Power Play - Brittney Mulliner Page 0,12

The press would be in soon, giving us only a few minutes to collect ourselves and our thoughts.

5

Taylor

The waiter filled my water glass for the third time, and I ignored his questioning stare. I made the mistake of looking up and thanking him the first two times. The other hotel guests seemed to only stay in the restaurant for thirty or so minutes, and I was easily past the two-hour mark.

I brought my laptop down this morning to get a start on the job hunt, and it was much better down here. I could take breaks to people-watch rather than staring at the white walls and tastefully neutral decor of my room. It was too depressing. Too isolated.

So far, I sent my résumé to four companies. One in Philly, one in New York, and two in Chicago. Carrie was right, not being limited to one location made it easier to find options, but without any previous experience, it would be challenging. I attached the recommendation letters from my professors and the supervisor at my internship last summer. That would have to be enough.

“Is this seat taken?”

I glanced up, and my hands froze over my keyboard.

“What are you doing here?” And more importantly, why did he look so good? So much broader and more mature than the last time I saw him. Jason had been a boy in comparison to the man in front of me. And of course, he had to be one of the rare hockey players that still had all his teeth. Why didn’t any of his opponents ruin that perfect smile for me?

I ignored the zing that went through my entire body. A mixture of pleasure and pain.

“The team’s staying here, too. Don’t worry. I’m not following you.” Jason slid into the open seat across from me. The waiter appeared and took his order of an egg-white spinach omelet before disappearing.

The whole team? Great. I thought last night was a one-time thing. Being in the arena, the familiar sound of sticks striking the puck and players slamming against the boards felt like coming home in a way. Seeing Jason play had been shocking. He was great in high school, but I stopped following his career. I didn’t realize he was amazing now. Fast, accurate, and so unafraid. It was clear playing was what he was meant to do.

“But what are you doing here?” I repeated, much more in control of my shock. I wiped my palms on my jeans and glanced around for more of his teammates, or the girls. Someone to interrupt whatever was happening.

“I want to talk.” He leaned his elbows on the table.

I really, really didn’t want to talk to him. His silence four years ago said more than this conversation ever could. What did it matter? We were ancient history. The wine-throwing incident was out of character for me. It was an immature impulse. The teenage-me seeking revenge.

My eyes dropped to the online application form I was filling out. I didn’t have to listen to him. I could stand up and leave, but I didn’t. Why wasn’t I running?

“Just give me a few minutes, then I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want.”

As if there was another option? I huffed but closed my laptop and waited.

“I owe you an explanation, more than just that, but I figure that’s a good starting point.”

I picked up my water and took a large gulp, half to calm myself and half for something to do. Never in my wildest dreams did I think we would see each other again, let alone be sitting across from one another in a semi-civil manner. My heart was racing, not from excitement or attraction as it once had. Oh no. This was panic.

“Taylor, can you please look at me?” The pleading in his voice cracked my resolve.

I stared at his hands and then his chest, neck, lips. Those lips I used to know so well. I could almost remember how they felt against mine.

No! Bad Taylor.

A smirk formed on those stupid, velvety lips, and I finally made it to his eyes.

“I need to start with an apology. I’m so sorry for how I left things. I know it wasn’t what we agreed to do. I had no intention of the day I left being the last time we ever saw each other. I was looking forward to you coming up to visit. I wanted to show you off to my friends and family.”

“Then why?” I interrupted. That was the only