Page 7 of Three Hockey Hotties

I clear my throat.

“I can’t imagine I would want that,” she says hastily, in a way that is so adorable and innocent that I instantly feel more at ease.

She’s not a sophisticated flirt. Bold, seductive women who come onto me with sexy smiles and knowing looks always make me even more tongue-tied.

“Dash, meet Abby. She is involved in planning the Stick It To Cancer event and she needs a tour of the arena.”

Wait a minute. There is something in his voice. And the way he’s making eye contact with me while tilting his head ever-so-slightly in her direction.

Kane likes Abby.

Sure, the grin is his usual grin. And yes, he flirts with every attractive girl he stumbles across. But he’s my best friend. I’ve known him since our peewee hockey days.

He likes her.

Like I like her.

Which means…

“Hi,” she says, before I can finish that thought. “It’s nice to meet you…Dash.”

She has a very sweet and quiet voice, and her words come out trembling. She sounds nervous.

I make her nervous.

That feels really fucking unfair considering she makes me feel like I’m choking on a hunk of Wisconsin cheddar. My tongue feels too big for my mouth.

Maybe Kane made her uneasy with his teasing about me biting. I do scare people sometimes. Women cross to the other side of the street when I’m out walking my dog, and when Kane forces me to go out to bars, the crowd always silently parts for us.

Kane says it’s because they’re admiring his awesomeness.

I think it’s an instinctive shrinking away from me, my bulk, and my unintentional surliness.

I’m huge compared to Abby, and I can see why she might find me intimidating. But the last thing in the world I want is to have Abby shrink away from me. That would probably kill me.

So I force my shoulders to relax and try to keep my voice low.

“Hi,” I manage to spit out. “I’m Dash.”

Which…she already knows. My face feels even hotter. I can feel my scowl increasing and I’m fucking powerless to stop it. When I’m uncertain, I scowl.

It’s a defensive habit left over from when I was a kid and had a stutter.

“Bro,” Kane murmurs under his breath in sympathy.

To her—the most magical creature I’ve ever laid eyes on in my life—he says, “Dash gets brain fog when he’s hungry. Takes a lot of calories to fuel hockey players. Especially one his size.”

I appreciate the cover-up.

Instantly, the unease on Abby’s face is replaced by concern. “Oh, don’t let me stop you. Go eat your dinner. I’ll just…” She looks around like she isn’t sure what she’s going to do.

My nerves evaporate.

Her uncertainty puts me at ease.

“No, no, I’m fine,” I tell her, even though five minutes ago I thought my stomach was going to digest itself. “You need a tour? Are you meeting someone here?”

“I thought I was,” she says, sheepishly, tucking her hair behind her ear. “But I had my dates mixed up. I’m supposed to be here tomorrow.”