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“I think it’s your fault,” Kingston said conversationally.
Taking a shallow breath, I shoved the last soggy fry into my mouth and picked my head up.
I was immediately under a microscope. Kingston’s head was cocked, a tornado of unnamable emotions flickering across his face as he studied me. I froze under the eyes of a watchful predator, afraid of what he might see in my face.
“What?” I askednervously.
He stared at me for a moment more, picking up his empty beer bottle and spinning it between his hands. “Mason. He wasn’t this weird until you showed up.”
A short laugh burst out of me at the unexpected comment, and I collapsed against the back of my chair at the break in the tension. “Heisa weirdo, huh?”
Mason’s exit had been less than graceful but, considering the circumstances that only I was privy to, completely understandable
“That’s the thing; he’s not usually. He’s been this serious machine since he was drafted. He’s all hockey, all the time,” Kingston said, his voice light, but his gaze still intense on my face. “It’s kind of stressful to watch. He’s so determined to provehimself.”
“But he has proven himself, right?”
“Yeah, he has. And he still is. But now it looks like he’s having fun. Jones kept trying to loosen him up a little, but he wasn’t having much luck. Then you show up, and it’s like there’s new life in him. It’s not just his personality either. He’s even been playing better these last couple games. You said you guys grew up together, and I’ve seen how close you are. Hell, he was at your house when I picked you up yesterday. He’s practically your family, right? Why?”
“He’s my soulmate,” I said without hesitation. Kingston furrowed his brow, so I elaborated. “From the second I met him, it felt like I’d known him my whole life. We were with each other all the time and still are. I’ve talked to him every single day for the past nine years. That’s more than I talk to my brother. At this point, Mason knows me better than I know myself. Hell, he’s the reason I’m still playing hockey.”
“What doyou mean?”
“Well, after my parents died, I never wanted to put on a pair of skates ever again. It just didn’t feel right without them in the stands, cheering me on. But Mason pulled me out of my house and threw me out onto a rink because he knew I needed it. He’s always been there for me, just like I’ll always be therefor him.”
“And you make each other betterplayers.”
I nodded.“Exactly.”
Silence stretched, then, “You really love hockey.”
I scrunched my eyebrows at Kingston. It wasn’t a question, but I answered anyway. “Of course I do. Why else would Ibe here?”
Kingston hummed and flicked at the peeling label of his bottle. “Yeah.”
Suddenly, a sea of Chanel perfume passed us. The redhead had moved from the bar and was taking a seat at a table a few yards away. She flipped her scarlet hair and settled into a chair that allowed her the perfect view of our table and theman at it.
The woman didn’t escape Kingston’s notice, but he didn’t acknowledge her either.
I narrowed my eyes at her. My un-teammate-like feelings toward Kingston and my competitive nature were being spurred on by the wine. It was probably time to get out of here.
Kingston must have had the same thought. “Guess it’s time to go up. Some of us have a game to playtomorrow.”
I snorted, and we got up. Kingston settled the tab at the bar while being watched by piercing green eyes. Seconds later, he was back, and I thanked him for the drinks as we made our way to the elevator, my body swaying a little more than I anticipated. I wasn’t drunk, but I wasn’t completely sober. A pleasant fluidity filled my limbs as we came to a stop at the elevator doors.
He pushed the call button, and I looked at him while we waited. His face was relaxed, the exact opposite of the haughty, scrunched face I methim with.
“What’s up?”he asked.
“I thought you were an asshole.”Whoops. “But you’re not,” I rushed out, blushing a little. Dear God, I was losing control ofmy mouth.
Then Sebastian Kingston threw back his head and laughed—loud and full-bodied. My jaw fell open unattractively as he continued. Wow. I’d just made The King laugh. Something like that deserved a medal, right?
Eventually, Kingston’s laughter settled down and I picked my jaw off the floor, but I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He should have more fun. He really did have a captivating smile. And his five o’clock shadow was nice too; the short dark stubble contrasted beautifully against his skin and brought out the pink ofhis lips.
The elevator opened in front of us. I tore my eyes away from his face.Damn it, Warren.
We went inside and hit our floor numbers—fifteen and sixteen.
