Breakout (A Dallas Demons Hockey Romance) (19 page)

Chapter 23

The One Online Dating Service Profile Question:
How important is it to you that your potential partner celebrates holidays?

My write-in answer:
I can’t wait to celebrate Christmas with Niko. I know the holidays are going to be a wonderful, romantic celebration with him.

“Niko,” I say as we stroll through NorthPark Center, “remember how you said Thanksgiving felt more real this year?”

Niko squeezes my hand in his. “Yeah, I do.”

“I think Christmas is more magical now that I have you,” I say, smiling at him.

He looks down at me as we pause by a Christmas tree and a huge display of poinsettias. Holiday music is piping through speakers, the mall is crowded with shoppers, and I’m overwhelmed with joy. I’ve always loved Christmas, but this is different. I feel full of love and happiness, and everything I adore about the season seems heightened. The trees are prettier. The scent of gingerbread more heavenly.

I gaze up at him, love surging through my heart. I long to tell him, but I don’t want to freak him out. We’ve only been dating a few weeks.

But I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.

A smile passes over his face, revealing the dimple in his cheek. Niko slides one hand around my back, drawing me into his chest. I put my one free hand on his grey sweater, as my other hand is wrapped around my gingerbread latte.

“Is that right?” he asks, his Mediterranean Sea-colored eyes dancing at me.

“Mmmm-hmmm,” I murmur, happily inhaling his cedar and spice cologne.

“Good, because I feel the same way,” he says, dropping a sweet kiss on my lips.

I relish the feel of his soft lips on mine. Niko lifts his head to look at me.

“I wish we weren’t spending Christmas apart,” he says softly.

I nod. “I hate it, too.”

I know he needs to go back to Baltimore since he has three days off, but there’s a part of me that wishes I could go with him, even if it’s to spend the day after Christmas with him. But I’m sure in his mind it’s too soon to bring me home, and I understand that.

And it’s not like you’ve invited him home to your house, and your parents live in Dallas
, my conscience whispers.

I swallow my guilt. I know Niko wants to meet my parents. But I need to reveal the truth about my background. I want him to understand while I come from great privilege, it’s not what I need or want in my life.

Because as long as I have Niko, I have what matters most.

“Lexi, where’d you go?” Niko asks.

I blink. “Huh?”

Niko grins. “You left me there for a second.”

I shove those thoughts aside. “I was thinking of my Christmas list. I need to shop. Christmas is next week. And I haven’t started.”

“So where should we start?” Niko asks.

“Neiman Marcus.”

Niko flashes me a wicked smile. “High rolling it on the gifts, baby?”

So now probably would not be the time to tell him that my mother exclusively buys presents at Neiman’s and underneath our tree is filled with only their shiny holiday boxes.

I clear my throat. “Well, my mom’s favorite skin care cream is there, and that’s what I’m getting her this year for Christmas.”

Which isn’t a lie. It is her favorite cream.

“Well, let’s go get it. I’m determined to cross some things off your list today.”

I laugh. “Oh, is that so? What about your list?”

We head in the direction of the store, Niko’s hand wrapped around mine, and my anxiety about my family loosens up at bit.

“My list,” he says, “is done. My parents like gift cards, so that’s easy. Dimitri and I don’t exchange gifts. I got my nephew some toys from Amazon and had them shipped to Greektown, to Mom and Dad’s house, so they don’t have to lug them there for Christmas Day. And I got my sister-in-law a spa gift certificate.”

“Well done,” I say as we enter Neiman Marcus.

“But that leaves the most important person on my list, but I can’t shop with you right now,” Niko says, winking at me.

My heart flutters. Oh, I love this man so much.

“You’re enough for me,” I say truthfully.

“Nope, I’m not. You can’t unwrap me on Christmas,” he says. “Well, you can when I get back, but you still need a present.”

Oooh, I also love his sexy style.

“I like that plan,” I say. “So maybe we can stop at the lingerie department after I get Mom’s gift.”

“No way. Unless they sell flannel pants with sushi rolls on them.”

“Niko, stop.”

“You stop. Those are hot. How many times do I have to prove it?”

I blush, and he laughs.

I lead him through the bustling cosmetics area. It’s decorated elaborately for Christmas and filled with customers studying the perfumes and holiday makeup sets.

I head to the counter for my mother’s very expensive line. Part of me wants to shove Niko over to look at cologne while I buy this, so he won’t see the price I’m about to pay for my mom’s cream.

But maybe it’s a good thing, so I can reassure him I don’t buy this for myself. In fact, I’m really fond of my Carol’s Daughter cream and it’s only fourteen dollars.

“May I help you?” the saleswoman asks.

“Um, yes,” I say. “I need the one ounce moisturizing cream.”

She nods and goes to retrieve it.

“This stuff is expensive,” I say to Niko.

“Yeah?” He moves to study the product display.

The woman comes back. “Is there anything else I can get for you today?”

“No, that’s it,” I say.

“That will be one hundred and eighty-four dollars and three cents,” she says.

Niko’s head jerks up. “For
one ounce
?”

“Yes,” the saleswoman says. “But it’s an
amazing product
.”

Niko points to the larger jar of cream on display. “How much is this one?

“That one is four hundred and sixty-five dollars,” she says easily.

Oh shit
.

An appalled look passes over his face. I quickly hand the woman my debit card, and she disappears to ring up my purchase and wrap it.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Niko says, his voice incredulous. “Who would pay that much for face cream?”

“Mom swears by it,” I say, avoiding his eyes.

“For that price it should come with a person to apply it every day. That’s
crazy
.”

“For the record, my facial cream is fourteen dollars.”

“Now that’s reasonable.” Niko eyes all the expensive products. “But I don’t get paying this kind of money for skin care. Does your mom use all of this?”

Fuck.

“Um, yes,” I admit. I can’t lie to him.

I pause for a moment. Is this the time? Should I explain all of this to him now?

“Lexi!”

I freeze.
Oh no. No, no, no
. That voice.

It’s my mom
.

I slowly turn around and see my mom and dad heading toward us.

Damn it, damn it, damn it!

“Sweetie, are you shopping today, too?” my mom asks, smiling warmly as she approaches me, her arms filled with Neiman Marcus shopping bags.

She stops when she realizes Niko is standing next to me.

“I know who you are,” she says, her eyes sparkling. “You must be Niko. I’m Charlotte, Lexi’s mom. We’ve heard so much about you!”

Niko smiles at them. “Likewise. And it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He goes to shake her hand, but he can’t due to all the bags she’s holding.

“It’s okay,” my mom says. “What can I say? I can never get enough of shopping.”

My dad has an equal number of bags in his hands, and I see that Niko is studying all of them.

“I’m Andrew,” he says, placing the bags on the ground so he can shake Niko’s hand. “Nice to finally meet you.”

Niko grips his hand. “You, too.”

“We keep asking Lexi to bring you over,” my mom says, “but she always says you two are busy.”

Panic grips me. She couldn’t have said a worse thing to Niko!

Niko’s eyes reflect surprise. “Oh?”

“We’ve been eager to meet you,” my dad interjects. “And it looks like now is the time, right, Lexi? You two should join us for lunch.”

“Yes, why don’t we go to the café and get to know each other?” Mom adds, referring to one of the restaurants inside the department store.

Niko turns to me. “What do you say, Lexi? You’re good with us having lunch with your parents, right?”

My stomach tightens at the edge in his voice. It’s subtle, my parents would never detect it, but I do.

Niko is hurt that they’ve wanted to meet him, and I’ve not introduced him to them.

“Ms. Stewart, may I get your signature?” the saleswoman asks.

“Of course,” I say, trying my best to stay calm when an icy fear has gripped me.

I scrawl my name on the receipt, and she hands me the bag. Then I turn back to Niko.

“And of course to lunch,” I say.

Niko’s eyes question me, which is like a kick to the gut.

“Fantastic!” Mom says eagerly. “Let’s go get a bottle of wine and have something to eat.”

They walk ahead of us, but I feel nothing but tension from Niko as he walks beside me, which breaks my heart. He thinks I’ve kept him from them, which I have, but not for the reason I’m sure he’s thinking. I was protecting him, but he doesn’t know that.

Now he’s about to find out, without warning, my background.

And I pray he won’t change his mind about me afterward.

“So cheers to finally meeting you, Niko,” my mom says, raising her glass.

“Thank you,” Niko says, smiling as we all clink our glasses together. “I’m happy I can finally meet both of you, too.”

I take a sip of the chilled chardonnay, and it burns my stomach. I’ve been in full on anxiety mode since my parents bumped into us at the skin care counter.

And more to the point, my stomach is knotted up because I know Niko is hurt, but he’s going to sit here and act like nothing is bothering him at all.

Which makes it worse.

I reach for his hand underneath the table, needing to touch him. I find his hand, but instead of intertwining his fingers with mine like he always does, he moves his hand away.

My heart crashes into my stomach. He’s
pissed.
And the fact that he’s so furious and hurt makes me want to bawl.

Instead, I shift my gaze to the menu, trying to keep myself from falling apart.

“Niko,” my dad says, “Lexi has told us so much about you. And how talented you are and how well you suit the Dallas Demons.”

I lift my eyes, and Niko smiles at my dad.

“Lexi is incredibly generous in her description,” Niko says softly.

“Own it,” my dad says, going into power businessman mode. “That’s how you move ahead in the world. You own your strengths and others’ views of you.”

A wave of nausea hits me. My dad and Niko are complete opposites when it comes to approaching a career. My dad is about climbing, climbing, climbing. More titles, more money, more prestige.

Niko, on the other hand, is passionate about hockey. Period. There is no climbing for him now that he’s here.

“So you’re a TV producer, right?” my mom asks.

“Yes,” Niko says, taking another sip of wine. “I got the call on the fly to come down here and take the package after they fired their producer. I hope they like what they see enough offer me a long-term contract.”

“You don’t have one now?” my father asks, incredulous.

Niko clears his throat. “No, unfortunately, I don’t.”

“Oh, Niko, what will you do if they don’t offer you one?” Mom asks, her voice full of concern.

“He’ll be offered one,” I interject. “Niko’s done an amazing job on the telecasts. He’s a
brilliant
producer, and TATS won’t want to lose him.”

The server comes back to our table, and we place our orders. Since I can’t fathom the thought of eating right now since my stomach is in agony, I select a salad I know I will do nothing more than pick at.

After he leaves, I pray the topic of Niko’s contract is dropped.
Please, please, can’t we have stupid talk, like about how the weather is today?

“Of course, producing is step one in your career path, right?” Dad asks.

Shit. I love my dad, but he only sees career trajectories in his line of vision.

“Um, no,” Niko says, a crease forming in his brow. “My lifelong dream has always been to be a professional hockey producer. It’s what I’m passionate about.”

“I think that’s wonderful,” Mom says, her hazel eyes shining brightly at Niko. “Pursue your passion.”