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“Bossy, bossy.”I’m not ready to give up the rise I’m getting out of her even though I know I should knock my shit off and hit the sack. With back-to-back games the last two days and not enough sleep before early skate this morning, I’m wiped.
But this is more than Nora’s said to me at one time since… Well, since she stopped talking to me except to tell me to turn the volume down— easier said than done when you’ve got five hockey players over watching a game. Or to wake me at the crack of dawn when I didn’t even get off a plane until two a.m. to let me know that my mailbox is overflowing, or tell me I parked in the wrong spot, or that I can’t hold the elevator with my gear when I need to run back to my apartment for three damn seconds because I left my keys in the door.
I’m a child. I know. But only with Nora. And only because those hot, red splotches on her cheekbones are so much better than thatnothinglook I get from her when I’m behaving. That bland, disinterested glance sucks. Especially after the way she used to look at me.
Yeah, it was only a week, nearly five months ago when she moved into Diane’s. But from the first time our paths crossed, that wide smile and quick laugh had me looking closer, lingering to chat with her when I’d normally keep moving. I found myself drawn into conversations with her I’d still be thinking about when I hit the ice or the weight room, or when I was supposed to be paying attention to a trainer, reporter, or my brother. And the way she looked at me? I’d be thinking about those shy glances and warm blushes when I crawled into bed at night. Wondering why I hadn’t made a move already.
But then it was too late. Everything changed in a blink, and Nora wasn’t interested in me at all. Not even as friends, and I’m friends with everybody.
I should have let it go and forgotten about her, given her a nod when we passed in the hall, and stopped looking for something in her eyes that said the connection was still there. But I didn’t. Instead, I started trying to get something else.
A reaction.
Damn, Nora gives good reaction.Hot and sharp. Whip quick with a sting you’re not likely to forget.
“I’ve got more important things to do than watch you standing around in a towel.”
“Nice as the scenery may be, though, right?” I ask, wondering if I can get a laugh out of her. A smile. Get her into bed. Nah, zero chance of that. But maybe another scowl, at the very least.
She looks me over from top to bottom and back up again.Jesus, the feel of her eyes on me is—
“Whatever.”
And that flat, bored tone? Color me impressed. Because I know for a fact, this body— in a suit, in running gear, in beat-up jeans and a T-shirt —trips her up. Five months ago, it made her blush and stammer. Three, I’d still catch her eyes where they weren’t supposed to be.
Now, in a towel? Yeah, she’s a little liar.
But I like it. Even if she can’t stand me.
Which reminds me… Who the hell was banging a bunny against her wall? The guys crash at my place sometimes. Not always alone.
Ehh, might as well let her think it’s me.
“So why the rough week? I thought Diane was in France. Something happen while she was gone?”
She looks like she’s about to tell me to piss off— totally deserved, obviously. But then her shoulders slump, and she lets out a weary sigh that tugs at the place in my chest that never quite got the memo about the Nora ship having sailed.
“Yeah. She met a guy. She fell in love. And she shut down her business because she’s not coming back.” She takes a shaky breath that tells me her flippant tone is as much of a lie as herwhateverhad been. “I’m happy for her, of course. But it leaves me without a job, three days to find a place to live, and one to finish packing up all her belongings so they’re ready for the movers tomorrow at two.”
She’s moving.Leaving.
“You have some girlfriends you can crash with?” I can probably help with the job part.
She opens her mouth, her head halfway into a shake before she catches herself and, remembering who she’s talking to, cuts herself off with a grumpy growl. “I’ll figure it out. But I need your stuff out of Diane’s place.”
This time, I save the smirk as I push off the doorframe. “Go take your five minutes to mourn your plant. I’ll change and meet you over there.”
* * *
Five minutes later,I’m dressed in a pair of red and white Slayers Hockey athletic pants and a T-shirt, and I’ve fired off three texts putting feelers out about jobs.
I shouldn’t care.
Nora was right, we aren’t friends. She’s not my problem, and, after this week, she’s not even going to be my neighbor. She’s just a pretty girl with a stingy smile and eyes that either tell you everything you didn’t want to know or nothing at all.
Except that isn’t who she used to be. And one of the things I know about Nora from back then is that she has something like a dozen siblings and getting out of her parents’ house was a big deal for her. She doesn’t want to go back.
And for whatever fucked-up reason, I don’t want to let her go.
