He had a point. It would be easy to say that, after the news broke, they’d decided it would be too much and went their separate ways. End of story.
But she didn’t really know how long Will would be in Boston, and as long as he was in this city, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to resist him. And maybe a breakup would be just as newsworthy as dating, if not more, because it would look like Erik punching Will had caused it, which could get everybody excited about an increase in the animosity between the two men. It was better for everybody to let the story ride for a while.
“That’s not your decision to make,” she said.
“We should be focusing on the All-Star weekend, not on your nonsense.”
That was nothing new. “Then stop arguing with me and go watch game tapes or something. You’ve never let anything going on in my life detract from game prep before, so there’s no sense in starting now.”
He grunted and hung up, which was how their phone calls usually ended. She sank onto the couch and closed her eyes, blowing out a long breath.
Dealing with Erik and her dad in the same day was always tiring, but tonight she felt absolutely drained. A lot had happened today, and she still had tomorrow to look forward to. If her boss was going to hear what had happened, it would probably be before she showed up to work in the morning. She was hopeful the dating angle would be enough to make Stan dismiss it all, but Will was still an athlete. And not only was he a hockey player, but he was the one the people of Boston hated the most.
All she wanted to do for the rest of the night was binge some Netflix and then fall into her bed, even though she’d probably do more tossing and turning, tangling her sheets all up, than actual sleeping. She’d worry about tomorrow when her alarm went off.
Her phone chimed, and she caught herself smiling when Will’s name popped up on the screen.
Since we’re dating now, do you want to grab some grilled chicken with me?
Netflix wasn’t going anywhere, she decided. And if she was going to spend a sleepless night in tangled sheets, it might as well be Will who tangled them.
6
Will watched Kristen walk through the door of Firewall, just as he had the first time he’d eaten there, and the impact of her gaze meeting his wasn’t lessened any by having been naked in her bed.
If anything, his hunger for her hit him even harder.
He’d had a few relationships in his life—a couple of them he’d really believed at the time would go the distance—but he’d never been as excited by a woman as he was by this one. She was not only sexy as hell, but she was funny and authentic and pretty damn fierce.
She was also a Burke, but nobody was perfect.
He stood when she reached the table, and she gave him a quick but potent kiss, complete with a sharp nip at his bottom lip, before she sat in the chair across from his. Sitting helped stop his erection before it could become a problem, but he figured he’d better get used to constantly being semihard if he was going to be spending a lot of time with Kristen.
“I’m surprised you don’t hang out at sports bars,” she said. “You’d probably eat—or at least drink—for free.”
He snorted at the suggestion. “I think you’re seriously underestimating how much this city loves your brother. You said yourself I was in the top three most hated athletes in Boston on a good day, and now Marauders fans know I did, in fact, defile Burke’s sister.”
“Thoroughly defiled,” she said, amusement making her eyes crinkle. “But whether they hate you or not, fans aren’t going to pass up the chance to have a story to tell about the time they had a drink with Cross Lecroix.”
“I’d rather eat my dinner and read my book in peace. Autographs and selfies come with being at the top of my game, but I get time off, too.”
She propped her chin on her hand. “Does that mean I can’t ask you for an autograph?”
He laughed. “I guess that depends on where you want me to sign my name.”
“Tell me you’ve never signed a breast.” He felt the heat in his face and knew he didn’t even have to answer. She rolled her eyes. “You’re not writing your name on my body. But I do think it would be hilarious to have you sign a Cross Lecroix poster so I can hang it in my apartment. Cross as Dad repellent would be pretty effective.”
“The way you say that makes me wonder if you think of me and Cross Lecroix as two different people in your head.” She shrugged and didn’t deny it. “We’re not. If anything, Cross is the real me. Will’s the guy hanging out in Boston waiting for the clock to tick down on the All-Star break and his conditioning stint so he can get back on the ice in Baltimore.”
“So noted.” The seriousness in her gaze told him she’d got what he was trying to say without actually saying it. This was a short, involuntary detour in his life, and she shouldn’t think it was anything else. Then the corner of her mouth turned up suggestively. “Of course, Will’s also the guy having sex with me while that clock ticks.”
“Itisgood to be Will right now,” he admitted, and his dick twitched to life again.
“Let’s stop talking about you in dual third-person and order food,” she suggested, which worked for him. Talking about sex while they weren’t in a place they could actually have it was going to make for a very long, uncomfortable evening.
And it had been a difficult enough day already. Since the news about Kristen broke, he’d been hearing from pretty much everybody he had a professional connection to—from the Harriers management to his agent and his own teammates—as well as getting text messages from a lot of guys he had friendships with off the ice. It had been exhausting and one of the perks of dinner with Kristen was being with somebody who actually knew the truth.
But the biggest benefit was the way he felt when she turned her gaze on him and her half smile seemed to promise good things. And not just sex—though he certainly wouldn’t turn it down—but just the pleasure of her company. He liked her with her clothes on, too.
