“Be honest. Am I stupid for saying yes to him?”
“Hell no!” Ryan’s words echo around my tiny bathroom. I have my phone propped up against a bottle of hair serum so I can talk to her while I get ready. “No, no, no. You were absolutely, one hundred percent right.”
I grin down at her. “You’re just saying that because you’re totally smitten with his teammates.”
She lifts a hand, studying the nails she’s painting. “I mean, they weren’t bad eye candy. Even though that one guy was a complete grump, he was still hot.”
I smile at how she calls Rhodes that one guy even though she wouldn’t shut up about him on our Uber ride home last night.
Last night when I said yes to a date with Collin…again.
I don’t know why I did it, and despite what Ryan says—how can I trust her romantic ass anyway?—I’m not so sure it was the best idea.
But…I could understand why he wasn’t completely forthcoming with information the first night we met. I was a stranger and he was in a tough spot. He didn’t know if he could trust me.
As for lying the second time, letting me think he was someone else for weeks…well, that part is a little less forgivable.
Even though my brain was yelling at me to tell him no, that’s not what my mouth said.
It said yes.
Well, more accurately, it said okay.
So here I am, getting ready for a date with an NHL player.
“Wear it down,” she instructs as I go to put my hair up in a ponytail.
“What if it gets in the way? I don’t even know where we’re going.”
“He wouldn’t tell you?”
“No. And I told him that was incredibly inconvenient for me because I have no idea how to dress, but he just laughed. Laughed, Ryan!”
“Men.” She rolls her eyes. “They just don’t get it. He’ll probably show up in a t-shirt that clings to those stupid muscles of his and jeans that look like they’ve been painted on.”
I drop my hair and lift my brows at her. “Have you been checking out my date?”
“Of course I have. He’s hot.”
I chuckle. Leave it to Ryan to be honest about ogling Collin.
Not that I blame her. He is hot.
When I saw him at the game last night, the bright lights of the arena illuminating all his features in a way I hadn’t seen before…just wow.
He was attractive in the shadows, but beneath the lights? Even with the cut on his lip and the bruise forming on his jaw, he was beautiful.
I run my fingers through my hair, letting my natural curls do their thing. I always save my hair for last, and if I’m wearing it down, then…
I drop my hands to my sides, my palms beginning to sweat as the nerves set in when I realize this is it. I’m going on a date with Collin Wright.
I give myself a once-over. I don’t typically wear a ton of makeup, and tonight is no exception. Just a few coats of mascara, a light layer of eyeshadow, and a soft matte pink lipstick. Since I have no clue where we’re going, I went with something casual. I paired jeans that hug me in all the right places with a simple burnt-orange tank top, a color block cardigan to match, and a pair of Converse.
“Do I look too…plain?”
“No.”
“You’re not even looking at me!” I complain.
“Because I don’t need to. There is nothing about you that’s plain. I promise.”
“That sounds almost like both a compliment and an insult.”
“Because it was.”
I stick my tongue out at her. “Brat.”
“You love me. Now, do me a favor and head for the kitchen.”
I don’t ask what we’re doing, I just grab my phone and walk us into the kitchen.
“Get into your liquor cabinet and do a shot of that whiskey you have hidden in the back.”
“Ryan! I am not drinking before my date.”
“Yes, you are, because I swear I can feel your tension from here. It’s palpable.”
“It is not,” I argue, though I push to my tiptoes and reach for the booze that’s stashed away. I pull out a shot glass—one Ryan left here, I’m sure—and pour a drink.
“Quit staring at it and drink it. Here, I’ll do one with you.”
“You know, it’s funny because you sound resigned to help me, but I know doing a few shots is no hardship for you.”
“Fine, you caught me. I’m just doing this so I’m not drinking alone.”
“I thought you were seeing Steven again tonight.”
She sends me a look that says she doesn’t want to talk about it and takes a swig from the bottle of tequila she’s now holding. I want to press, but I know she’ll just change the subject. If she wanted to discuss it, she would. I know her well enough to know when to back off.
“Go on,” she encourages. “Drink. It’ll help your nerves.”
Eh…what the hell. Why not?
I lift the glass and down the hatch it goes, the alcohol burning the back of my throat. I cough a little, shaking my head. “Blech.” I stick my tongue out. “It does not mix well with my toothpaste.”
“Do another just to wash down the bad taste.”
She doesn’t have to talk me into it this time.
“Ah. Much better,” I say, running my tongue over my lips, already feeling the booze soak into my veins.
“Another?” she asks.
I shake my head. “Better not. Don’t want to get drunk on my first date.”
“Boo!” She takes two drinks, one for each of us. She grimaces and rubs the back of her hand across her lips, then beams at me, her eyes glassy from the buzz. “I can’t believe you’re going on a date with an NHL player. Like, what? You hate sports.”
“But I love hot men.”
She giggles. “Hot men are nice. Especially ones who won’t screw you around.” She adds the last part quietly, but I know what she’s referring to. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask her if I should cancel tonight and spend the evening with her, but I know she’ll probably yell at me if I even suggest it.
She shakes her head like she’s shaking away bad thoughts. “Anyway, I had better get a text or phone call when you get wherever you’re going tonight. Just in case I need to come rescue you.”
I look pointedly at the bottle in her hand. If anyone is doing any rescuing tonight, it’ll be me rescuing her. I make a mental note to keep my phone close in case she needs me.
“What?” She shrugs. “I’ll Uber.”
My doorbell sounds and my back goes ramrod straight.
Holy shit! “He’s here!”
Ryan’s eyes widen and she does a little happy dance. “Ahh! Okay, okay. Go buzz him up. Then bang him. Then go on your date.”
“Ryan!”
“At least give the guy a blow job!”
I shake my head, trying to hold in my laughter as I head to the living room to buzz Collin in.
“Fine.” She huffs. “Date first, then banging.”
“Behave. He’s on his way up,” I tell her.
“You better keep me on the phone until he gets there. I want to lay down some ground rules.”
“No. I’m hanging up now.”
“You’re no fun.” She pouts. “But fine.” She seems to sober up for a minute and stares deeply into the phone. “If you need me, call me. No matter where you are. No matter how far.”
“Now I really know you’re drunk. You’re speaking in song lyrics.”
“I was quoting a queen, thank you very much. Have fun tonight. For yourself, and me.”
“That might be more fun than I can handle.”
“Probably.”
There’s a knock at my door and Ryan squeals loudly.
“Shh!” I hiss.
“Sorry, sorry. I’ve just never been so excited for someone else to get dicked before.”
“Ryan Felicity Bell!”
“What? You know you love me.”
“I do. Which is why I’m hanging up.”
“You’re not moving,” she says.
“It’s because I’m nervous.”
“Don’t be. Just go. Be yourself. He’s gonna love you as much as I do, I just know it.”
“You’re my best friend. You have to say that.”
“Do not. Love you. Bye.”
She hangs up, leaving me standing there staring at my phone, still unable to move.
Another knock sounds at the door, and I jump.
I rub my hands over my jeans, blowing out a heavy breath. Then another.
Okay. It’s okay. I can do this. I got this. It’s just a first date. I’ve had those before. It’s no big deal. Sure, it’s with an NHL player, but whatever. I got this.
“You know you’re talking out loud, right?”
I let out a squeak, and Collin’s deep rumbly laugh filters through the door.
“I promise not to bite. Well, that’s not true. I’ll nip at you, but not in places anyone else can see.”
If he thinks that’s going to help my nerves, he’s wrong.
If anything, the way his words have my legs feeling like jelly makes me want to hide even more.
“Harper…”
My name on his lips is my undoing.
I peel the door open and…
Son of a bitch. Ryan was right.
He’s wearing a deep green t-shirt that clings to him and a pair of jeans I’m certain look really good from behind. There’s a dark brown leather jacket draped over his shoulders that makes him look just a hint dangerous with his split lip. A layer of stubble is covering his jaw and the bruise I know is there too.
When I finally drag my eyes up his body and to his face, I find him staring down at me with a grin.
“Hi.”
The word comes out as a whisper, and his grin grows.
“Hi.”
His eyes flit over my shoulder, taking in my small, sparse apartment. It’s probably not nearly as big and flashy as what he can afford.
“Do you, uh, want to come in for a moment?”
“Actually, we’re kind of on a time crunch.”
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”
“No.”
A simple answer followed by another grin.
“Okay, but if we get there and I’m not dressed appropriately, I’m going to…to…kick you in the shin.”
“Because that’s as high as you can reach on me?”
My brows shoot up, and it’s not lost on me how I have to tip my head back to look at him properly. “Was that…a short joke?”
“Yeah. Did I need to lean down to say it so you could hear me better?”
I laugh, shaking my head, and reach over to grab my purse from the hook beside the door.
“Has anyone ever told you you’re a shithead?” I ask, forcing him out of my doorway as I pull my front door shut and lock it.
“A few times.” He’s standing close, his warmth flowing over me and making me already wish I’d worn my hair up. His lips graze my ear. “You look gorgeous, Harper.”
I gulp. “Thank you.”
We make our way to the elevator and take the short ride down four floors in silence. The car is small and usually feels as such, but with Collin in here, it feels even tinier.
He holds the door open for me as we exit the building, his hand landing on my lower back as he steers me in the right direction.
We’re not taking a car, and suddenly I’m glad I didn’t wear any heels.
We walk side by side for about half a block, not speaking a word, our arms brushing together every few steps.
“So, hockey, huh?”
He barks out a laugh. “That’s where you want to start?”
“I mean, it is kind of a big deal for you.”
He lifts his broad shoulders. “You could say I’m a fan.”
I narrow my eyes on him. “Funny, you said the same thing the first time I asked if you’re into sports.”
He winces. “I suppose I did. And I wasn’t technically lying. I am a fan.”
“And a player.”
“And a player,” he confirms, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you, Harper.”
I stop walking, and he comes to an abrupt stop too.
We stand in the middle of the sidewalk, staring at one another.
“I know you are, Collin. But I also want you to know that even if you think you’re doing it for the right reason, I won’t tolerate being lied to.”
He nods once. “Understood.”
We resume walking.
“So what’s an NHL player doing on a dating app anyway?”
He laughs, but there’s no humor to it. “It’s stupid, really. I’ve been…having some trouble this year getting out of my head and into the game. As you can imagine, dating is hard. So I figured…”
“You’d find someone on the app and bang it out of your system?”
He winces. “Shit. That sounds awful, but yeah, pretty much. That was before I saw you on there though. When I came across your profile, plans changed and I—”
“So you don’t want to sleep with me?”
“What? No! I mean, yes! Of course I do. You’re gorgeous. I would totally sleep with you. I—oh.” He takes in the grin on my face. “You were teasing me.”
“I was. But it’s good to know…” I peek up at him. “Just in case.”
His eyes spark with interest at my words. “Just in case, huh?”
“Yeah.”
Before I know it, large hands are circling my waist and I’m being pulled into an alleyway and backed up against a wall.
Collin cages me in, one hand on my waist, the other cradling my head so it doesn’t bounce against the brick wall. He’s holding his body off mine but not so far away that his warmth isn’t seeping into my bones.
Yeah, I definitely should have worn my hair up. Sweat begins to form on the back of my neck, and it has nothing to do with the weather outside. It’s a cool, October evening. Not an ounce of humidity in the air.
His green eyes bore into me as he steps closer. “Just in case what, Harper?”
Just like before, my name rolling off his tongue does something to me.
My knees nearly buckle, but he holds me up with ease.
“I-I thought we were on a time crunch?” I ask, out of breath even though I haven’t done anything to cause it.
“We are, but I have time to listen to your just-in-case scenario.”
I swallow the lump in my throat, my tongue darting out to wet my dry lips.
His eyes follow the movement. His hand leaves the wall to cup my face, his thumb tracing along my lip just like it did last night.
I hold my breath, relishing the feel of his simple touch that I swear I could still feel as I fell asleep last night.
It was like he’d burned my skin and marked me.
“You smell like whiskey.”
“I took some shots.”
His brows pinch together in an unasked question.
“I was nervous,” I explain. “You make me nervous.”
“I do?”
I nod, unable to speak.
He stares at my mouth, watching the thumb he’s brushing back and forth.
“I should have kissed you,” he murmurs. He drags his eyes back to mine. “That night after our drive…I should have kissed you.”
“You should have,” I agree. I wanted him to so badly. “I would have let you.”
“I want to kiss you now.”
“You can.”
His eyes darken at my words and he leans in closer, lips hovering just an inch above mine.
“I can’t.” The words are whispered, and neither of us misses the whimper that leaves me. “If I kiss you now, I won’t stop.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“It is when I have a whole evening planned.”
“Do we have to go?”
He lets out a string of curse words, then puts some space between us. “Yes. I told you I wanted to show you who I am, and I meant that. I want to earn your kisses, not take them from you.”
I want to point out that he’s not taking, I’m offering.
But I also respect his desire to want to make up for his mistakes.
“Is this one of those times when you’re being a gentleman?”
“Yes. So enjoy it while it lasts.”
I grin and push off the wall.
“Then lead the way.”
