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“That’s…weirdly logical. I’m equal parts disappointed and impressed with your self-discipline,” I responded, confused as to why my chest ached at the idea of not knowing these things about her when my head knew it was for the best. I’d decided I needed no distractions this season, and Ari would be the biggest kind of distraction.

The music shifted to something faster, but I wasn’t ready to lose this moment—not yet.

“Well, if we’re only going to have this one night…” I paused, rubbing at the back of my head. “How about we make it a real date?”

I’d meant what I said earlier. We’d do whatever she wanted, especially now that we had an expiration date.

But the moment the word “shit” escaped her lips and she yanked out her phone, my stomach dropped.

Idiot. I was a complete idiot. I didn’t even know if she was single. Hell, I didn’t know if she liked men.

The silence between us stretched, sharp, and unbearable. I forced myself to stay still, even though every instinct screamed at me to backtrack—crack a joke—anything to escape the awkward, sinking feeling building in my chest.

She tapped furiously on her phone, biting her lower lip. “I just need to check something real quick. Remember my cousin that I told you about?” She looked up briefly as if she were seeing if I was still following. “Well, in the excitement of telling off your ex, I forgot she’s supposed to be here with me.”

I exhaled, though it didn’t make the knot in my gut untangle. Maybe this wasn’t the part where she reminded me we were strangers and I needed to get lost.

“Pendeja,” she whispered, shaking her head. “Sorry about that.”

“No problem.” My voice cracked, but she didn’t seem to notice. Or if she did, she let it slide.

Her lips curled into a sly smile as she furiously typed a message.

“You’re in luck.” The rock on my chest was a little lighter at those words. “Apparently, my original date for tonight is…horizontally occupied. She says not to bother waiting up for her.” She shook her head, tucking her phone back in her pocket.

“Well,” I said, my confidence returning, “Want me to grab us another round?”

She tilted her head, studying me with those sharp brown eyes. I got the distinct feeling she was weighing whether or not to let me in.

I saw the moment she made up her mind. Her eyes lit up, and those glossy lips of hers formed a mischievous smile. She made me both nervous and excited when she looked at me that way.

“All right,” she finally said. “But you’re not taking me anywhere. I’m taking you somewhere.”

With my hand still in hers, she dragged me through the crowd, tossing out a half-hearted “excuse me” when needed while shoulder-checking professional athletes without a second thought. The whole scene had me smiling like a fool. She carried herself with effortless confidence, and I’d be a liar if I said that didn’t make her hotter.

“Now who’s the potential murderer? Where exactly are you taking me?” I asked, leaning over her to push the door open. I’d let her pull me around all night if that’s what she wanted, but there was no way I was letting her open a door.

The look she shot me as she stepped outside told me she might not feel the same way.

“Ari, is this going to be our first friend fight?” I leaned in close, keeping my voice low to avoid being overheard. One downside to being an NHL player, privacy was a luxury I didn’t always have. Lately, it seemed like everyone was looking for a way to worm into my life, whether I wanted them to or not. “Because when I’m around, you’re not opening a door for yourself.”

She huffed, the air blowing a piece of her dark hair into her face. “Women can open their own doors, you know.”

“Oh, I know. I’m sure you can do a lot of things all by yourself, Ariella, but that doesn’t mean you should have to,” I said, my voice low, tucking the brunette lock back behind her ear.

Her lips twisted, and her sharp eyes narrowed like she was trying to decide exactly where to aim her next argument. There was no hiding my cocky smile when she rolled her eyes and relented, realizing she wasn’t going to win this one.

“Fine.” A black polished nail poked at my chest, and she winced a bit when she hit the muscle. “But you’re not paying for my meal, okay? I can buy my own stuff, Longest Ride.”

“Not a bull rider,” I said with a laugh. “Besides, I thought there were no job titles allowed.”

She let out a noncommittal hum, her eyes raking up and down, lingering a little longer than necessary on my legs.

“My eyes are up here, Ari.”

“Thanks for the anatomy lesson,” she sassed, though I could swear her cheeks were a shade darker than before. If I’d been Jimenez, I might’ve offered to give her a hands-on anatomy lesson—but that wasn’t who I was.

Or how I was supposed to act.