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Holding her nestled in my arms, I regret my accidental lie. How can my feelings be so strong for a girl who doesn’t really know who I am—the most important part of me? Her reason for not dating hockey players struck a nerve. I’m as single-minded as she described, and I’m not sure how to get around that. My career is all I’ve been focused on for years, and making it to the NHL is the chance of a lifetime. I already know that she's the one for me. How can I explain things to her? I need more time.
When the dickhead shouts for her like she’s a dog, my grip tightens on her waist. I’ve tasted her mouth, felt her nipple harden to little points under my palm. There’s no way she’s leaving with someone else.
“I’ll take you home,” I say, my breath skating across her neck and making goosebumps rise on her bare arms. I smooth them away and her fingers curl in my shirt. “Better yet, let’s go to the beach. We can watch the sunrise.”
She looks up at me, her big green eyes sparkling in the moonlight, and her kiss-plumped lips turn up in a smile. Her delight makes my already rock-hard cock strain against the top of my jeans.
“Right now?”
I assure her it’s no problem, explaining I even have camping gear we can set up on the sand. It doesn’t take much more for her to agree, even though I was ready to pick her up and carry her to my car regardless. After I shout at the dickhead to leave, I do just that anyway, so excited about our adventure. She giggles when I throw her over my shoulder, but they die out as she slides down the front of my body when I set her down again.
I run my fingers through her blonde tresses and bring my face near hers, teasing her with a light brush of my tongue between her lips.
“You’re going to have the time of your life,” I say. “We can walk around the town and get lunch tomorrow.” It will mean I miss practice, but with her mouth so close to mine, I don’t give a shit about anything else but her.
She leans against the car, her eyes searching mine. “I’m here to spend time with my dad, remember? We have plans for lunch tomorrow.”
“If you’re not having fun, I’ll bring you right home,” I say. “But I promise you’ll have the time of your life.”
When she laughs, I hustle her into my car, eager to get on the road. After a quick detour to grab the tent, we’re on our way. Easy conversation flows between us as if we’ve known each other for years and we sing along with the radio, seeming to have all the same favorite songs. After that, we lapse into a companionable silence marked by her yawns that she quickly apologizes for, blinking rapidly to stay awake.
“I’m fine,” I say. “Take a little rest.”
When I pull into the beachside parking lot near the small seaside village, she’s fast asleep. Not wanting to disturb her, I hurriedly set up the tent on the sand and make a nest of blankets for her. Lifting her out of the car, she blinks awake, gripping my shirt.
“Go back to sleep,” I say, dropping a kiss on her head. “I’ve got everything covered.”
A strange feeling fills my chest as I tuck her into the blankets and curl up beside her. Tenderness, or maybe awe. It’s unprecedented. I slide my arm under her head to make a pillow, and she smiles contentedly as she snuggles closer. How the hell am I going to sleep with her pressed against me, her breath soft against my neck? I’m as hard as steel, but wouldn’t wake her for the Stanley Cup.
I must doze off because before I know it, the sun is warming our tent. She wakes up and smiles at me, bleary-eyed, rumpled, and more beautiful than ever. We crawl out and watch the sunrise with our fingers intertwined and her head resting on my shoulder. We don’t need words.
After the sun is up, Harley runs to the water’s edge, scampering away from the waves as they roll in. “It’s even more beautiful than I imagined,” she says, throwing herself into my arms when I reach her side. “Thank you.”
Before I can answer, or kiss her senseless, our stomachs growl loudly in unison. We crack up and I point to a diner up the beach. The little town is mostly bait shops and tourist traps and I buy her a pair of shorts, a t-shirt, and flip-flops so she’ll be more comfortable.
She comes out of the diner restroom in her new clothes and, simple as they are, she takes my breath away with her long legs, radiant smile, and tousled golden hair. She digs into her pancakes with gusto. Seriously, how is everything she does so freaking hot?
We explore the town, making up stories of pirates and witch hunts. She tells me she’s a history major and knows some fascinating true stories as well. The morning slowly slips away and I look for a place to eat lunch, pointing out a quaint, clapboard hotel.
“We can check in and stay another night,” I suggest, wrapping my hands around her waist and pulling her close.
Her eyes flutter shut as she leans against me, head tilted back for a kiss I’m more than ready to give.
“I’m having lunch with my dad,” she reminds me, checking her phone. “We should probably head back. In fact, I better call him to say I might be a little late.”
I don’t mean to listen in, but it’s clear whatever he’s saying on his end doesn’t make her happy. Two seconds into the conversation, her face falls and by the time she ends the call, her eyes shine with unshed tears.
“He’s got an important practice today,” she says with a shrug she doesn’t mean.
Yes, he does. Shit, I know I should be there; the team needs me and guilt burrows into my chest. I never thought I would miss something as important as practice for a girl. But she isn’t just any girl. Rationally though, missing one shouldn’t make any difference. I should feel triumphant that now she’ll stay longer, but all I want to do is take a swing at Coach for disappointing my girl.
Chapter 4
Harley
My dad acts like he doesn’t remember we had lunch planned. His voice actually sounded irritated, and then he scolded me for forgetting about the big game. Once again, hockey is more important than me. Why the hell did he want me to come here in the first place?
“This is exactly why I don’t mess with hockey players,” I say bitterly, fighting tears.
