Page 29 of Playoff
Denny’s eyes narrowed and his lips tilted in a mocking grin.
“I have to go. Ladies’ room,” I muttered and slid out of my chair.
I headed straight for the back of the bar. Justin could cover my tab. Damn it, I’d forgotten my jacket. I couldn’t sneak out. But I could take a minute, calm down and plan what I was going to do.
I went into the restroom, thankfully empty, and braced my hands on the sink. The woman I saw in the mirror had flushed cheeks, wide eyes, and was struggling for breath. I could not go back to the table like this. I counted breaths, trying to calm myself down.
Okay, I’d slept with Alek Denbrowski. Damn, damn, damn it all to hell. I slept with Alek Denbrowski. Justin could never know. Or my parents. No one could know. I hadn’t told anyone details about my hookup, and I hadn’t known his name, so the only way anyone would find out was if he talked.
Would he say anything? Surely not. I’d heard enough from Justin’s teammates to know I was considered off-limits. It must be the teammate code, right? So he’d keep his mouth shut. We both would. We’d make it like it had never happened.
I’d been in the restroom longer than I should. But I could honestly say I wasn’t feeling well, grab my coat and go. Justin would come with me, being a concerned brother, and he didn’t want to stay anyway. Yep, that would work out perfectly.
Another long breath. I stood up, nodding at my reflection. I’d stepped out of the restroom door, rehearsing what I’d say in my head, when all my calm deserted me. Alek Denbrowski was leaning against the far wall, obviously waiting for me. I gasped and my hand landed on my chest.
“Surely you’re not surprised to see me.”
I wanted to slap the smirk off his face.
Down, Jess. I pushed my shoulders back. Apparently instead of ignoring this whole disaster, we were having a confrontation. “I am, actually. Why are you here?”
“Thought we should have a little talk.”
“Really?”
He took a step forward, crowding me. I held my ground.
“Don’t fuck with me. You recognized me that night.”
Seriously? “No, I didn’t! You—” I waved a hand at his face, to indicate the drastic change in his look.
“You said you weren’t a fan of hockey.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I said someone else got me the shirt. Which is absolutely true. But you—you said you weren’t a Blaze fan.”
“I’m not. I wasn’t. I played for LA till that morning.”
I wanted to ask how he’d gotten to Toronto so fast, but a woman passed by us, heading to the ladies room. I stepped out of her way, keeping my eyes on Denny. She eyed us with curiosity before pushing the door open. This was not good.
He looked back toward the bar and his jaw clenched. I followed his gaze and saw a couple of women in tight pants and Blaze shirts heading this way.
I turned my back. No way did I want anyone thinking I was trying to pick him up.
"Give me your phone,” he growled.
"Excuse me?"
"We can't talk here, and we're not done."
I’d have loved to walk away and leave him to do his caveman impersonation with someone else, but he was angry. And if he said something to Justin…
"Fine," I huffed and pulled my phone out of my bag. I unlocked it and passed it over.
He tapped for a bit, and I heard a ping from his own back pocket. He handed it back to me and I slipped away as one of the women, seeing her chance, purred, "You're Denny, aren't you?"
I walked back to the table as quickly as I could. I didn’t need to hear his lines for his next hookup. When I got there, Justin was throwing money down for our drinks.
“You okay to leave?” he asked me.
