Page 34 of Pucking Good Girl

And despite the vastly different financial situations of our families, we find a lot of things in common.

“You know,” he chuckles, stroking the space between my thumb and my index finger. “I understand exactly how it was growing up with Tucker as your older brother. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Mack is exactly like him. Protective, a little overbearing, and with a unique sense of humor.”

“Ew,” I giggle. “Take that back. Macklin is nothing like Tucker.”

He laughs. “Are you sure? I see a lot of qualities in common between the two of them.”

I give that a little more thought and end up admitting that maybe Becks isn’t completely wrong. “Ok, maybe their protective streak. And their loyalty. But Macklin isn’t as stubborn as my brother.”

He shakes his head. “Mack is the most stubborn person I’ve ever met, aside from myself. I think it might be something we all have in common once you get to D-1 college hockey. You need to be stubborn to make it in hockey.”

“I call that determination,” I argue. “You guys need to be determined and dedicated if you want to make it to the NHL.”

“Thanks,” Becks smiles. “I like your version better. We’re determined, not stubborn. The trouble is that it translates from hockey into every other aspect of our lives.”

His blue eyes are intense, and the way they’re zeroed in on me makes me think that when he says every other aspect, he means their romantic relationships.

“When we want something or someone,” he says, confirming my hunch. “We don’t give up until we get it.”

My hand is still engulfed by his much larger one, and as a quiet moment stretches between us, Becks’s blue eyes descend to my lips again.

“Can I interest you guys in some dulce de leche cannoli or some churros with a limoncello flavored dip?” The waiter chooses that moment to return to clear our table.

We decide to split one order of cannoli, and when it’s time to pay for dinner, Becks gives me a demonstration of the stubbornness we were talking about earlier. No matter what I say, he won’t be persuaded to let me pay at least half of the check.

Becker

Fuck. I might have just ruined the entire night.

Talia looks mad at me. But I’m not sorry that I insisted on paying for dinner.

“Hey, pretty girl,” I follow her out of the restaurant, past the valet spot at the entrance. “Wait up.”

She slows down but doesn’t acknowledge me as I fall into step beside her.

“I’m sorry for arguing with you about splitting the check.” I offer.

“Are you?” She finally looks at me.

I don’t want to lie to her. “Yeah, but only because you’re mad at me. I stand by the fact that I asked you out, and I picked the restaurant. So it should be a given that I was going to pay.”

Her hands are balled into fists. “I saw how expensive this dinner was,” her voice is a low rasp. “If you had accepted my offer to pay half, I would have had to beg my parents to feed me for the rest of the month.”

“Then I’m glad I didn’t accept your offer.”

That was the wrong thing to say. “You don’t understand, Becks,” Talia bites out. “I’m glad that money isn’t a worry for you, but it is for me. It always has been in my family. My parents have always worked hard, and even when things were good, before my dad got injured at work, money was tight at best. I’m telling you this to explain where I’m coming from, not to make you feel bad that your family has money when mine doesn’t. I love my parents; they’ve always done everything they could for us. But most of all, they’ve always given us all the love a child could ask for. I hate that things went from bad to worse after my dad got hurt and lost his business. But even then, my mom wouldn’t ask her own parents for a handout. Even when that meant losing our family home.”

I don’t know what to say. “I’m sorry, Talia. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable by bringing you here.”

She shakes her head, slowing her gait. “I’m not telling you this stuff to make you feel bad, Becks. I’m telling you because you said you wanted to get to know me. And I want to make it clear that I’m not the type of woman who expects a man to pay for stuff. Especially when it’s stuff that would be out of my budget, anyway. I need you to understand that. I’ll keep it in mind next time. But I would like you to let me treat you to things every now and then. I don’t want you to think that I’m with you because I expect you to take me to fancy places. This is not who I am.”

I take a risk by touching her. “I know you aren’t.” I take her hand into mine, and I’m relieved when she doesn’t pull away. “That’s one of the many reasons why I like you so much. Because you’re not like the types of women I’m used to.”

Like Genevieve.

We don’t have to say it, but we both know exactly who I mean.

Talia’s expression softens. “Ok. I’m sorry if I overreacted. I guess we’ll have to learn to compromise on these kinds of things. I can’t take you to fancy places, but you’ll have to let me treat you sometimes, too.”