Page 8 of Arresting the Hockey Player
"You didn't," I gasp, shocked that he asked for a condom from the delivery driver. "I order from them weekly. Oh my gosh! They're never going to look at me the same way again."
"Don’t worry. I gave him a really nice tip. He even offered to bring an entire box the next time you order takeout."
"Now, I know you're joking." I glare at him and pray that the driver didn't say that. "I might need to start ordering Indian food from someplace else," I mutter.
"What fun is that?" Noah quips. "Unless you want me to send you my guy?"
"You have a guy?"
Noah removes the plastic takeout containers from the bag, placing everything on the table, while I grab two glasses from the cabinet, filling them with water.
"I've hired a chef once or twice—"
He lets the words hang in the air as we take a seat at the table and dish a serving onto each of our plates, sharing the dishes. "What's your catch?" Noah asks, staring at me, his fork in his hand.
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"I know why I'm single. Hockey is my life. I live and breathe the sport. It doesn't offer a lot of time for a partner. What I can't figure out is why you're single. You're cute, smart, and witty. Not to mention, you're sexy as hell."
I take a bite of my dinner, starving and also trying not to answer his question. His flattery makes my heart race. I avoid his intense gaze as I stab my chicken with my fork. "What are you looking for?" I ask, avoiding his question.
"Someone honest, loyal—"
I hold up my hand, stopping him before he ticks off every box that is pretty standard on a guy's list of wants.
"Do you want something serious or a fling?" I need to know what he's expecting because bringing him back to my apartment isn't exactly new for me, but if he wants a second date, that isn't something I'm accustomed to doing.
He shifts in his seat. "You go right for the tough questions," he says, and I glance up, meeting his dark gaze.
Maybe I shouldn't have looked up and met his stare, because now I can't look away, no matter how much I want to, because the butterflies take flight in my stomach the longer he watches me. It's like he's staring right through me, seeing everything inside of me, and it makes me slightly uncomfortable. Not that I'd tell him as much.
"I just want to know what your expectations are. We haven't talked about it," I say and take a bite of my dinner.
"I'd like to get the opportunity to know more about you," he says. "Not that what we did earlier wasn't fun." He's got a boyish grin that crosses his features and makes him look incredibly youthful and innocent. Although I know he is anything but that in terms of what goes on in the bedroom.
He's a professional athlete. I'm sure he's been with dozens of women.
"But my career comes first. Always," Noah says.
That bothers me far less than I thought it might, hearing the words leave his lips. "I'm okay with that," I say. "I knew what I was getting involved in when you asked me out."
He takes a bite of dinner, savoring the taste. "This is good," he says, pointing with his fork toward his plate.
I can't help but wonder if there's something else I haven't seen or don't know about him. Unlike my bestie, I didn't stalk him online before our date. "How is it you're still single? No wife. No kids. Unless you have a secret family?"
He smiles, shaking his head. "Funny. I've never been married and no kids," Noah says. "Don't get me wrong. I like children most of the time. Have you met Kyler's daughter yet? She's quite a handful." He laughs, watching me intently.
"We were introduced at one of your hockey games. Bright kid, Bristol." The little girl is my best friend's niece, so of course, I'd meet her. Amber and I are like sisters.
"The kid is smart and is always causing Kyler and Emerson trouble."
The storm begins to settle, and mid-dinner, the lights come back on in the apartment. "Do you want to watch a movie after we finish?" I ask, taking another bite of my meal.
My grumbly stomach has at least ceased embarrassing me.
"A movie sounds good," Noah agrees. "I'll even let you pick the film. Just promise me it won't be one of those girly films."
"A chick flick? No promises, handsome."
