I’d heard it all before, and I was so done with it. My last remaining hope that Lance and I could remain friends had vanished tonight. If I ever saw him again it would be too soon.
When we arrived at my condo, instead of parking out front Lance circled the block, still talking a blue streak.
“I’m here and we’re face to face now. Let’s work this out, sweetheart.”
I was sick to death of listening to him and I just wanted to get out of this stupid car and get up to my condo. Obviously I was going to have to try a more direct approach, “You’d better stop this car right fucking now, Lance.”
He shook his head and looked surprised, and then cruised into an empty parking spot. “So this is it?” He leaned toward me, angling for a kiss.
“No,” I said, venom in my tone. “Eight months ago was it, but you refused to move on. And as far as tonight goes, you put the final nail in your own coffin. I can’t believe you made a comment like that in front of everyone, let alone one of my players.”
“That was only because he’s one you’ve got the hots for. I could see it all over your face.” I almost laughed at his petulant tone.
“Lance, I wish you well. But I can’t talk to you anymore. Please, don’t call me again.”
I got out of the car and closed the door, not looking back. He pulled away as I was unlocking my front door. Maybe, or rather hopefully, he’d understood me this time. I’d been foolish to believe he would ever be satisfied with just being friends.
Once inside, I went up to my room and changed clothes and took off my makeup, relieved to be in for the night. While I was brushing my teeth, my phone dinged signaling a text message. I finished getting ready for bed and grabbed my phone. I was ready to chat and I just knew this message was from Killian.
Killian: U alone?
Me: Yes. Did you take Barbie back to her dream house?
Killian: Yep.
Me: Did you kiss her?
Killian: U jealous, boss?
Me: Just curious.
Killian: No. U let oldie kiss u?
Me: He tried. Didn’t get very far though.
Killian: You were the most beautiful woman in that room tonight. Probably in all the other rooms in the world, too.
I stared at the words on the screen, reading them twice before responding. It was unlike Killian to say something so sweet, with no sarcasm or bravado to cover him.
Me: Thank you. Can I keep the T-shirt?
Killian: Lol sure. U like it?
Me: I’m wearing it right now.
Killian: Damn. Nice. I wouldn’t give that shirt to just anyone btw. It was my lucky shirt in college. Wore it for 32 games straight without washing it once.
Me: That’s hot in a way I can’t explain at all.
Killian: What were u like in college?
Me: Total nerd. Picture glasses, a bun and a turtleneck sweater.
Killian: Fuck yeah. Nothing but the sweater? You vixen.
Me: Ha. More like nerdy dress slacks.
Killian: With stripper heels, right?
I laughed out loud, the sound filling the silence of my empty condo.
Me: Always. Bet you were a golden boy hockey star in college.
Killian: Not exactly.
Me: ??
Killian: Long story. Not a text kind of thing.
I frowned, the possibilities flying through my mind. No way had he worked his way through school. He had to have gotten a full ride to Penn State with hockey. Serious girlfriend? It seemed unlikely, knowing him.
Killian: You would’ve had a better time with me tonight.
Me: I know.
Killian: Guess we should go to sleep.
I glanced at the alarm clock and groaned. My wake-up call for a six AM workout was just four hours away.
Me: Right. Goodnight.
Killian: Send me a pic of you in my shirt.
Me: Sorry, I don’t do selfies.
Killian: I didn’t mean your face. Just your tits ;)
Me: You’ll have to use your imagination. Goodnight, Captain.
Killian: Night boss.
Killian
Keri’s grin was smug when she turned to me and Liam. She’d stopped us in the tunnel and we both gave her a questioning look.
“Alright, so you’ll be building some positive PR by skating with fans this afternoon,” she said.
“Right.” Liam nodded. “Just don’t bitch if I knock anyone over.”
She put a hand up to stop us from moving forward. “Maybe I need to mention that these are young fans.”
I scrunched my face skeptically. “Young as in . . . teenagers?”
“Uh, no. They range in age from five to seven.”
“Oh, hell no,” Liam said, crossing his arms across his chest. “I’m not a fuckin’ babysitter, Keri.”
“They’ll have chaperones with them.”
“You know, maybe you should ask some of the other guys,” I said. “I’ve never been around little kids.”
“Oh, don’t give me that. You two are the ones whose images need a makeover.” Her blue eyes sparkled with the same kind of confidence that reminded me of Sid.
“I can teach ’em how to throw a good right hook,” Liam said, cocking his head. “And share some colorful words they may not know. Or, what about how to break your stick over an opponent’s head? That’s all some useful stuff.”
Keri gave him a no-nonsense glare. “Liam, come on, I’m asking you to do this. Please. You’ll have fun, and so will the kids.”
His face lit up in a grin. “Okay. We’ll do it.”
“Speak for yourself,” I muttered. “I don’t know shit about dealing with kids.”
“Just be nice,” Keri said. “And no swearing.”
An hour later, Liam nudged me as we approached the ice. “You do the talking. That’s the captain’s job.”
“Thanks, asshole,” I muttered.
There were about a dozen kids lined up on our bench. The closer I skated to them, the more I tensed at the sounds of their giggles and high-pitched conversations. I didn’t know how to handle kids.
But how hard could it be? They were just small people. I stopped in front of the bench and looked them over. They were bundled in a rainbow of coats, hats and gloves, and they quieted when they saw me.
“He’s a hockey player,” one boy said in a low, awed tone.
“Hey, guys,” I said, leaning on my stick. “I’m Killian, and I’m the captain of the Flyers. This is my teammate Liam. You guys excited about ice skating?”
“Yeah,” the sound of their shout was about enough to knock me over.
“Good!” I said. “You guys have any questions before we get started?”
“Have you ever fallen down on the ice?” a boy blurted out.
“All the time. Especially when I was learning to skate. You just have to get back up and keep trying.”
Another boy raised his hand and I pointed at him. “Got a question?”
“What if I have to pee while I’m skating around?”
“No worries, we’ve got bathrooms here. One of the . . . grown-ups can take you.”
“Mr. Killian?” A boy with a shaved head was wiggling around on the bench.
“You got a question for me?”
“I need to fart.”
I looked at Liam, trying not to laugh. One of the chaperones looked embarrassed and was about to scold the poor kid.