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He backs out of the parking space, then guides us out onto the main road.
“I think I used up all my energy trying to stay warm. Is it always that cold in the arena?”
“For the most part, but keep in mind, while we’re playing we’re sweating buckets. Goalies can sweat up to five pounds off during a game. I guarantee only the fans are feeling the cold.”
“Five pounds? That’s dangerous,” I say.
“Yeah, that’s why goalies need to drink so much.”
We fall silent for the rest of the ride. When Niall pulls into his driveway and parks, I’m disappointed. I was hoping ourconversation would lead to something that would hint at how he feels about me. But no such luck.
He shuts down the engine, pulling the key from the ignition. “Stay there,” he says, hurrying around the front of the SUV to open my door.
“Thank you.” I take hold of his offered arm while I climb down. He pushes the door closed and walks beside me all the way to my front door. Turning to face him, I suddenly feel like I’m on a first date. Will he or won’t he kiss me?
“Thank you for the ticket,” I say, trying to hurry this awkwardness along. “And for the drinks and food.” He wouldn’t let me chip in anything toward the bill.
“You’re welcome.”
“I had a lot of fun at the game.” Jesus, I already told him this at the pub.
“I’m glad. I know it’s late, but I was hoping I could come in for a bit,” he says.
Holy shit. He wants to get laid.
CHAPTER 14
NIALL
“To talk. Just talk,”I clarify when I notice the shocked look on her face.
“Sure.” She turns the key and I follow her inside, closing the door behind us. Slipping her coat and shoes off, she places them in the closet. “Let’s go to the living room,” she suggests.
We sit on opposite ends of her couch, but it feels like there’s a mile between us. Knowing I need to find a way to broach the possibility of us helping each other is making it worse.
“What’s up? You obviously have something on your mind. Just tell me and get it over with,” she says.
Right at this moment I love and hate her directness. It’s the impetus I need to have this discussion, but I’m still not sure what to say.
Leaning forward, I rest my elbows on my widespread knees and stare down at the hardwood floor. “I’m not sure how to say what I need to,” I say.
“Try one word at a time,” she suggests, and I laugh.
“I wish it were that easy.”
“Are you dying?” she asks. My head snaps up as I stare at her in stunned silence. “Well?” she presses.
“No. It’s nothing like that.”
She shrugs. “Then it can’t be that horrible. Just spit it out.”
“I want to strike a bargain with you. It’s a bit unorthodox, but I think it could benefit us both.” I rake my teeth over my bottom lip.
“Are you trying to start a friends-with-benefits relationship with me?” she asks.
My lower jaw unhinges. “No.”
“Oh. Okay.”
