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It’s great to be one of them, even if it is for a few minutes.
As soon as Neil Diamond gives us the last of his lyrics, the dance floor thins out and I turn around, searching for Foster.
This is exactly whyThe Crushneeds to be pushed into a box, taped shut, and shipped to a different country.
Foster is on the side of the dance floor, talking to a woman who’s everything I’m not; tall, thin, gorgeous, and a real blonde. Not some brunette in a wig with a few extra curves.
She’s exactly his type.
The kind of woman he gets photographed with almost every week, only this one’s in a sexy nurse costume instead of a gorgeous dress.
He’s leaning into her, whispering something in her ear. She’s got her hands all over him. His shoulders. His chest. His arms.
Everywhere I wish I could.
I glance away. I can’t look at them any longer. It won’t do me any good.
I’m not surprised, but this reality check is like a sucker punch to the gut. My chest aches, my stomach drops, and my mood is instantly doused with darkness.
This is why I don’t need to be getting involved with him.
With anyone.
But especially a player, both on and off the ice.
It was the stark reminder I needed—the bucket of cold water dumped over my head.
It’s not a mistake I’ll make again.
CHAPTER FIVE
“What are you doing here, Marley?” I huff, crossing my arms, and glancing toward Avery. She’s still dancing with the girls, still laughing, smiling, and having a good time. Most importantly, she’s away from here.
It’s better if Marley keeps her distance from… well, everyone. Not because there’s anything going on between the two of us, but because the woman is certifiable.
She shows up after games, at random parties and charity events, and it’s always the same thing.
“Come on, Foster, you know you want me. It was always going to be us. You’re my end game.” She purses her lips and rubs her hands across my shoulders and tries to trail them down my chest, but I push them away.
It doesn’t stop her. It never does.
I sigh, rubbing my temples with both hands then scrubbing them down my face. “We’ve gone over this before. There was no us, and there never will be. You really need to stop all this. You can’t keep showing up at places you know I’ll be.”
“It’s not my fault you met the wrong sister first. She keeps telling me how good you were. We can be even better.” Again, with the roaming hands. I take a step back, hoping she’ll take the hint.
Doesn’t do any good, because she takes two steps forward, brushing her chest against mine.
Personal space never seems to matter to Marley, and I hate it. She knows nothing about me. Not really.
Just the same old shit that everyone else knows—my hockey stats, salary, and love of women.
Well,loveis a strong word.
I like women. I like them enough for a fun time.
Except for girls like Marley.
“Your sister was just a bit of fun. I don’t even remember her name. Marley, you’re an attractive woman, you can have anyone you want, but it can’t be me. It willneverbe me.”
