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“So, big hockey fan?” he asked as we walked toward the garage.
“I don’t know yet,” I said with a smile and a noncommittal shrug. “Are you?”
“Yeah. I used to play.” A slight smile played over his lips. I couldn’t read the emotion that flashed over his face. Regret? Nostalgia? Longing? “A long time ago.”
“And now you have to just root for the Devils?”
His answering smile was a quick flash of his teeth. “I wouldn’t say I root for them. But I like to watch sometimes.”
“I was way too invested in tonight’s game,” I said with a laugh. “I only saw a few minutes of it. But it was exciting.”
“Did you see Carter go down?”
I nodded. I couldn’t understand the expression on his face. Curiosity? Concern? Satisfaction? Whatever emotion it was, it was gone in a second, too fast to read.
We reached the dark parking garage. It felt too empty and cavernous, our feet echoing as we headed toward my car.
“This is me,” I said, and when I pointed at the Civic, he didn’t try to hide the face he pulled. “Hey! It’s a perfectly fine car. It gets me from home to work, that’s all I need.”
“But what about what you want, Kennedy?”
“I never know what I want,” I said with a laugh. I slid into the driver’s seat.
He put his hand on the top of my car door to stop it from closing and dropped a business card inside. Then he closed my door for me, as if he knew I’d be nervous and he wanted to make sure I felt safe.
I popped the locks closed, giving him an apologetic smile.
“Good idea. Stay safe, Kennedy.” He patted the top of the car. His deep, sexy voice was muffled through the glass, but I could still hear him. “And call me, if you choose.”
“What am I going to call you for?” I asked him with faux innocence.
He grinned back at me as if he had plenty of ideas. But all he said was, “Call me for a date.”
“A date?” With a strange man I met on the street?
But he was alluring.
“A date,” he said with confidence. Then he stepped back from the car. “Good night, Kennedy.”
I pulled out of the parking spot, my hands clumsy on the steering wheel as if I were too conscious of his gaze. I already had questionable parking skills in a tight garage like this.
As I drove home, I couldn’t help replaying the night. The memory of how I’d embarrassed myself in front of Carter rose, and I groaned out loud now that I was in the safety of my own car.
So embarrassing. Usually, I would have re-lived that moment six times on the way home and another dozen at 2 am.
But then I thought of Greyson, and I found myself smiling all the way home.
6
Inever called my mystery man.
I texted him.
Hey, it’s Kennedy from the other night.
This is Greyson. Are you texting me to ask me out?
I thought you were asking me out.
