Page 39 of Ice Rebel

“I can,” Roy teased. “Because I’m a damn good pool player.”

“You mean because I helped you win. I’d almost call that cheating.”

“Me? Cheating? Not a chance,” he huffed, acting as if incensed. “I told you solids or stripes. You simply confused the two.”

A snort from my mouth brought a laugh from his throat. “I was testing you.”

“Oh, I see. There was no accounting for how I handled the stick.” His purposeful enunciation of the single word was, of course, done on purpose. He’d figured out what triggered my wild side and had exploited it, much to his delight and my chagrin. To say he’d gotten me all fired up was an understatement.

Every grin he gave, every time he caved, every shot he made—I was watching him. As he’d done with me. The song rattled in my head since it was the last one played on the old jukebox. I didn’t even know there was a bar left in any city housing a nineteen-eighties relic. His flirtatious nature had been over the top, which had suited the music selection perfectly.

I couldn’t tell a lie. I’d thoroughly enjoyed myself.

A fascinating aspect of the evening was that we remained on edge, as if tiptoeing around the truth about our backstories had been the most competitive game of all. I was beginning to wonder how many of the outlandish stories he’d told me were true or simply random details he’d tossed out to see if I’d bite.

Example. That he’d once been called on stage to sing with Halestorm. If true, I’d give my firstborn to see that in action. I could see it though, the man grinding with Lizzy Hale. Certainly his style.

“Let me venture a guess. You’re good at every sport.” I tapped my index finger against my lips.

He took and held a deep, very exaggerated breath while rubbing his jaw. Which of course was yet another sensual move that drew my attention. “Not true. I suck at golf.”

“Well, damn. I guess you’re nothing but a slacker.”

Being with Roy wasn’t anything like I’d expected. After the months of having hockey shoved down my throat, I’d thought I’d carefully crafted a decent picture and understanding of male behaviors when drunk on fame and testosterone.

Roy had surprised me more than once. Parts of him were sensitive. When he wasn’t trying to prove he was one powerful man.

“In this case, I beat you twice. Two times.” He held up his fingers in front of my face after he cut the engine on the truck.

We’d made it back safely to the parking lot of the gym without the big tough guy at the bar doing any physical damage.

At one point, I’d been certain a fight had been ready to break out.

I playfully punched his arm. “Nope. I don’t buy it. You cheated all by yourself on the second game. You didn’t even need my help.”

“Now, how did I cheat exactly? I even let you break twice for the second game. Now, I’m not saying you suck at it, but… You suck at it.”

A soft but pronounced cringe swept through me from the ugly vision. We’d been afraid I’d ripped the felt. When the manager had walked by after hearing me screech, I’d crawled onto the table, pretending to be a sex kitten to avoid the teensy tiny tear being noticed. “All your fault. You stared at me every time I took a shot.”

“And that unnerved you?”

“Yes. But I’ll never admit it.”

“Hmmm… I think I like unnerving you.” Roy’s tone changed, enough that I was suddenly nervous around him. “Of course, not that I really did.”

I purposely opened the truck door before answering. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure. You can ask anything.”

“What did the guy in the bar say?”

He snorted. “He was ready to hit on you.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. I noticed he was ready to get a little touchy feely, and I can handle myself with Neanderthal men. I’m talking about whatever he said as I took that shot. I could tell it really pissed you off. Your hands were fisted and there was electricity almost like a forcefield all around you.”

“Just the usual, goading me into a fight. Believe it or not, there are a bunch of people who can’t stand hockey players. Hard to believe, huh?”

I rolled my eyes for his benefit. “Very hard to believe. Thanks for a nice evening after all.” The jerk had said something else. I’d only caught a few words, but I was positive he’d called Roy a wolf man.