Page 38 of Must Love Hockey
“If you say so.” His shrug suggests that I’m wrong, but he doesn’t want to argue.
And that’s a revelation, too. “Honestly? I’d just assumed you could have anyone you wanted. With your sexy job, and your…well…” I make a vague gesture at his body. His incredible, sculpted body with that gorgeous face on top of it.
Again, he grins. “Come and have coffee with me, okay? The only girl I want is the one wearing her undies in my bathroom.”
When I emerge, there’s a two-handled tray on the tousled bed. On the tray are two steaming cups of coffee, a creamer, a sugar bowl, and two homemade-looking muffins.
Someone pinch me. James can’t even be real.
* * *
After coffee and a fantastic homemade muffin, I know it’s time to go. “Let me get out of your hair,” I tell James. “Where are you headed tonight?”
“Uh…” He runs a hand through his messy hair. “St. Louis? No—Colorado. I’m pretty sure.”
I laugh. “I would make a joke about scrambling your brain, but with your travel schedule I don’t think I should take credit.”
“You did, though.” He reaches across the sofa and squeezes my knee. “Can I take you out for a real date after we get back? And then, like, a dozen more of them?”
My heart stutters. That’s a wonderful and also a terrible idea. I hadn’t been kidding when I’d told James I met him at the wrong time. I don’t want to jump into dating someone so quickly after Charles. “Well…”
James makes a stabbing motion toward his heart. “Okay, ow. How aboutonedate, then? And no pressure.”
“Yes,” I agree. “Of course. In case you couldn’t tell, I had a really good time with you last night. But—”
“But my timing sucks.” He rubs a hand over his eyes. “I know. I was listening. I just didn’t want to hear it.” He drops his hand and stands up. “I’ll walk you home.”
“It’s ten blocks, James. Every girl in Brooklyn can walk ten blocks without a safety detail. Except Delilah, I guess.”
“That’s just how I was raised.” He shrugs. “I’ll walk you home, unless you’d rather be alone.” He reaches for my hand, and it feels so nice that I don’t turn down his offer after all.
We head out into the crisp winter day, our coats zipped up and our hands still joined.
After a block in a companionable silence, he suddenly asks me a question. “Was it awful?”
“Um, what?” I ask. Hecan’tmean the sex.
“The breakup,” he says in a low voice. “After so many years, it has to be strange.”
Oh. And here I’d avoided thinking about that for more than twelve hours.
I glance at him, and his gaze is everywhere but on me.
“It was somewhat awful,” I admit. “Nobody expected me to break up with him. At first Charles didn’t believe me. Then he got angry, which actually made things easier. If he’d been sad, I would’ve only felt guilt. But I didn’t need a lecture from him about taking him for granted. And how I’d regret it.”
James makes a sound of irritation, but otherwise holds his tongue.
“My mother isn’t happy about it, either. She loves Charles.”
“Is that because…” The sentence dies without a conclusion.
“Because…?”
“Is he, uh, Chinese American, too? Is that a rude question?”
I laugh and shake my head. “It’s not rude. But Charles isKoreanAmerican, so it’s not really a cultural thing. My mom just likes his work ethic.”
“That’s a mom kind of thing,” he guesses.
