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It takes me a moment to figure out he’s walking this way. In a panic, I pretend to be busy.
“Lily.” His deep voice vibrates through his chest, and I swear I feel its ripple effect drifting over my skin.
I look up and grin nervously, wiping the already sparkling clean work surface with the dish towel, and manage a small, “Yeah?”
“What time do you finish?”
“Nine.”
“I’ll see you then.”
“Okay,” on auto-response, I reply.
But, wait, what?
And then the soft ding of the bell rings, indicating he’s gone and I’m still standing here staring off into the space where he was standing, wondering what the hell just happened.
“Well, what do you know? Ash Johansson, the most aloof man in hockey, has a thing for Lily Murphy.” Kourtney throws her head back, laughing. “He just ignored them all.” She pauses in astonishment. “For you.”
Holy hell balls, he did.
My heart flutters fast in my chest as if it’s trying to get my attention.
The feeling of being watched causes me to glance over at the girls perched around the table, and that’s when I find four sets of death stares burning right through me. If looks could kill, I’d be reeling from the pain and begging for them to stop.
“Oh, dear. They do not look happy,” Kourtney whispers under her breath.
I pull a fake smile so wide it hurts my face and wave over at them. “Make friends with the mean girls,” I instruct Kourtney through the side of my mouth, and she joins in, waving.
Robotically, the four blond replicas stand in unison, and with their noses in the air, they glide out of the door without a second glance.
“Holy freaking shit,” Kourtney squeals as the door closes.
My shoulders drop an inch. “I know. Those girls are intense.”
She waves her hand through the air, dismissing my focus on them. “Forget them, Lily. I meant Ash ‘The Bear’ Johansson. He’s meeting you here after your shift.”
Oh shit, he’s coming back.
I turn to focus on the mirror on the back wall to check myself out. Flushed face and smudged mascara under my eyes. “I look hideous.”
“You look beautiful.” Kourtney comes up behind me and lays her hands on my shoulders.
“I didn’t wash my hair today.” I smooth my fingers over it.
“I have some dry shampoo in my bag. Slick on a bit of lip gloss and hey, presto.” Her face softens. “You don’t need anything else. You, Lily Murphy, are gorgeous.”
My eyes widen. “I’m not good with guys.” The palms of my hands feel sweaty.
Wrinkles line her brow in confusion.
I close my eyes and whisper, “I’m nervous.”
“Lily, he wants to see you after work. That’s all.”
“Are you sure?” I’m so inexperienced and he looks like he knows the way around a woman’s body.
Still holding onto my shoulders, she turns me around to face her. “Yes. But what are you so worried about? You’re twenty-two, beautiful. You’ve dated guys, right?” Her eyes are full of curiosity and tenderness.
