Because it's NHL playoff season, I'm sharing another little snippet from my hockey story, Breakaway, not yet published (but stay tuned for news):
“Would you like to go get some dinner?” Jace blurted out.
Remi stared at him.
“Yeah.” He lifted a shoulder. “You know. In a restaurant.” Oh, Jesus, he might as well just disappear and never come back. What a moron. Like she’d ever want to go out again with someone like him.
“Uh...why not?” He tried his smile, the one that usually worked with women. Not this time.
“I thought we were just having one night of fun,” she said.
“Yeah. Well. We could have two nights of fun.”
Remi’s tummy did a little flip.
“I don’t think so,” she said breaking eye contact and picking up the folder she planned to take home. “I’m not really made for fun. Apparently. After what happened the last time.” Add to that the fact that he’d said he was going to call her when he clearly had no intention of ever doing that, having dinner with him would be a big mistake.
He laughed. “I told you. That was funny. Maybe not at that moment. I think it’s nice that your friend cares that much about you.”
And it also showed how out of character it was for her to do something like that, but she didn’t want to point that out to Mr. Fun.
“Come on, Remi.” His voice was deep and velvety soft. “Come play again.”
The suggestive words and the silky tone of his voice made her shiver, made her nipples tingle, made her insides clench.
He reached out and stroked a hand down her bare forearm, lingering at her wrist, his thumb stroking over her pulse there.
“Let’s go out.”
“Right now. Tonight.”
“I can’t go out on a school night!”
He laughed. “Why not? It’s just dinner.”
Why not indeed? Remi nibbled her bottom lip. No Jasmine or Kyle waiting at home for her to cook dinner. She had papers to mark but that could wait till later. What was wrong with a dinner out? Other than this guy was the hottest guy on the planet and was dangerous like dynamite. And about as resistible as chocolate.
“Just fun?” she asked.
He nodded. “Just fun.”
“Why not?” she murmured.
“We could go to Inferno,” he said. “The food’s incredible there.”
It was the hottest, most expensive restaurant in Chicago. She looked down at her black pants and teal blue turtleneck sweater.
“I’m not really dressed for that,” she murmured. “Neither are you.”
“True.” He shrugged. “How about pizza?”
She smiled at him. “That sounds great.”
They dropped her car off at home and he took her to Mama Sophia’s. Over deep-dish pizza and beer she quizzed him about his hockey career. “I don’t know much about hockey,” she admitted. “But I think it’s very rough.”
“It can be.” He smiled at her. “That’s the fun part.”
“Do you fight?”
He laughed. “I have been known to mix it up a bit. But not often. There was a time back when I was a junior player and I was headed to goonsville because of my size, but my coach—a great, great man—convinced me not to go that way.” He tilted his head. “You should come to a game.”
“Oh. Yeah. Maybe.”
“I’ll get you a ticket. I’ll get you two tickets and you can bring your friend…what’s her name…?”
“Yeah. She didn’t seem too impressed with me the other night. I think I should make it up to her.”
“It wasn’t you she wasn’t happy with, it was me.” Remi grimaced. “She’s the one who wanted me to find a guy that night and get lucky. Then when I did, she freaked out and got all paranoid that I was leaving with a serial killer.”
Jace choked on a mouthful of beer. “Good to know she has a high opinion of me.”
Remi laughed. “She didn’t even know who you were. She would have felt that way if I was going home with the Pope.”
“Ha. Be glad it was me. You wouldn’t have gotten three orgasms with the Pope.”
Now it was her turn to choke. “I didn’t get three! We were interrupted…”
“Damn. That’s right.” His eyes went even darker. “I guess I owe you one more, then.”