to keep your dick in your pants. Now I’m probably not one to talk given that I have spread myself around fairly indiscriminately lately, but I always wrap it before I tap it.” Back to Ashley. “I wouldn’t trust this guy is doing that, not with the love-words he’s been spouting about his seed.”
Ashley blinked, and her lips kicked up at one corner, and that’s when Dex knew he had won. He wasn’t sure what yet, or whether there was even a prize up for grabs, but he’d won something. A ray of the woman’s sun, which was probably impossible to catch. But he’d let it warm him for a precious moment.
“Okay, I’ll be over here if you need me.” Dex nodded at Ashley, ignored Jerome, and returned to the bar to pick up his drink.
