Page 29 of Forbidden Hockey
“Fucking, smoke show, don’t you think?”
“Not really. I mean, she’s pretty, but not my type.”
That’s … surprising. They’re so similar. Then it dawns on me. Sophia isn’t Trav’s type, but she’s somebody’s.
“Huh. I guess she’s more mine,” I say. “Leather, tattoos, motorcycle, older.” I let that hang in the air. He’ll get that I’m flirting, that I mean him, right?
“She’s missing something you need in her pants.”
I bite my lip to keep from laughing. This is too fun. “Have you been to a sex shop lately, Trav? I’m sure whatever you think she’s ‘missing’, we could find there.”
“She has a son,” he tries, teeth grinding.
“Perfect. Love people with kids.” He remembers he’s got one, yeah?
Jack sets his drink down. Poor guy, he’s here in body, but not in spirit. He and Rhett broke up at the beginning of the off-season. His headspace is all over the place.
“Here yah go, Trav,” he says, lacking the usual Jack sunshine.
“Thanks.” Trav takes a burning swig as Jack saunters off. His stone glare hasn’t left me. “Are you gonna date her, then?”
Okay, I’ve pushed him to the edge. I could live here, this close to the fire, all the attention of his jealous ass on me, but it’s in danger of going too far. I lock ankles with him under the table. He jolts but doesn’t pull away.
“I’m not into her, Travis.”Because my heart’s too into you to understand that anyone else exists.
His knee relaxes against mine, and for the briefest of moments, the exhaustion wrought from the ache of wanting him day in and day out gets a dose of relief. It’s there in Trav, too. He closes his eyes, the weight of the world seeping out of him, and opens them again, renewed.
“I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Fine, I’m not.” He downs the rest of his drink way too fast. “New rule, no dating coworkers.”
That’s gonna be a problem. Half the staff is either dating or fucking. Pretty sure he just means me, though.
“We weren’t on a date, Trav.”
His gaze flicks to the money on the table. “That’s enough for two beers and a tip.”
“I’m not into women, Travis.”
“Didn’t look that way to me with you laughing … fucking smiling—when do you smile like that?”
When I’m talking about you, dumbass.“I’ll buy all my own beers from now on. Happy?”
He grunts something that I’m pretty sure means “okay”, but he’s not happy. I’ve gotta do more. My goal was to be a tease, not an asshole. I slide a bare foot out of my flip-flop and let it toy with the hem of Trav’s pant leg.
“Is it true you feed me decaf? That’s criminal, Trav.”
He leans back, a wolfish grin on his face, and flinty steel in his gaze, pinning me. “I am a criminal.”
Whoa. The shiver.
It’s a quick move, his booted foot hooking my ankle, his callused hand reaching under, trapping my foot in his crushing grip. His thumb presses into the arch, fingers wrapping around my toes, all the while his gaze never leaves mine. There’s a catch in my throat as my heart hammers against my ribcage.
That rough thumb traces a path along my sole, branding heat into my skin like an invisible mark.
Mine.
