“I don’t want to jinx it, but …” I loosen my hold on her hand, expecting her to let go, but she doesn’t.
“You guys are meshing well together,” she adds in. “I mean, there are still a couple of things even you can work on.” I laugh and look over at her. “What, you didn’t think I would not tell you what you did wrong?”
“I know how much fun you have with it.” I laugh. “So tell me.”
“Well, number one, you need to hustle back a little faster,” she says, and I know exactly what moment she is talking about. Manning lost the puck in the neutral zone, and by the time I looked back, it was a three on one. “Also, you get a little heated on the ice.”
I laugh now. “Is that so?” I shake my head, and she shrugs.
“But all in all, it was a solid performance by you and the team. Manning, though …” She winks at me. “That man is a beast.”
“He’s married.” My voice comes out harshly, and she raises her eyebrows at me. “I mean, maybe not happily, but still.”
“Relax there, hotcakes. I was talking about him on the ice. Nothing more.” She drops my hand and holds her hands up in surrender. “Besides, he’s not really my type.”
“Really?” I say. Looking over at her, I want to ask her what her type is. But I have to wait because I pull up to my gate and need to enter the code.
“Oh, look at you. So fancy,” she says, laughing. “Is this to keep the harem away?”
“Something like that.” Driving in, I park the car, then turn to her. “Welcome to my home.”
“I would say thank you for having me.” She leans over to open the door. “But you sort of forced me here.”
I shrug, giving zero fucks about how she got here. I’m just fucking happy she’s here. “Bottom line is you’re here. So let’s go with you being here.”
“It’s almost like a smoke mirror,” she says as she gets out of the car. I shake my head and open my door, meeting her in front of the car. “This is nice,” she says, and I nod my head. “Very you.”
“What does that mean?” I ask her, looking back at my house. It’s a two-story house, and from the front of the house, you can’t tell how big it is because the upper balcony is covered, and you can only see one room on the side because the two-car garage is on the other side.
“It’s sleek,” she says, looking up, and she isn’t wrong. The square stairs lead up to two gray pillars that hold up the upper balcony and cover the door. “Modern.”
I grab her hand and link our fingers together, laughing. “Let me give you a tour.” This is the second time she’s let me do this. I keep expecting her to pull her hand away from mine, but she doesn’t rip it away.
Walking up the five steps to the big brown door, I open it, and we are in the foyer. I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous about someone else seeing my house before. I also have never had anyone that I’m interested in over. This is my home, and I am not going to treat it like a revolving door. It is also my private space, and I’m going to share it with a one-night stand. “This is the foyer,” I say, and she looks at the pictures all along the wall. Each picture is a milestone in my life from my first time on the ice to the last season, when I scored my three hundredth point.
“It’s very GQ,” she says, pushing my shoulder with hers.
“Those stairs lead to the second floor.” I point at the staircase on the side and then walk into the great room. And it really is a great room. It’s the whole reason I bought this house to begin with. The whole back wall is windows, and to the left, I have two large white couches facing each other with a gray marble table in the middle. Four single chairs are at each end, almost like a box.
“This space is huge,” she says, walking in to stand between the couches and the dining room table. “I love how it goes from family room to dining room to massive ass kitchen,” she says, pointing toward the kitchen in the back. “Is that where you’re going to cook for me?”