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“Sal thinks he can, too.”
He picked up his beer bottle and saluted her with it before taking a swig. “After that kiss, I’d say our relationship now qualifies as having a status.”
Her eyes widened as the truth of his words sank in.
She was an intriguing mix, with the power to blindside him more than any offensive player on the ice. Back in high school and now.
And things were only going to get more interesting since she’d just handed him a plum excuse for continuing to see her...
Seven
He was in heaven.
A beautiful woman had just opened the door to her apartment. And delicious aromas wafted toward him.
Marisa, however, looked shocked to see him.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded.
She was wearing a white tee and a red-and-black apron with an abundance of frills. She had bare legs, and a ridiculous pair of mule slippers with feathers on them showed off her red pedicure.
His body tightened.
Hey, if she wanted to role-play, he was all for it. She could be a sexy domestic goddess, and he could be the guy who knocked on the door and...obliged her.
She was still staring at him. Devoid of any makeup, she looked fresh-faced and casual.
“What are you doing here?” she asked again.
He thought fast. “Is that any way to greet your newest—” What was the status of their relationship anyway? “Love interest?”
“We both know it isn’t real!”
“It’s real,” he countered, “but temporary.”
She looked unconvinced.
Ever since their encounter at the Puck & Shoot late last week, he’d been searching for another way to see her again. He’d decided the direct approach was the only and best option this time.
“People will expect me to drop in on my girlfriend.” He arched an eyebrow and added pointedly, “And at least know what her place looks like.”
She leaned against the door. “Our relationship isn’t genuine.”
“Everyone seems to think it is.”
“We’re the only two people that matter.”
“How real did that kiss in the bar feel to you?” He wasn’t sure how far the news had traveled—he hadn’t gotten any inquisitive phone calls from his family yet—but sooner or later there was bound to be gossip. Sal and Vicki weren’t the only witnesses to the kiss at the Puck & Shoot.
Marisa’s brows drew together. “Shouldn’t you be insulted that I used you for an ulterior motive?”
He shrugged. “I don’t feel objectified. If a beautiful woman wants to jump my bones,
she’ll get no argument from me.”
She tilted her head. “Why am I not surprised you wouldn’t put up a fight?”
He gave a lazy smile, but he didn’t miss the quick once-over she gave him from under lowered lashes. Her gaze lingered on the faded jeans he wore under a rust-colored tee and light jacket. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one fascinated by clothing’s ability to hide—and reveal.
