Page 25 of Not the Puck Bunny

She wasn't trying to touch my thigh, she had herhand down between the cushions of the couch. She pulled out a small remote control and pressed a button, turning off the voice.

She cleared her throat awkwardly. “I like to listen to…audiobooks.” Her face was adorably pink with embarrassment.

I cleared my own throat. “Yeah. Right. I like those too. I mean, not…the same as—" I pointed towards the ceiling.

“I figured,” she said. “Not that there's anything wrong with men listening to romance. Or reading it.”

“No, of course not,” I agreed. “People can read whatever they want.”

Shit, could this get any more awkward? “So, you were going to sort out a replay?”

She stared at me blankly for a moment before remembering why I was here. “Yes, hockey. Hockey replay.”

Her response left me wondering what kind of replay she was thinking about. Maybe one of the audiobooks, with my tongue on her.

I shoved another wonton in my mouth before I said anything I might regret. While I chewed and swallowed, I rebooted my brain and reminded myself why I was here. “Where's your TV?”

Maybe it was in her bedroom. If I went in there, chances were I'd do something we'd both regret.

Or would we? She was a beautiful woman and I was undeniably attracted to her. The longer I sat here looking at the blush that still stained her cheeks, the more difficult it was to remember she was my boss.

Her expression unreadable, she pressed another button on the remote still in her hand. Slowly, a screen rose out of the coffee table in front of us.

“I keep it hidden, because I don't use it very often and it blocks the view,” she explained.

Of course it did. That made more sense than my half-baked hope she'd invite me into her bedroom.

You're an idiot,Cam, I told myself.As if a woman like her would be interested in you anyway.

“That's a good idea,” I said, my voice slightly too high for comfort.

I had a massive projector screen that slid up to hide in the ceiling that was perfect for movie nights. When it wasn't in use, it was tucked away and forgotten.

“It wasn't my idea,” she said, but she didn't elaborate. Judging by the expression on her face, she preferred I didn't ask. That instantly made me curious, but I wouldn’t pry.

She turned on the screen and started the replay of last weekend's game. She placed the remote down beside her and reached for her bowl and beer.

“Good choice,” I said, nodding towards the screen. “This was a good game.”

“Because you won?” she asked.

I grinned. “Any time we win is always a good time.”

She glanced over and smiled. “I guess it would be.”

I liked seeing her smile. I wanted to see it again. Quickly, I reminded myself I shouldn't.

This is just business, I told myself.I'm just here to answer her questions, that's all.

But it already felt like two friends sharing a meal and watching a game. There wasn't anything wrong with being friends, was there?

The kind of friend who wants to know how her pussy tastes,the back of my mind hinted unhelpfully.

I ignored it.

We sat back and watched the first period while we finished the first course and the first round of beers.

I hopped up when the horn sounded, taking our bowls to the kitchen and returning with rice, honey soy chicken, spring rolls and another beer each.

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