Page 34 of The Casanova Complex

But honestly, the why doesn’t even matter.

Because I just kissed Merritt, and it was the best kiss of my entire life.

Sure, it’s been over six months since I kissed a girl. But somehow, she just erased every girl I’ve ever touched. With less than first base in a public place.

I broke my own rules, and I don’t even give a shit right now because all I can think about is when I can do it again.

Fuck me.

Gauthreaux sneers, shifting on his feet. The girl beside him holds on tighter to his hand and lifts a brow as she looks up at him, then back at us.

There’s no way he’s dumb enough to start shit with me off the ice.

No fucking way.

Well, I mean, maybe he is that dumb.

I’m a lover, not a fighter, but that doesn’t mean that I won’t beat his ass if I have to.

There are some goalies who work in tandems who are iconic legends on the ice.

Terry Sawchuk and Jonny Bower.

Martin Brodeur and Chris Terreri.

I could name ten more off the top of my head.

But Gauthreaux and I? Yeah, there’s zero fucking hope. It’s dog eat dog right now, and I refuse to let him have what I’ve spent my entire life working for.

“Just stopped in for a late lunch and figured I’d come by and say hey.” He looks between the two of us, his gaze bouncing back and forth before landing on her. “It’s been a while, Mer.”

Oh, so he gets to call her nicknames, but I can’t?

I look down at Merritt, ready to ask her what the hell, but she’s like an angry little hellcat right now, all of her muscles taut as she stares over the table at Blake with her eyes narrowed.

I clock how aggressively she’s spinning her ring, which I’m beginning to realize she does when she’s nervous or anxious.

It’s not just about her ADHD; it’s about grounding herself, trying to keep her equilibrium.

What went down between them that has her feeling so out of control?

I’m trying to put together a puzzle that I don’t have all the pieces for, and honestly, it might not even be my business, but I don’t like that she’s feeling defensive toward this fucker.

I already know how much of an asshole he is.

And my head is clearly still a jumbled mess of questions after that kiss.

“It has been, but then again, that’s what happens when you break up, huh?” There’s not an ounce of softness in her voice, instead a hard edge that bites, yet he seems completely undeterred.

He shrugs, his lip pulled into a cocky little smirk that makes me want to punch him.

Even fucking more.

Gauthreaux is her ex?

I’m trying to digest that mindfuck of a bomb she just dropped when he glances down at the girl beside him and says, “Why don’t you grab us a table in the front, and I’ll be there in a sec.”

It’s clear she’s hesitant, looking between him and us, but finally, she nods and lifts on the tips of her toes to kiss him. It’s chaste and quick because he steps away from her, still glancing at Merritt out of the corner of his eye.