Talk Hockey to Me (Bears Hockey #3) - Kelly Jamieson Page 0,40
think so?”
“Long story.” She waves a hand.
“We have time.”
She gives me a look. She doesn’t want to talk about it. I get that. I can respect that. Even though somehow I always end up spilling my guts with her.
“Any more news of your dad’s girlfriend?”
“Nope. I talked to my brother about it. He’s all, whatever. Men.”
“Yeah, men and women are definitely different. Thank God.”
Her eyebrows snap together. “What does that mean?”
“I mean thank God we’re different. I like how women are different—soft, nice smelling…what is that shower gel you use, by the way?”
She blinks.
Uh-oh. Getting too personal? I definitely appreciated all her differences that night in Cancun. Repeatedly. All night long.
Ahem.
“Never mind. Also, women are much stronger than men. Probably smarter. And you can multi-task.”
She chokes on a little laugh and her frown clears. “Okay.”
“Look at your many talents.” I wave a hand at Orson’s head over on the counter. “You can whip up a killer spreadsheet, negotiate like a shark, then dress up and charm little kids.”
“I do indeed have many talents.”
When Kevin arrives, Hakim is with him. Somehow, they found out they’d both been ditched.
Kevin hands Kate her phone and a bag with some clothes in it and sets a dozen beers on the counter. Hakim carries two big pizza boxes that smell fantastic.
“Two pizzas?” I raise my eyebrows.
“We’re joining you,” Hakim says. “You owe us after that bailsky.”
Fuck him. I mean, I guess it was kind of rude. But I’m annoyed that they’re crashing my time with Kate. “We had a costume crisis.”
“I fell,” Kate says, deflecting any attention from the fact that she was chasing me. “I hurt my shoulder and I couldn’t get back up, and then I couldn’t get my head off.”
Kevin’s lips twitch. “That is a crisis.”
“Also, I had to go to the bathroom.” Kate moves into her little kitchen and opens a cupboard. She pulls out four plates. “Urgently.”
“Okay, okay. No overshares.” Kevin waves a hand.
“I guess you two don’t know each other.” I introduce Kate and Hakim as we serve ourselves pizza and open beers. Then we all settle in Kate’s little living room to dig in.
“Great pizza,” I say between mouthfuls. “I’m starving.”
“Hopefully the event was a success,” Kate says. “It seemed like lots of people there, and the kids were having fun.”
“They were having fun pelting me with water balloons.” Luckily, I’m dry now.
“What could be more fun?” Hakim says.
“I agree. Water balloons are the best.”
“So, Kate.” Kevin points at her. “Tell us the latest gossip on trades.”
She grins. “I don’t gossip.”
“But you probably know everything,” Hakim says.
“She does,” I affirm. “But she won’t tell you.”
“Damn.”
I can see they’re only joking. Half-joking.
Kate’s at ease, laughing and bantering with us. It reminds me of that day I found her crying and took her to Bingo’s place to cheer her up. She was the only girl there and she fit right in. That was also the day I was going to…fuck. Forget that.
When we’re done with the pizza, we lounge around with another beer. Then Hakim says, “I guess you can drive me home now that we’re both here.”
“Sure,” I say with all the enthusiasm of a guy about to get his balls waxed. “Let’s go.”
* * *
KATE
* * *
What a day.
Looks like everyone’s leaving, including Hunter. Damn.
I argue with the guys over the leftover pizza and convince them to take it. I have my meals planned and prepared for the next week, so I don’t need it.
As they leave, Hunter catches my eye and holds it. I give a half-smile, which he returns, a thread of connection drawing out between us.
“We’ll talk next week,” he says.
I nod.
When they’re gone, I load the dishwasher and wipe the counters. And think.
I have a lot to think about.
We almost kissed. He had his hands on my ass. And I liked it.
He apologized, but the truth was, if he’d kissed me, I probably would have kissed him back. Yikes. That attraction is still there, and still strong. But he’s my client.
Then he told me about his phobia.
My heart aches for the little boy who was laughed at because of it. He’s such a contradiction—big, tough hockey player on the ice, but off the ice a guy with hidden wounds and layers of sensitivity that he feels he has to hide. I understand why he feels that way. The world’s view of masculinity is toxic. I wish it weren’t so. And oh my God…my heart…I love it that he feels comfortable enough with me to