Page 136 of Hot for the Hockey Player
I took two deep breaths, closed my eyes, and waited for my heart rate to go down a bit.Then, I opened the door and nearly killed a cyclist who zoomed past me.“Watch it!”he shouted, dressed almost entirely in black with no lights to be seen, just a small red reflector on the back.
God, I hated the city.I hated all cities.
His building was across the street.Like so many high-rise condos now, there was commercial space below the residential, and it looked like it was a hipster-style taphouse beneath this particular condo.Flannel and Beard.Yep, total hipster place.
I used the crosswalk because, with my luck, I’d get run over by another cyclist if I jaywalked.Then I had to walk past the wall of windows to the taphouse to get to the intercom for his building.
What if he wasn’t home?I really didn’t think this through.I was running on adrenaline and peer pressure and went into this grand gesture to win back my twenty-six-year-old boyfriend with absolutely no plan.This was so unlike me.I didn’t do this.I didn’t leave the island.I didn’t go into anything without a plan, a pros and cons list, and maybe even a plan B and plan C.
I reached his intercom and was about to buzz the number Damon gave me, but those damn thoughts in my head were running around in circles like a deranged dog chasing its tail.
I couldn’t do this.
Nope.
I spun around, prepared to head back to the crosswalk, my car, and drive the three and a half hours home, when I happened to glance into the taphouse and see who else, but Maverick, sitting at a table chatting and laughing with a beautiful blonde woman—closer to his age.
I beat back the flames of jealousy that threatened to grow from glowing embers of worry.
He’d already moved on.
Of course he did.He was young, hot, successful.Why wouldn’t he move on with someone closer in age?
He must have felt me staring, and turned his face, his blue eyes widening in surprise when he realized it was me.
Oh shit!
I booked it to the crosswalk just as he came barreling out of the restaurant.
As if hitting the button more than once would make it change to “cross” faster, I turned my back to him and kept hitting the button.“Come on.Come on!”
“Gabrielle!”
He reached me and grabbed me gently by the upper arm, spinning me to face him.
I shook my head, unable to look at him.“This was a mistake.”
“Look at me.”
Why did this man have such a spell over me?Particularly when he got all bossy and dominating?I flicked my gaze up to his and hurt stared back at me, making my insides tighten.“What are you doing here?”
“I … you didn’t come back,” I blurted out.
He released my arm and stepped back half a step.“Because you told me to go.You told me not to come back.”
“When I thought you were going to stick with hockey.”
He shook his head and his Adam’s apple bobbed on a hard swallow.“You abandoned me.When I needed you the most, when I called you, when I needed a sounding board, you dismissed me and told me to go.”
Sucking in a shaky breath, I released it out of my mouth.Movement behind him diverted my gaze, and the buxom blonde with long, thick lashes and big, blue eyes swayed her hips toward us.She reached out and touched Maverick’s shoulder, sending hot pokers of jealousy stabbing through my chest.“Maverick.It was great to meet you.I’ll send you our proposal and estimates for funding by Monday.I can’t tell you how amazing this is going to be.You’re going to make so many kids really happy.”She glanced at me and smiled, before returning her gaze to Maverick.“Have a great rest of your night.”
Maverick nodded.“Very nice to meet you, Taylor.Sounds good.”
Taylor took off back down the sidewalk from where she had come from, but didn’t return to the taphouse.
I’d already had enough public attention today to last me a lifetime, so I met his eyes.“Could we, um … could we go up to your condo and talk about this?Please?”
He nodded stiffly, then stepped to the side, allowing me to walk toward the door first.He punched in a code and the lock disengaged, opening up to a lavish, mirrored lobby and two side-by-side elevators.
