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She rolls her eyes at me. “Please, I’ve read the tabloids. I know all about you, Teller.”
She proceeds to nibble on her scone, and my shoulders drop.
“You read about me, huh? Well, don’t keep me in suspense...”
After she swallows her bite, she smiles and dusts her hands clean of crumbs, preparing to give me the rundown. “You play hard, you party hard, and you?—”
“Fuck hard?”
“And you’re a womanizer.Just because I was in a committed relationship, doesn’t mean I can’t spot a fuckboy. You’re not coming near my vagina.”
“I could come on your back if that works better?” I wink, and she actually blushes. She’s cute. Most of the beautiful women I talk to are trying to sleep with me. It’s easy to accidentally fall into the flirty version of myself.
She scoffs. “Okay. I’m not a bunny, so this”—she waves her arms around—“thingyou’re doing, I’m immune to it.”
That kind of pisses me off. I don’t like being judged as if sex is a bad thing. “And what would work on you? Being a narcissistic egomaniac? Is that more your type, Sunshine?”
“No, you’re not my type at all.”
I laugh. “Well, that’s good, because I only take home good girls who ask nicely.”
She tries to act flippant, but I saw her pupils dilate.Somebody’s got a praise kink...She studies me with narrowed eyes, almost as if she’s considering it. I already know what my answer would be.
I realize I’ve made a grave miscalculation when she starts laughing. It’s a laughingat, notwithsituation.
“Oh my God, is that what you say to women—that’syour line? And this works for you?”
She plucks the last bite ofmy muffinoffmy plateand pops it between her lush lips.
Goddamn it, I was going to eat that.
“Yep. Scones are definitely better.”
Standing from her chair, she gathers her coffee and messenger bag and swallows the bite.Mylast bite.With my tongue tucked inside my cheek, I shake my head.
“See you around, Teller,” she says, pushing in her chair and starting toward the door. Her smile is forced and doesn’t wrinkle the corner of her eyes.
I call after her, “I meant what I said earlier. Reach out if things get tough.”
She’s already stepping out the door but holds her hand up to let me know she heard me.
I shake my head and smirk. “Jordan—fuckin’—Landry.”
I’m glad she’s not marrying that prick; motherfucker didn’t even know what he had.
6
“Good game, boys! Good game!”
Coming off the ice after a win feels great, feels even better when you’re undefeated. We’ve hit our mark against Florida. I’m not ashamed to admit I love sending teams home on the plane with an L. My goal didn’t hurt. It’s hard to be humble when you’re the best. I wait until every guy is off before I follow them into the tunnel. Captain’s the last to leave the ship—and last to leave the ice.
In the locker room, the guys cheer while I check the whiteboard. Normally, I’d be the first one to suggest we hit up the bars, but these days, I take care of some housekeeping before I party. Work hard, party hard, like Jordan said. Wish I could stop thinking about her. I gotta make sure we are ready for our next away game.
“I’m skipping bikes tonight, I’ll burn it off with Bridg,” Lonan Burke says. He’s obsessed with his wife.
“Don’t you have to wait to have sex after having a baby?” O’Callahan asks. Lonan and Bridget had their son, Ethan,not long ago.
“Hit our six weeks on Sunday. God . . . her fuckin’ tits right now . . .”
