She opened her phone contacts and scrolled to his number. As assistant to the CEO, she had all the players’ contact information. She could text him and thank him for the gift. It was the polite thing to do. Though she wouldn’t really be thanking him. She would be doing it to pick a fight, which would be better in person.
She tapped his number.
He answered on the first ring.
“Hello, Casey.”
That voice. She loved it, how deliberate his pronunciation was. His English back then hadn’t been quite as good, but now it was perfect—and perfectly able to send her into a tailspin.
She also remembered how it once coaxed her to do hot, wicked things, only back then he’d called her Coco, a fact she had forgotten until last night. How strange that he remembered these details—her fake name, her fake hair, her fake persona. Even that they had talked about her favorite show, The Office. Was it possible that night had meant something to him after all, that she had made as much of an impression on him as he on her?
“How did you know it was me?”
“You’ve sent texts to the team before about travel arrangements and the like.”
She had. For a split second she’d forgotten one of her primary duties. This was the downside of orgasms; not only did you forget the worm who dumped you, you also forgot the rudimentary elements of your job.
He went on. “Did you get the julstjärna?”
“Is that the plant?”
“Yes, that’s what we call it in Sweden. It means Christmas tree star.”
Oh, something inside her warmed at that and a couple of chips of ice fell away from the fortress surrounding her heart. She coughed, aiming to restore its regular rhythm. “Right, that’s what I’m calling about. It was really not necessary—”
“Do you like it?”
She swallowed. His voice was low, smoky, and doing things to her. Again.
“I do. Thank you. But you shouldn’t have.”
“I was a little worried you might be going out of town but Harper assured me you weren’t.”
Harper again. The woman had no right to interfere like this.
“I would usually be spending it with my”—boyfriend—“parents but they’re out of town.” In case that sounded too pathetic, she quickly added, “But I’ll head over to Bren and Violet’s tomorrow for the Orphan Christmas.”
Not pathetic at all!
“I’ll also be an orphan, so I will see you there. Shall we say noon in the closet?”
“Erik—”
“Too soon?” He sounded amused, which reminded her that she had things to say.
“About what happened.”
“In the closet or all those years ago?”
“In the—what about all those years ago?”
“I don’t think we have put that to bed, have we?”
She battled a smile. Lost the fight. This was the boy—the man—she remembered from that night in the Empty Net. He had charmed her with his goofiness and she had been swept off her feet into another world where she felt adored.
Of course she had been ripe for it. Recently dumped, desperate for a boost to her self-confidence. She got a hot night and was still greedy for more. Only Erik never called and Andrew sauntered back into her life. She hated the what-if game but she couldn’t help herself.
She knew better now than to believe any word out of a man’s mouth. Yet she realized that Erik might not be completely at fault here.
“There’s nothing more to say about it. I may have been a little … harsh on you. After all, I did look different and I used a fake name.”
“Yes, but I should have—” He checked his speech and blew out an exasperated breath. He should have what? Remembered her?
He went on. “I lost your number. The bar staff didn’t know who you were and—”
“The bar staff? At the Empty Net?”
“Yes. I tried to describe you but they didn’t remember. And there I was thinking they would all recall the beautiful woman a hockey superstar goaltender was flirting with all night. I guess I wasn’t quite the center of the universe I thought. It was a harsh lesson.”
Do. Not. Smile. “I can’t believe you went in looking for me.” Not sure she believed it now.
“I thought maybe I lost the napkin there, though I was so certain I’d put it in my pocket before we left the bar. The staff were useless. No information and I never found my Coco, until now.”
Her breath hitched. My Coco.
“That’s not my name.”
“I like both your names, but Coco has a certain style, I have to say.”
She giggled then slapped a guilty hand over her mouth. Keanu sent an accusing glare her way, so she scowled back at him. He knew nothing.
“You’re such a goof.”
“That’s what people think, I suppose.”
She didn’t mean to imply that was all there was to him. For fuck’s sake, was she starting to empathize with the man?
No no no.
She needed to wrap this up before she melted into a puddle of complete forgiveness. Struggling for a businesslike tone, she said, “I just wanted to say thank you. For the plant and for …”
“For?”
“For being so calm in the elevator. Not my finest moment but you were on hand to help me get a grip.”
“And …”
Oh, he was a saucy one. She would not thank him for the orgasms. He owed her.
“And have a pleasant Christmas Eve.”
“Julafton.”
“What did you just call me?”
He chuckled, a graveled sound that sent shivers of pleasure down her spine. “Julafton. That’s Christmas Eve in Sweden. In fact …” He paused, and her heart stuttered in anticipation. “Would you like to come over for lunch?”
“Lunch?”
“I’m cooking the julmat. That’s the special meal we have today, which is the traditional celebration of Yule in Sweden. I won’t be there with my family. I always miss it, but I usually cook some of the dishes.”
“For yourself?”
“And for the guys on the team, but none of them are around this year. They are all paired off, making babies, forging ahead with their lives.”
There was that hint of melancholy again. She understood it. “I was just thinking that last night, how so many of the team have found their mates and have families now.” She had expected she herself would be well on her way, maybe a kid under her belt by now. But Andrew had other ideas. She shook her head, not wanting to dull the pleasant glow she felt while talking to Erik.
“Yes, everyone is finding their special someone,” he murmured.
“We’ll probably be put at the sad singles table at Bren’s tomorrow.”
She heard his smile. Not sure how she knew, but she did. “We could practice today.”
“Eating while single?”
“Yes, I’ve been up since five a.m. cooking with only a break to visit the florist. It would be nicer to spend Julafton with someone. Just some food, Casey, no shenanigans.”
And what if she wanted shenanigans?
She had not thought that. Except she had.
“Are you sure? It seems like a special meal.”