Page 33 of Good Vibes Only
“I’ve only been to a few Sin games, but in the ones I’ve seen, you really seemed to attract a lot of, um, negative attention out there. What’s that about?”
He grinned. “They say I’ve got a smarmy smile and a punchable face.”
Well, they’re wrong,I thought, staring into his pretty eyes.
“Maybe they’re just jealous?” I said quietly.
“Nah. They’re not jealous. They’re mad.”
“Mad about what?”
“That I’m short and better at hockey than they are,” he said, flashing the boyish grin that his opponents hated.
“And I’m sure your cocky attitude has nothing to do with them hating you, mm?” I teased.
He chuckled. “Oh no. Attitude is abigpart of it, too.”
I was glad he had the self-awareness to acknowledge that. “Explain,” I said, wanting to hear more.
“Well, see, a lot of these guys got used to bullying smaller players around their whole careers. But I’ve never been one to back down from a fight just because I’m giving up a few inches. That’s what really crosses their wires: the fact that I’m short, and I don’t take any of their shit.” He looked deep into my eyes. “Short guys like me are supposed to take our punches and like it. Well, Idon’tlike it. I punch back. And I score goals, too. And that makes people really, really furious.”
“You really think people care so much about your height?” I asked, frowning. Something about that made me sad.
“Sure. It’s all they see at first,” he said. “It’s the same with girls, too.”
“That is so not true, Brett.” I laughed, denying it—even though, deep down, I remembered how Raven and I were talking crap about Brett for being short before I’d even met him.
“You don’t even believe what you’re saying, do you?” he asked with a grin. “I can tell you’re thinking it right now. You know I’m right.”
“Okay …” I murmured, vulnerable. “Yeah. You’re right. Tall guys are hot. It’s a preference—so what? But that doesn’t mean a short guy can’t be—”
“It’s alright. You don’t have to explain. It doesn’t bother me,” he said. “My height’s not an issue for me. I’m an athlete, you know? Girls might write me off at first, but as soon as they find out I play hockey, they stop caring.”
“Aaaah,” I said, the wheels in my head turning, “isthatwhy you thought you could kiss me after being a total jerk? Because you’re an athlete and you’re used to girls giving you a pass on your shitty behavior?”
He wore a guilty grin, and I knew then and there I’d busted him.
“Athletes,” I said with a roll of my eyes. “And can I just say something? It totally creeped me out to hear you were talking about me at practice.”
“Really?” He laughed, surprised. “I’d think most girls wouldloveto hear that.”
“If you haven’t figured it out by now, I’m not like most girls.”
He cracked a grin. I could tell he liked hearing that. “I’m starting to realize that, yeah.”
“By the way, you’ve gotta explain this biggest-smallest ass thing to me. Because I’ve been wondering all night whether it’s a good thing or a bad thing.”
He groaned. “I don’t know why everyone acts like it’s so confusing.”
“Because it’s an oxymoron?” I proffered. “Something can either be big or small.”
“All I was trying to say was you’re petite, but you’ve got an amazing booty.”
I grinned. “Amazing, huh? It’s that nice?”
“You didn’t know? You’ve got the best ass I’ve ever seen, easily.” He bit his lip and his darkening eyes darted lower, as if he were dying to look around me and steal a peek at my ass.
I laughed. “Stop!”
