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She shook her head.
“Would you like to go to dinner? Tonight?” The words were out of my mouth before I could second guess myself.
I stared forward, guiding us through the halls to the kitchen. I didn’t want her to think I was too desperate, but damn, I was determined to get her number or confirm a date with her.
I had been in her presence for mere minutes, and I craved more. I mean, if she told me no, I’d live with it. I’d probably start snorting vanilla extract to chase the high I felt in her presence, but I wasn’t going to pressure her into anything.
“Tonight?”
I shrugged. “Is that too soon?”
“No. You know what? I’d love that.” She smiled and pulled out her phone, handing it to me.
I added my number and handed it back to her, grinning when my phone dinged from my pocket. I pulled it out, not wanting to delay adding her to my contacts. She had sent me two words:
It’s Emily.
“Emily,” I murmured, and her cheeks flushed all over again. “How about I pick you up? I have a driver—it’s pretty fancy, but no big deal.” I shrugged, and she laughed.
The sound of her laugh vibrated through me, cleansing every bit of my energy in its path.
“Are you a serial killer?”
“Nah, not enough time with games and practice and PR stuff.”
She smirked and slipped her phone away. “Good. I’ll text you my address.”
“Excellent.”
My phone buzzed, and I groaned. “That’s my alarm. Practice starts soon.” I bit my lower lip, holding back all the things I wanted to do to this woman. “I’ll see you tonight, Emily.”
I was about to turn away when I remembered. Smacking my forehead, I pointed down the hall. “Go until you see a hallway on your left. Two doors down on the right will lead you to the kitchen.”
She thanked me, but I just folded my arms and smirked.
Shifting on her feet, she tilted her head. It sent her curls tumbling down her shoulder and I wanted to reach out and wrap a lock of that hair around my finger, tugging—
“What?”
“If you laugh at my name again, I’ll show you just how savage I can be.”
Her cheeks flushed into a pink brighter than her jacket, and I held my smirk steady.
“See you tonight,” she whispered.
“Tonight,” I echoed and watched her walk away until the second alarm buzzed.
I took off on a fast jog through the halls. Coach Locke was a stickler for being on time. I’d be penalized and stuck doing drills by myself if I wasn’t on the ice soon. I had just enough time to get my gear on and get out there before I felt his wrath.
In the locker room, I was on autopilot. The next thing I knew, I was face-to-face with Jerrod “Lightning” Stuart.
I smacked his shoulder pads and grinned. “You lucked out today, Lightning.”
My goalie—the man I’d lay my life down for on the ice—tilted his head, eyes bewildered. “What did I do?”
“Nothing,” I said, laughing as I skated backward. “That’s why you lucked out.”
If my goalie had asked Emily out first, I would have had to fall back in line.
