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I’m not sure if I’m waiting for him to shut down or avoid the question altogether, but I can’t resist bringing it up. It’s the elephant in the room. The one only the two of us can see. And I’m not known for my subtlety.
His eyes narrow as he continues to watch me. There’s a flicker of something on his face that I can’t read.
Whatever I’m expecting, it isn’t the cheeky answer he gives.
“If you have to ask”—he pauses—“then I did it wrong.”
My smile grows as pleasure uncoils in my belly without my consent. After last night, a part of me was worried that he’d start avoiding me again or erect one of those massive walls he’s so good at building. But everything between us feels good and fun right now. Exhilarating. It gives me hope. But I’ve learned that hope can be a dangerous thing.
I huff out a laugh and lick my lower lip, deciding not to overanalyze things and just go with it. He follows the movement of my tongue.
“I don’t have to ask.” I lay my palm on his warm chest and pat it once. “And you definitely didn’t do it wrong.”
That smirk turns sexy, and his eyes follow me as I turn and walk into the bathroom. He’s still watching when I shut the door. I lean against it with my clothes clutched to my chest and sigh. I can feel the goofy smile on my face, like I’m some silly schoolgirl with a massive crush. And maybe I am. But it feels scarily good.
I take my time in the shower, shaving my legs and washing my hair. I use Ollie’s soap, the scent comforting on my skin. I don’t bother to put on makeup or style my hair when I’m done, but I do lather my strands in leave-in conditioner to tame the frizz so my hair will air-dry in waves. I wear his old T-shirt with my shorts, keeping things casual for a night at home with the boys. But I’m tempted to walk out in a towel just to defy Ollie and see what he’ll do. Being punished by the hockey stud sounds like a potentially good time.
When I emerge from the bathroom, the first period is over, half the pizza is gone, and the guys look to be on their third or fourth beers. I grab a plate, some food, and confiscate the beer I abandoned before my shower.
Ollie does a double take when he sees me in his shirt. I bite my lower lip to hide my smile.
We watch the second and third periods of the hockey game before the four of us migrate over to the table to play poker. I sit across from Ollie with the other two at both ends of the dining table. And I listen as Charlie explains the rules of the game to me like I’ve never played before. I bite my lower lip to hide my smirk, widen my eyes, and bat my eyelashes innocently as he doles out the instructions and throws in a few pearls of wisdom for good measure.
Then, I wipe the floor with the three of them on the first two hands. I know I should wait and let them think I’m a novice, allow the tension to build before dropping the hammer. But I can’t help it. The way Charlie used his smug masculinity to instruct the lone female at the table on how to play cards was condescending at best. He just assumed I didn’t know what I was doing. So, instead of subtlety, I went with a full-scale attack from the onset and made them my bitch. And I can tell from the incredulous expressions on all three faces that they aren’t used to being schooled by a woman.
But there’s a first time for everything. And I might as well be the woman to deliver the lesson.
On my left, Ben arches his eyebrows. “Excuse me. I thought you were a beginner.”
I laugh as I collect the chips I just won from the middle of the table and add them to my stack. “What made you think that? Is it because I have long blonde hair and breasts?” I flutter my lashes overtly.
Charlie narrows his eyes at me. “Where did you learn to play cards like that? Did your dad teach you or something?”
I can’t ignore the pang I feel in my chest at the casual mention of my absentee father, but I do my best to hide it from my expression. Ollie’s the only one in this room who knows anything about my home life. Well, anything of depth. I avoid his knowing stare and shrug.
“I dated a guy last year who loved to play cards. He taught me.”
Ben smirks. “Is that right? What did you teach him, Mads?”
I bite my lip and narrow my eyes at the way he makes even the simplest sentence seem like a dirty suggestion. I look over at Ollie with a coy grin before answering. My smile falters when he gives me a blank stare in return. The flirtation and the easygoing vibe that were present in the bedroom earlier tonight are long gone, like there are two versions of the hockey star. The one I get in dark alleyways and private conversations in bedrooms, and the one I get in public when other eyes are on us.
“If you have to ask … then I did it wrong.”
And like a sudden lightning strike, I worry that I’m a dirty secret to him. He’s playing it cool in front of his friends. He’s aloof, even. It sounds hot, and maybe it should feel that way. Like we have a secret. But it doesn’t feel that way. Because it must mean that he looks at our kiss as a momentary lapse of judgment. A mistake. Or that I’m someone to hide in the shadows. I want any guy I’m with to be proud to have me on their arm. Especially Ollie.
The tenuous hope I felt earlier dissolves as I pull my attention back to the others.
“Wouldn’t you like to know, Benjamin?”
He leans in. “As a matter of fact, I would.” His deep voice drops another octave as his dark eyes smolder. “And whenever you’re ready for that one-on-one lesson … you know exactly where to find me.”
I scoff out a laugh, and Ben winks at me. Ollie shuffles the deck with his eyes on the table, but his jaw is clenched, and he slams the cards down harder than necessary when he’s finished.
I lose the next few hands, but not by much. My desire to beat them dissipates as I get lost in my head and become distracted. I can tell I’ve earned their respect anyway, and although that wasn’t my ultimate goal, it feels nice. Ollie is strangely quiet as Charlie and Ben keep up their incessant commentary. But his silence speaks louder than any word spoken by the other two, and I’m thrown by the way Ollie won’t meet my eyes.
“Anyone want another beer?” I ask, rising from my chair, ready to drown my doubts in liquid ale.
“I’ll take another,” Charlie answers.
