Page 91 of Banter & Blushes

She frowns. “What guy?”

“The fictional one I’m imagining in my head right now. Won’t it be great? We’ll go to the games together and do all that stuff the girlfriends and wives of hockey players do.”

“Which is?” Her expression turns skeptical. Probably because she knows I don’t have a clue what I’m talking about.

“I have no idea, but I’m sure it’s a blast.”

“Unbelievable. You haven’t even met the guy in person, and you’re already planning your future with him, as well as mine. I think you’ve gone over the deep end.”

I giggle. “The water’s great, Soph. Jump in with me.”

CHAPTER 7

ETHAN

Icouldn’t get home fast enough because I couldn’t wait to talk to Mia again. She’s all I could think about during practice, which didn’t go over great with the guys. They could tell I was totally distracted by the blonde-haired and blue-eyed beauty taking up more and more of my headspace.

Probably didn’t help that we texted practically nonstop over the last three days. I’m running on fumes because of those late-night chats. Mostly flirtations intermingled with details about our lives like where we grew up—Mia’s a native Sarabellan—how many siblings we have—she has a brother who lives in LA—and things we like or don’t like when it comes to food, travels, and interests.

The more we shared, the more addicted I became to seeing her next reply. But today, I’m going to suggest we meet for dinner. I’ve never felt this way about a woman so fast before, but the true test will come when we’re face to face. Don’t get me wrong, I’m loving our texts. But I want to know if the chemistry is the same in person because she’s one of the most interesting women I’ve ever met, despite her reluctance to tell me what she does for a living.

That one I can’t figure out unless it’s something she’s embarrassed about. Could she be a garbage collector? Nothing wrong with that profession. This world would be a really stinky place without them.

Maybe she’s a waitress at a dive joint? I waited tables through high school and college. Met some pretty interesting and sometimes crazy people doing that. No reason for her to feel embarrassed about earning an honest living.

I grab my phone and type out my message.

Ethan: Hi Mia. I’m finished with practice. Did you miss me?

Mia: What if I said no?

Her quick reply shoots a zing of excitement through me as I chuckle. I love this girl’s flirty sarcasm.

Ethan: I’d be devastated.

Mia: Seriously?

Ethan: Totally. So, put this guy out of his misery. Have dinner with me?

Mia: When?

Ethan: How about tonight?

Those tortuous dots show up, then go away, then appear again. Still feeling dehydrated from practice, I distract myself by getting a glass of water and chugging it down. I try not to stare at my phone sitting on the opposite end of the counter and testing my determination to be patient. But as soon as I hear the ping, I launch over the cold granite to grab it like I’m trying to stop the puck from hitting the net.

Mia: Can’t do weeknights. How about Friday?

Hmm, interesting. She can’t do weeknights? Does she work night shifts or something?

Ethan: That’s technically a weeknight.

Mia: True, but I don’t have to get up early Saturday morning.

More pieces to the puzzle that is Mia, except that most jobs require getting there early.

Ethan: Okay, Friday it is. Ever been to the Turtle Tide?

Mia: Who hasn’t?

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