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He hooks a big arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his chest, and my stomach flutters at the contact. “Get over here, my little fire-breathing dragon.”
Pippa chokes on her drink, laughing.
“That isnotmy nickname,” I tell him, elbowing him.
Rory just smiles before his hands come to my waist and he lifts me into his lap.
“Really?” I mutter at him over my shoulder, praying that in the bar’s dim lighting, he can’t see me flushing. God, even sitting in his lap, he’s so tall. His thighs are solid and warm under me and I just—
This is a lot. He’s all around me. My pulse jolts. This is so much more intense than I thought it would be.
Like he can sense my thoughts, Rory’s hand smooths over my back in a comforting motion.
“Play nice, fire-breather.”
Another strained laugh lodges itself in my throat, and Ihatethat I like that nickname, but my name catches my attention. Pippa’s looking at me with a question in her eyes.
“We’re talking about the skating event in December,” she explains. “It’s for the players and their partners.” Her smile turns impish, and I cringe, because I already know where this is going. She looks to Rory. “Hazel can’t skate.”
“What?” He’s baffled. “You work for a hockey team and you can’t skate?”
“We don’t do physio on the ice.”
“You need to know how to skate,” he says.
“Youneed to know how to skate. I don’t need to balance on knives on a slippery surface. Regular ground with sneakers is fine for me.”
“It’s because she fell as a kid,” Pippa adds.
“Pippa.” I stare at her. It’s myshut up nowlook. She wiggles her eyebrows.Make me, her expression says.
Rory hums a teasing, sympathetic noise and rubs a hand up and down my back. “Poor Hazel. You’re scared of skating?”
“I’m not scared.” My voice is too high. “I’m not scared,” I say again in my regular voice. “I’m busy, and I don’t want to get hurt.”
“I’ll teach you.” Connor interrupts, taking a seat at the booth, wearing a stupid smirk. His eyes move over me, sitting in Rory’s lap, and there’s an edge to his gaze, like he doesn’t like what he sees.
Rory tenses, his hands tightening on my waist.
“I’llteach you,” Rory cuts in, wrapping his arm across my stomach, looking down at me in challenge. It’s the competitiveness I see in him on the ice.Play along, his eyes say. “I won’t let you fall.”
My instinct is to fight him, but we’re supposed to be pretending and making Connor wildly jealous, so I force a soft smile and gaze up at him like I’m besotted.
“I’d love that,” I say softly.
I’ve never used this voice with a guy in my life, and from the way Rory’s eyes spark with laughter, I think he might know that.
“Good.” His mouth curves higher like he’s won something. “So would I.”
Heat rises on my cheeks. Our lips are so close to each other, only inches apart. I glance away first and reach for my drink, taking a sip just to do something with my hands.
“Aren’t you two cute.” Connor’s tone is light, but I can hear the edge under his words. “Wearing your guy’s jersey and everything.”
My whole body tenses at his perusal, but Rory presses another quick, warm kiss to my temple, and all my thoughts stop.
“I pretty much had to wrestle her into it,” he says against me.
This isn’t real, because there’s no way Rory’s brushing his lips against my skin in that sweet, intoxicating way. Where the hell did he learn to act like this?
