Page 14 of Off The Ice

“Thank you for last night, by the way. And the coffee,” I said, timidly taking the first sip. “Oh, my God. This is amazing.”

“Oh, shit. Did you want milk or sugar or something to put in it?”

“No, no. I actually drink it like this,” I said honestly. “You can actually taste the coffee that way.”

His lips twitched with what might’ve been a smile.

“I agree. And to be honest, I would’ve judged you if you were the type of girl to pour sixteen packets of sugar into your cup first thing in the morning.”

“Well, don’t worry. I find other ways to get my sugar in throughout the day.”

“Oh, yeah?” he asked, the smirk finally breaking through despite what looked like a valiant effort on his part to fight it.

“Yeah. I do a heavy amount of baking, and that requires alotof taste testing.”

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing you aren’t staying here then,” he said teasingly. “Because I’m a cookie fiend, and I can’t afford to rekindle that relationship right before the season starts.”

“What season?” I asked,

“Hockey season.” He laughed.

I nodded slowly, not really understanding this guy’s obsession with hockey. “Right. Hockey season. Need to be in tip-top shape to cheer your favorite players on?”

“Sort of.” His eyes sparked with amusement that I didn’t fully understand.

I downed the rest of the coffee while contemplating the bizarre fascination so much of the male population had with sports.

When I looked up, he was staring at me with an unreadable expression, as if he was confused by the mere presence of me.

“Yes?” I asked, unsettled by the directness of his gaze.

“Nothing,” He cleared his throat, looking away. “I was just wondering where you met my sister?”

“Oh!” I smiled brightly, fighting a laugh at the memory of my first encounter with Maggie. “It’s actually a funny story.”

“I’ll bet,” he said, leaning back slightly with a shrug. When I shot him a questioning glance, he met my eyes and added, “I know my sister. Most situations she finds herself in are, uh, interesting.”

“Well, your sister is an angel,” I gushed, “because she actually saved me.”

His eyes flared in amusement. “Well, you have to tell me now.”

“We were in college together,” I explained with a wave of my hand. “I’m sure you knew that. Right?”

He looked at me blankly, making me think Maggie hadn’t told him after all. It stung, realizing maybe I wasn’t as important to her as she was to me.

“Anyway,” I continued, jumping into it. “I was at some frat house party, which totally isn’t my scene, but I’d just gotten into a fight with Dave and didn’t want to spend the night crying in my dorm, so I went—” Liam frowned, and I started talking faster, not wanting him to get bored by my long-winded tale.

Dave had always told me that I made my stories unlistenable with my rambling, and if my boyfriend thought that, I couldn’t imagine a stranger having an easier time with it.

“So, anyway, I was there. It was loud. The music was awful. I hated the smell of weed. I mean, I don’t even drink, so like, what was I doing there?” I laughed lightly, remembering how out of place I felt.

He stared, listening intently. It unnerved me to have his undivided attention. I wasn’t used to someone paying such close attention to my words.

I cleared my throat, continuing, “So, I was about to leave when some guy grabbed my wrist, trying to strike up a conversation with me. But, honestly? He was gross. His breath stunk of tequila, and he was really touchy. Every time I tried to walk away, he’d pull me back to the corner he had me in.” I shuddered at the memory.

Liam’s eyes narrowed on me, his hand tightening around his coffee mug. “And no one noticed?”

“No, they did.” I laughed dryly. “But that’s the thing about parties, I realized. Everyone tends to mind their own business about situations like that.”

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