Page 11 of False Play
Before Hayes could reply, Parker called him to the other side of the table, where he was sitting with two very eager-looking women. One of them was practically eating Hayes alive with her eyes.
Levi Parker had been playing with us for a year after getting traded from the Detroit Panthers, too. Though he was in his early twenties, he was the laid-back guy of the group and, surprisingly, a ladies’ man. You wouldn’t expect it from his easygoing demeanor, but he could attract women like no one else—well, Hayes was another rigorous player. But with his outgoing personality, that was a given.
Hayes rubbed his palms together with a smirk. “It’s wingman time.”
I rolled my eyes at his comment as he walked away from us.
“For the record, today wasn’t any different,” Kennedy replied very matter-of-factly. “You’re always a piece of work.”
“Ouch.” I placed a hand over my chest dramatically. “Youwoundme.”
“I’m sure I do,” she muttered, settling into the chair I’d given her.
As she shifted to face me, her knee brushed against my thigh, and my pulse spiked at the fleeting touch. My God, I couldn’t have been any more pathetic; it was humanly impossible.
“What are you doing here? You should stay home and away from the media. Or is it your lifelong goal to make my job more difficult?”
I was never the type of man who liked easy things. Kennedy was a woman who fought fire with fire and was unapologetic about it.And I fucking reveled in that shit.
“I thought you said today wasn’t any different?” I mocked.
She crossed her arms as she pretended to ponder. Her eyes locked on mine for a moment, and I could practically feel the annoyance rolling off of her. I knew I was going to like whatever insult she was about to fire back with her pouty mouth. “Now that I think about it, itwassort of different. I’ve never seen you be so full of yourself before,” she commented. “Fame getting to your head, pretty boy?”
I knew she used the termpretty boyas a derogatory remark. But,fuck, if it didn’t make my pulse thrum like crazy every time she said it.
I shrugged as I took a sip of my beer to calm my nerves. Her big, brown eyes settled on my throat, where my Adam’s apple bobbed as I swallowed the liquid. And call me crazy, but I could have sworn her eyes flared with some sort of…awareness. Dare I say…interest?
Another surge of exhilaration flooded through me with awhoosh. Kennedy had never paid attention to me, like…ever. The moment had been fleeting, and I was already eager to figure out how to get her attention on me again.
“Keep calling me pretty, and itmightjust go to my head.”
“Does it hurt to carry such a big, egocentric head around the ice?” A hint of mockery dripped from her sweet and raspy voice.God, that voice. I never tired of hearing it. It was pathetic—Iwas pathetic.
“I’m one of the fastest skaters in the league. Does that answer your question?” I replied innocently.
She gave me a blank, unamused expression without a word.
I placed my beer on the table and clasped my hands. “Now, how about that drink?”
“I can go get my own.” She tried to stand, but I gripped her waist to keep her in place.
The touch was brief, barely a graze. And yet, electricity shot from my arm down my vertebrae, and a million little butterflies took residence in the inside of my stomach.
Butterflies, seriously? What the fuck was this? Fuckinghigh school?
“Not happening, Jonesy. What do you want?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Stop trying to act nice to get in my good graces. It’s not going to work.”
“I don’t need to get in your good graces. You already like me,” I replied confidently. Knowing full-well it was complete and utter bullshit.
She swatted my hand away from her waist, and a pang of disappointment hit me at the lack of touch between us. “What gave you such an idiotic idea?”
I had about three beers by the time Kennedy showed up. I was a tall, broad dude, so it wasn’t much alcohol. But I was fogged with…her. She clouded all of my senses.
I rested the palm of my hand on the table and tilted myhead closer to her ear. “You think I don’t notice when you check me out every time I have to take my shirt off for a photo op?” I took a small step back and fixed her with a knowing look. “I almost think you choose these types of photo ops on purpose,” I rasped. The low vibration of my voice settled in the center of my chest. All common sense had left the window once again tonight, and I only had a certain five-foot-eleven beautiful woman to blame.
“Ha.” She tilted her head back with a laugh. The movement exposed the length of her neck and hit me with her scent.Fuck, she smelled like goddamn heaven. Sweet and tropical, like coconut, with a hint of something woody…sandalwood, maybe. It was surprisingly delicate and a complete contrast to her strong personality. Strangely, it fit her.
