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I crumbled to the seat she had saved for me and pulled her purse from behind my back. She finally met my gaze as I held her purse out wordlessly.
Jessa’s lower lip dropped away from her pouty upper lip, and those green eyes widened when she looked at me.
She felt it too. I wasn’t alone in my wild, ravenous desire.
Her gaze rose to my hair, still damp and probably a complete mess, and she sucked in a soft gasp.
“Oh,” I mumbled, and carefully ran a hand through, separating my waves. “Sorry, I just showered, and I got here as fast as I could. Figured you would appreciate it if I didn’t smell disgusting.”
“Very much appreciated,” she replied, still looking at my hair. When her gaze dipped to meet mine, she smiled slowly. “Hi.”
“Hi,” I echoed. “How are you?”
Jessa nodded. “Good. And you?”
“Better now that I’m here with you.”
God, that gorgeous blush warmed her cheeks. I’d compliment the hell out of her just to see her wear that glow forever. Looking down at her lap, Jessa pushed thick strawberry-blonde hair over her left shoulder with a flick of her wrist, where a thin gold bracelet fell below her sleeve.
“You look incredible.” I gushed, unable to keep the words from spilling out of my mouth.
“You’re just saying that to be nice.”
“Not at all. I mean it, Jessa, and you know I wouldn’t lie to you, right?”
She peeked up at me, still basked in that gorgeous blush, and nodded once. “Should we get started?”
“I feel too far away from you.”
Jessa opened her mouth to respond, and her eyes widened as she watched me pick the chair up and move it to the other side of the table. “You can’t do that.”
“Why not? I’ll put it back.”
She tossed a glance toward the counter, where the staff weren’t even looking at the guy who just moved a chair. I placed my chair down so close to hers the arms touched.
“You have my full attention,” I announced once I was seated.
Jessa shifted in her chair, bringing those gorgeous, crossed legs toward me, bumping her foot against my shin.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, and peered down at her black heels, bringing my attention to them.
“You can kick me. I don’t mind.”
Jessa ignored my goofy comment and pulled a pink notebook covered in lemons from a bag I hadn’t noticed. She held a green glittery pen, and I watched as she wrote my name in loopy handwriting across the top of the page.
“So, tell me about your hockey career,” Jessa prompted, and peered up at me. She was entirely professional now.
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Well, I started out in minor hockey thanks to the Power Play Program, and when I was seventeen, I was drafted into the North American Hockey League. Rode that out for a few years, got my shot at AHL, and here we are.”
Jessa took notes that were almost verbatim. Her hand flew across the page at a speed I marveled, and she only looked back up when she was finished.
“Has Power Play had a positive impact on your life?”
“Of course.”
“How?” she prompted, pen poised and ready, but I reached out to snatch it from her.
“I don’t want you to interview me like you interview everyone else.”
