I lean back and stare at her while she’s still refusing to look at me. Well, this went awkward very fast.
“Abby, Abby,” I sigh. That seems to do the trick. Her head turns in surprise.
“Only friends call me Abby,” she reminds me what she said earlier.
“We’re friends now,” I assure her. “After all, I’m about to see you naked. I might as well call you my friend.”
She snorts when she tries to hold back the laughter. “What?”
“Look at you,” I point at her, then move to stand up.
Now that her hair is out of my zipper, taking my coat off is easy. I drop it on the floor next to the hat I took off earlier, then slip out of my shoes.
I lift my chin at her. “Let’s go.”
“Go where?” Her eyes widen in surprise.
I give her my hand to grab, and surprisingly, she does it.
“We gotta get you out of your fancy clothes,” I inform her. “They’re sexy as hell on you, but you shouldn’t wear them out in this cold. Not without protection.”
I continue talking about her choice of wardrobe as we walk us through my apartment. There’s a wide hallway that goes toward the back. There are four doors, two on each side. One side leads to the master bedroom and a large closet next to it, where I keep all the extra sheets and blankets, as well as any other random stuff. The other side has a spare bedroom and a guest bathroom.
“Wow,” Abby whispers behind me. “Your apartment is so much bigger than mine. That’s not fair.”
I turn my head to wink at her. “When you become a hockey superstar, they’ll give you an apartment just as big,” I promise her.
“Geez,” she rolls her eyes, trying to hide her amusement. “Conceited much?”
“I have reasons to be,” I shrug. “I am damn good at what I do. And this is the only home I’ve had for the past eight years. Might as well be a decent size, don’t you think?”
“You’ve lived here for eight years?” she asks in wonder.
“That’s right,” I confirm. “Home, sweet home.”
“Hmm…” She sounds pensive now. “That must be a thing with you hockey players, huh?”
Her comment makes me pause for a moment.
“Some of us buy houses and live there. I didn’t want to waste my money on a house when it’s just me.”
I have no idea why I feel the need to defend myself.
She is now blushing furiously. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“How many hockey players do you know anyway?” I call her out. “What makes you an authority on the subject?”
“Oh, just…” She chews on her bottom lip, looking nervous as all hell. “One.”
I squint my eyes at her in suspicion. “Who?”
She hesitates, unsure of how to answer my question. But what’s so hard about it?
“You,” she admits in embarrassment.
I let out a sigh of relief. I’m not sure what I was expecting her to say. Probably because of the relationship I have with my parents, I just expect everyone I meet to disappoint me in some way.
Except for my little sister. Despite our lack of a relationship, I never felt like I couldn’t trust her. Which reminds me…