he used words like behest. “She laughs again,” he said, and he almost looked like he might smile. Almost.
“So?” I reeled in my laughter. “You’re being unusually funny and cheerful today. I’m not used to it.”
Something flickered in his gaze, a darkness swirling there for a second before it was gone. “I can be…cheerful,” he argued, but he nearly tripped over the word. “Sometimes.”
I smiled at him, grateful for the distraction since Jansen was still talking to the redhead. Axel and Cannon had already wrapped up and headed inside the hotel. And I couldn’t escape to the comforts of my room until I’d officially closed the fan event.
“You don’t have to be cheerful,” I said, forcing myself to focus on him. It shouldn’t be that hard—he was gorgeous, my brother’s best friend, and despite being a broody man of few words, he’d been sparing me a few.
But it was hard. Because each second I stood there and those women kept boldly reaching over the rope to touch Jansen, I wanted to throttle them. And I had no right to do or think that.
“It’s okay to be exactly who you are,” I continued, glancing up at him. That was one thing the brothers shared—they were freaking tall. “I know we asked you and Sterling for some slack during promos, but you shouldn’t try and force yourself to be anything other than how you feel.” Savannah had taught me that. It had taken me a while, but slowly I’d learned it was okay to be me—awkward, career-driven, me.
Maxim shifted, sliding his hands into his pockets. Something distant colored his eyes, a far-off gaze I suddenly felt I shouldn’t be privy to. “Not everyone thinks so,” he said, his voice low, rough. “Some people believe it’s perfection or nothing. Please the masses or your worth holds no value.”
My lips tugged down at the corners as I studied him. Who could possibly think Maxim was anything but a perfect specimen? He was an NHL legend, descended from practically hockey royalty. He could land any sponsorship he wanted, any woman he wanted, and had a tight-knit circle of friends eho trusted him.
I cast a glance toward Jansen, wondering if Maxim meant the jab toward him. But that didn’t make any sense because Jansen’s opinion had never appealed to Maxim before.
The mystery of the brothers deepened, but I didn’t have second to register it as hope flared in my chest when Jansen turned away from the redhead, heading our direction.
“You never answered my question,” Maxim said, drawing my attention back to him.
“What was it again?” I asked, flashing him an apologetic look.
“What are you doing tonight?”
Jansen slowed as he came within hearing distance of us.
“We’re going to this local bar,” Maxim continued. “Want me to swing by your room and pick you up on our way out?”
“I…” I floundered in my own head as I watched Jansen stop and turn, changing his path from toward us—toward me—and heading inside the hotel instead.
I blinked a few times. A drink sounded exactly like what I needed, but drinking with my brother and his friends wasn’t exactly a night off. “I have to close out this event,” I said, motioning to the fans who wore smiles and glazed looks. It was nice, seeing them so happy.
Except maybe for the redhead, because she looked downright devious as she chatted with her friend.
“And then I think I’ll just crash,” I continued. “Thanks for the offer, though. I’m sure you and Caz will have a great time.” Maxim nodded, taking a step back. “Not too much though,” I said, eying him. “Hangovers on the plane are a bitch.”
His eyes did that squint thing that they did when he looked like he might laugh but wasn’t physically capable. “You have my number if you change your mind,” he said before turning into the hotel.
I hurried over to the crowd, thanking them for coming and wishing them all well. Most of them dispersed, holding their autographed photos to their chests like prized pieces of gold. Two fans in particular, though, headed inside the hotel instead of away from it.
I followed in behind them, having completed my duties for the night. And after the tension storm Jansen had delivered, I was more than ready for a scalding shower and a good night’s sleep. Maybe I’d rent a movie and zone out—
“Omigod, did he actually invite you up to his room?” the awestruck friend from earlier asked her redhead friend as they hurried into the elevator