Page 48 of Off The Ice

A woman with long, sleek hair and a skin-tight black outfit that I knew would have any of my teammates drooling stared up at me through eyeliner-rimmed eyes.

“Hi,” I bit back in a way that I hoped would shut down any further conversation.

Apparently, my acknowledgment of her existence was all the encouragement the girl needed to make her way closer until she was inches away from my body.

The smell of vanilla filled my senses, and I found myself frowning at the audacious girl peering up at me.

“You’re Liam Brynn,” she stated, eyes flashing.

I blinked at her. It hadn’t been a question. She knew who I was, so what did she want me to say about it?

“I’m Sam.”

Sam, evidently, was waiting for an invitation to crawl onto my lap.

I fixed her with a stare. “I know that it doesn’t look like it now, Sam,” I said dryly, “but our table is full.”

“Oh?” she said in a way that made it seem like a challenge.

“But if it’s a hockey player you’re looking for, you’ll find plenty of them scattered around here tonight.”

“Actually, I think I’m content right here with you,” she said, slipping onto the chair beside me.

I fought the urge to abandon our seats entirely as irritation prickled against my skin. What was it about girls at theseclubs that made them think everyone there was for the taking? Couldn’t people read social cues anymore?

It was why I never bothered to go out anymore. People were too drunk, too touchy, or too bold. I was fine with the peace and quiet of my own home. Even if it meant missing out on team bonding.

“I’m not the best company.” I glared at her, screaming without words:get the point.

“I like the tough ones,” she purred.

I visibly recoiled as her fingers came up toward my arm.

“You know, you’re even cuter in person.”

My eyes scanned the bar, desperately hoping to connect with one of my teammates so I could shoot them an SOS stare. I knew any of them would come to the rescue, hoping to take the girl off my hands themselves, but everyone was apparently occupied elsewhere.

Even Brody, drink in hand, was up front by the stage, dancing to the song Cassie and Maggie were singing to their crowd of one.

“I’m really not interested,” I said, attention focused solely on Cassie and my sister, not sure how to make it any clearer.

“Oh, come on.” She pouted, trying to rub circles on my arm before I pulled it out from under her. “I’m sure I could find a way to make you interested.”

I jerked toward her, my eyes flaring in barely restrained anger. I knew girls like her. Brody had explained it perfectly. They liked the challenge, the thrill of the chase. Some people couldn’t possibly comprehend that a person could be uninterested in their advances.

I wasn’t playing hard to get. I just didn’t want to begot.By anyone.

So I let the lie roll off my tongue, hoping it might sway her in ways that the blatant rejection had not.

“I have a girlfriend.”

Predictably, she pulled back. Only slightly, but enough that she was no longer crouched over me, invading every inch of space that should be my God-given right to take when out in a public area. Hockey player or not.

“Who?” Her eyes narrowed on me, her nose scrunching upward as if this piece of information hit her like a bad smell.

“Who?” I repeated, dumbfounded. “Why would you ask that when you couldn’t possibly know her?”

“I mean, it’s not exactly a secret that you’re chronically single.”

---