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I shake my head and clear my throat. “Did you ask me something?” I blurt.
Owen’s eyes dart in the direction Alexsei disappeared. "Was he bothering you?"
Yes. Very much. I'm going to have to walk around with wet panties for the rest of the day because of him.
I smile. "No, not at all. I mean he won't ask me out, and that kind of bothers me. But it shouldn't. Because I told him I don't want to date anyone right now, anyway. Especially a hockey player. So, no. He's not bothering me."
Owen gives me a look that clearly says wow more information than I expected. And I have no idea what to say now.
“Can I help you find something?” I ask, realizing that I shouldn’t have said any of that. Lord, I sound crazy. And needy.
This guy’s a hockey coach. He’s as used to puck bunnies following his players around with hearts in their eyes as the players themselves. Hell, he was probably a player at one time. That’s usually how coaches get into coaching.
“I’m not like stalking him or anything,” I say before Owen can answer me about why he’s in the kitchen. “I’m Crew’s sister. I’m supposed to be here.”
Owen nods. “Yeah, I know who you are. I didn’t think you were stalking him.”
“Good. That whole thing about him not asking me out sounded weird. And pathetic.”
“No worries.” He shifts his weight. “Hockey players get hit in the head a lot, you know.”
I give him a curious frown. “I do know that. Why do you bring it up?”
“Because that’s likely why he isn’t asking you out.”
I smile. “You think so?”
“I can’t think of a single other reason that makes any sense.”
Oh. Well. I didn’t expect that. He doesn’t know that Alexsei isn’t asking me out because I gave him zero clues that I wanted him to and now regret that for reasons I don’t entirely understand. But this feels like a compliment and I’m willing to take it.
“Thank you.”
He just shrugs. “Seriously.”
I study Owen. He’s very good-looking.
He’s in faded blue jeans, and a light green Henley with a thick darker green button-down over the top of it. His hair is the same shade as Brady’s, his son, his teenage son, who now works for me. But my brain doesn’t linger on that fact. It catalogs the shade of Owen’s hair–brown with a reddish tint–his full beard, and his green eyes. I also take stock of the fact that he’s big. Tall and broad. Built like an athlete, but he’s not as rock-solid and bulging-muscles as the guys out in the other room. I wouldn’t say he has a dad bod. He’s definitely in shape. But he looks solid in a different way than Alexsei does. He’s solid in a I-can-change-your-oil–while-dealing-with-the-asshole-hitting-on-you-at-the-bar-after-you-turned-him-down-while-making-you-the-best-lasagna-you’ve-ever-tasted way.
And that is maybe the weirdest thing I’ve ever thought about another human being. Ever.
And I’m sure his wife thinks he’s nice and solid and that I should keep my eyes off of her husband’s solid-ness.
Fucking hockey players and the coaches.
I need to avoid all of them.
CHAPTER 9
Owen
Luna is staring at me.
Why is she staring at me?
Actually, she’s studying me. Like she’s trying to figure something out.
Probably why I said such a stupid thing.
