Page 20 of Not the Puck Bunny

“And the other two?” she prompted.

Her smile had faded too quickly. I wanted to see it again.

“Zack has mirrors in his bedroom,” I blurted. “He looks into them and asks who's the hottest player of all.” I had no idea if he actually did, but I was rewarded with a peal of laughter that sent a jolt of heat all the way through me. Even my cold, dead heart beat a little faster.

“And what about Blake?” She looked expectant, amused.

How was I supposed to top that?

I shrugged. “Blake lives at home. I don't know, but he probably sleeps in those pajamas with the feet attached.” I pointed down to my worn sneakers.

That drew another laugh from between herpillowy lips. “Maybe I like a guy who sleeps in footie pajamas.”

“You seem more like the type who likes a guy who doesn't sleep in pajamas at all,” I said without thinking.

“Like you?” Her gaze dropped below the waistband of my jeans again. Her cheeks turned flaming red. She looked back at my face, eyes wide, hand pressed to her chest, right over her luscious cleavage.

“I'm sorry. Now I'm the one who's out of line. I didn't mean to?—"

I pushed myself off the door frame and took a couple of steps towards her, my hand stretched out, palm raised toward her. “It's okay. I went there first. No harm, no foul.”

“Right,” she said uneasily. She swallowed hard. If I didn't know better, I'd think she was picturing me naked. And liking what she saw.

I should retreat back behind the red line. Get safely into my defensive zone and stay there. I should have come here with padding and a helmet on, stick in hand, to keep a safe distance from her. To keep her a safe distance from me.

Who was I kidding? She was better off on the other side of the city from me, notin the same room.

“So, about giving me pointers about hockey,” she said in a rush.

“My place,” we said at the same time.

That was followed by both of us saying, “Your place.”

Shit, could this get any more awkward?

“Shells?” I suggested.

“People will talk,” she replied. “If you like to keep your life private, that would be a bad idea.”

“For both of us,” I agreed.

“Right,” she said awkwardly. “We don't want people to assume there's anything going on between us when there's not.”

“No, there isn't,” I said. “If there was, I wouldn’t want people to talk about us.”

“Would you be ashamed of having a relationship with me?” Why did that seem to bother her so much? What almost seemed like hurt flashed through her blue eyes. Unless I imagined it. Yeah, of course I did. That made sense. No way would she be hurt by that for real. Probably.

“No, ‘course not,” I said. “But nothing is going to happen between us, so let's not give anyone the wrong impression. Right?”

“Right.” She blinked a couple of times. “Right.”

She stepped over to the oversized desk and opened a couple of drawers before she found some paper and a pen. She wrote something on a sheet and folded it over before handing it to me. “My address and phone number. I trust you won't share this with anyone else. Especially guys who sleep in pajamas with feet.” She managed a watery smile. “You know where that is?”

I unfolded the paper and glanced at her flowery, but neat writing. “I can find the place.” Yeah, I knew the address. It was close to my apartment. Close enough that I could walk.

Not far for a booty call,my cock hinted.

Okay, that might have been the back of my brain. Apparently only the rational part of my mind was still keeping its pants on.

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