Winning It All (Hometown Players Book 4) (15 page)

A moment later Michael Choochinsky and Chris Dixon are pulling up some extra chairs and we’ve formed a group. Everyone is chatting at once. Audrey starts talking with Chooch. Dix has two kids, so he starts talking to my sister about formula and baby toys and colic. Jordan shows up and we order another round and move to a bigger table across the restaurant. Sebastian still ends up beside me somehow. Then Josh is there. Everyone is laughing and chatting and another round is ordered. I try in vain to stare straight ahead and focus on what Sasha is saying to Dix, but I can feel the heat of Frenchie’s stare beating into the side of my face, so finally I relent and glance at him.

“Miss me?” he asks, his light blue eyes dancing.

I roll my eyes but can’t fight a bit of a grin myself, because he’s just so ridiculous. “You haven’t been around? Hadn’t noticed.”

Bald-faced lie.

He looks crushed. “Guess I’ll have to work harder at giving you something to miss.”

I wrap both hands around my Bloody Mary, put the straw between my lips and take a long, slow sip. He makes the smallest little noise in the back of his throat that I’m sure no one can hear but me.

“I missed you.” He admits it so easily I’m floored. So floored I have no response. He seems to enjoy that and he leans closer—so close the stubble on his chin tickles my shoulder and I shiver a little. “Why are you so surprised by that? I’m not the one who is against this—us.”

I turn to face him and pull back a little because he’s leaning so close to me that if I don’t our lips will touch. And that can’t happen in public in front of everyone. Or ever. “Because you know exactly where to find me and you haven’t found me.”

His smile softens at that, becoming less cocky. “I thought you didn’t want to be found. At least not by me.”

“I don’t,” I reply softly, and for some reason my brain can’t comprehend, my heart adds, “I shouldn’t.”

“You know what they say, Shay,” he whispers, his stubble once again rubbing deliciously against my skin. “You won’t miss me if I don’t go away.”

Wow. Seriously? He’s been staying away from me because he wanted me to miss him?
So tell him you missed him, dumbass
, my heart wails at my brain, which completely ignores it. Instead I press my lips together and say nothing at all. Chooch says Sebastian’s name, trying to pull him into the conversation about golf he’s having with Josh and Jordan. I keep my hands around my glass to avoid resting one on his knee under the table. That’s all I want to do. Touch him. God, I miss touching him.

I’m smiling at the fact that this day turned out so very differently than I anticipated and I couldn’t be happier.

When Dix and I originally joined our goalie for a liquid brunch, it was simply to help Chooch, who had called me from a hotel room this morning because he’d walked out on Ainsley the night before. He was contemplating going back to her, and this being the first step to really ridding him of her, I jumped at the chance to meet him and make sure he didn’t weaken. Dix offered to join me. Dix was the most happily married guy I knew and the biggest advocate for coupledom, and even he knew Ainsley was a cancer Chooch need to cut out of his life.

A secondary reason, a selfish one, to meet Chooch was because it was a way to keep my mind off Shay. I was purposely avoiding her. I was giving her time to miss me—I hadn’t been kidding about that. But I also didn’t know what to say about what I’d seen her father do. Or if I should say anything. Not seeing her, though, was torture.

I had decided, right before Chooch called, that I was going to go to Elevate Fitness and talk to her. I wasn’t sure what I was going to say, or if I would mention what I saw with her dad, but I needed to see her again. Whether she wanted to or not, she responded to that kiss in the stairwell. But Chooch needed me, and I never blew off a teammate. Especially because I know Chooch was toying with the idea of going back to Ainsley, and that would be the worst possible thing, for him and our team. He was still playing like shit and I was hoping—we all were—that if she stayed gone he would be able to focus. Still, I wanted to see Shayne again so much I ached.

And then fate intervened, and there she was. When I first noticed her across the restaurant, I wanted to walk right over and grab her pretty head and lay my lips on hers. But Chooch was in the middle of pouring his heart out. I waited as long as I could—about an hour—until I was literally twitching in my seat trying to fight the urge to go talk to her.

“Dude, what the fuck?!” Dix had said and waved a hand in front of my face to get my attention again. He had been telling us a story about how he knew it was right with his wife, Maxine. “You could do to listen to this too. Didn’t your last relationship go all
Fatal Attraction
?”

“Sorry,” I muttered.

Both Dix and Chooch turned around to see what was so distracting. “I’ve been…involved with the girl over there.”

“The pregnant one?!” I give Dix a withering stare and he laughs. “What? With you anything is possible.”

“The one next to the pregnant one,” I explain, and both sets of eyes turn and stare at Shay. “Here name is Shay. She’s the sister of Avery’s old teammate, Trey. The guy who owns Elevate Fitness.”

“Really? You’re dating her?” Dix seemed shocked.

“Not technically.” I sighed. I don’t want to gossip about Shay so instead I just mutter, “It’s complicated.”

“She’s hot,” Dix says admiringly. “Nice eyes.”

“Nice everything,” I reply, and he smiles at that.

“She works at the gym, right? The girl in the green dress from the opening party?” Chooch says, his freckled face scrunching up a little as he strains to remember.

“Yoga teacher and nutritionist,” I tell Chooch.

“So is she bendy?” Chooch wants to know. “I hear you can fuck yoga girls with their legs behind their heads.”

I feel my skin turning pink. Dix chuckles, and Chooch raises his hand for a high-five. I reluctantly give it to him. “Shut up, okay,” I demand. “It’s not like that. I like her.”

“What do you mean?” Dix acts like he’s never, ever heard of the concept.

“I like her. I’m trying to date her,” I explain.

“Then maybe you should go over there and, you know,
talk
to her.” Dix’s words drip with sarcasm and so does his smile.

“I want to,” I admit. “It’s just complicated.”

“Well, then, I’m going to give you the same advice I’m giving Chooch,” Dix says. “Give up and get out.”

I shake my head and smile as I rise to my feet. “Nah. She’s just worth it.”

And that’s when I gave in and ordered a round for them, delivering her drink in person.

Now here we are, three hours later, at a bar a few doors down from the restaurant, ordering more drinks, listening to the Bon Jovi cover band and having a blast. Sasha is the only one who bailed, heading home shortly after we joined the girls. Shay had tried to leave too, but Audrey had used to birthday-girl powers to veto that. Shay pouted a little bit at first, but now she is on the dance floor with Audrey and Josh rocking out to “You Give Love a Bad Name.” She’s moving her hips, her arms up by her head, her eyes almost closed as she sings along. She’s looks fucking delicious. My mouth is watering.

So far two random guys have tried to dance with her, lumbering up behind and bumping against her. Every time she moved away from them, her sparkling gray eyes drifting to me.
She wants this as much as I do
, my brain screamed. Or maybe it was my dick. Sometimes, around her, it’s hard to differentiate.

“He’s going to do something he’ll regret,” I hear Dix say, and I tear my eyes off Shay. He’s frowning, still looking over at Chooch, who is now standing even closer to the long, lean brunette.

“We want him over Ainsley, don’t we?” Jordan counters, taking a swig from his beer bottle. “Sometimes the fastest route to that is fucking someone else.”

“Chooch isn’t technically broken up with Ainsley,” I remind my teammates. “They haven’t had a final talk. He just got mad at her and spent the night at a hotel. We need to get him home and make sure he ends this properly before he sleeps around.”

Jessie must have walked up behind me in the middle of my little lecture because suddenly her slender arm is around my shoulder, and I glance sideways and see her face. “Seb is right. Ainsley might be a total bitch, but Chooch did love her. Let’s make sure he doesn’t disrespect that. Go over there and untangle him from the girl.”

She gives her fiancé a little push; Jordan groans but wanders away from us and over to our goalie. She turns to me with a grin. “And now to fix your love life.”

“I’d be forever grateful if you did,” I reply honestly. “I have no idea how to do it myself.”

Jessie looks over to where Shay is still dancing her ever-loving heart out. “She likes you. She likes me too, but she was blowing both of us off, and today I figured out why.”

“Hockey.”

“Her father, more specifically,” Jessie adds and wraps another arm around my shoulder. “I think he’s a total narcissistic dick.”

“A cheating, narcissistic dick.” I lower my voice a little, even though it’s loud in here. “I saw him making out with a woman at the game the other night. Not his wife.”

“Shut up,” Jessie bursts out in shock and then she groans, dropping her head onto my shoulder. “Ugh. Did you tell her?”

“No. I didn’t know what to say,” I reply. “I mean, it’s not my family or my business and…I think she knows anyway.”

“I think you should tell her,” Jessie says.

My eyes land on Shay again, and this time she’s looking back. The song ends and the cover band goes right into “Living on a Prayer,” one of the only Bon Jovi songs I like. I glance at Jessie, uneasy.

“I would want to know,” she urges.

I don’t answer her. I just take a deep breath and walk over to the edge of the dance floor. She’s watching me the whole time, even though both she and Audrey are still bouncing around and singing along. I wiggle my finger at her, beckoning her to come to me. I don’t expect her to do it. I almost expect her to flip me a middle finger or at the very least roll her pretty eyes and turn away. But to my utter amazement, she walks over to where I’m standing. Shay grabs my beer and takes a sip and then smiles as she hands it back. But it’s a guarded smile. “You summoned?”

“You look great out there,” I tell her as my eyes feast on her flushed cheeks and the dewy look of her skin.

“You should join me,” she replies with a small seductive smile.

I shake my head reluctantly. “I don’t dance.”

She snorts at that. “No guy dances. They just rub themselves up against girls.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Are you saying you want me to rub myself against you?”

She pauses and fights a smile. She loses the battle and grins as she reaches out, pinches the fabric of my sweater between her fingers and pulls. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

I wanted to talk to her about her dad, but she’s flirty and happy and I’ll be damned if I’m about to ruin that. It’s such a rare moment, something I haven’t seen since that first night.

I drop my half-empty beer on a nearby table and let her lead me onto the dance floor. I’m not graceful. I never have been. It’s why I’m a defenseman. I just need to have speed and good aim—both for my shots and my hits. I’m about as good at moving to music as I would be at figure skating, which is not at all. But there is no way I am going to turn down the chance to touch her in public, like she’s mine and only mine, for the world to see.

I might not be a dancer but I have a fairly decent voice and I know the words to this old eighties tune, so I lean close to her ear and sing. “Take my hand, we’ll make it, I swear.”

She looks up at me, our eyes latched on to each other. I reach up and move a hand through her hair, pushing it back off her shoulder, exposing her long, slender neck. I lean forward, take a deep breath of that scent that is all Shay—vanilla and lilacs or something—and let my lips ever so slightly touch the side of her neck.

She heaves a heavy breath and leans into the touch. I want to roar in victory. Instead I whisper, “Every man in this place wants you.”

“Well, now they think I’m with you,” she responds, and it makes my heart do a stutter step. I pull her closer and move my hips in rhythm with hers. I can feel her fingers curl into my hair. It sends a shiver down my spine.

“Every woman in this place wants you,” she whispers.

“I only want you.” The words leave my lips before I can filter them, and I instantly regret it. It’s too honest. Too needy. Too much. But her eyes dart downward, as if suddenly shy, and then she steps a little closer. Our torsos are pressed against each other and she’s just about riding my leg now. Since she hasn’t run screaming yet, I decide to tell her everything I’ve been thinking. “Shay, hockey isn’t who I am. It’s what I do. You would like who I am if you let yourself. I’m good for you. And I know you’re good for me.”

When she looks up again, her kitten gray eyes seem dark. She’s torn. Half of her wants to run, but half of her doesn’t. I keep pushing, hoping that it gives the latter half more power to win the war. “I want to kiss you right now.”

She licks her lips and we’re not moving anymore. We’re just standing there as everyone bounces and dances around us. “In public?” She acts mildly shocked. “So the world thinks I’m some puck bunny?”

She’s still putting up her sarcastic, defiant walls, but she’s not shutting me out or running away, so that’s something. Still, I feel like I’m done with the games.

“So the world knows that I am fucking crazy about you.” The smile on her lips fades and she looks suddenly deadly serious. I don’t know what that means, but it makes me panic, so I do the only thing that I want to—I kiss her. Right there, on the dance floor in front of anyone and everyone, I cover her pretty little mouth with mine and my tongue sweeps over hers. She seems to melt, her body sinking into mine and her fingers tangling in the hair at my neck. The song is over and the next one is halfway done before we pull apart.

“My place?” I barely manage to get out between raspy breaths.

Without a word she leads me out of the club.
Victory!
my brain screams. Or maybe it’s my dick. Once again, I can’t differentiate.