by Emma Tharp
“Wait.” Cora grabs my arm. “Seriously, what was that all about?”
I consider lying to her, but why bother? “I had to say something to that asshole for smacking your ass. It was uncalled for.”
She blinks at me, clearly baffled. “That’s not your job. You don’t have to do that.”
I massage my temples and pinch my eyes shut. “I know it’s not my responsibility. It’s yours. Why didn’t you tell him not to touch you? I saw it in your face. You didn’t like it. He has no right.”
“Derek.” She pokes a finger in my chest. “This is my job. I need it. I can’t have you coming in here and arguing with regulars. You could get me fired. “
“Why don’t you get a new job?” I huff out.
She gives me a hard stare, eyes full of anger, disappointment, and humiliation. “You don’t know anything about me. Don’t walk in here and pretend like we’re friends. We aren’t. Now I have to get back to work. Could you please try and not get me fired tonight?” And with that, she gives me a scowl and clicks off in her stilettos.
FIVE
Cora
“A RELAXING EVENING is just what the doctor ordered.” I tap my wine glass to Brianne’s.
“Ok, well, dinner will be relaxing. The hockey game later won’t be,” Bri says.
It’s been two weeks since Derek and his teammates came in to Lolita’s and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him. An unhealthy amount of my free time has been devoted to thinking of Derek’s body pressed against mine, his strong hand on my hip when he slid his number in the pocket of my shorts. My heart rate accelerates and a pulse pounds between my legs at the memory of it.
“What’s the dumb grin on your face for?” Brianne raises her forkful of tonight’s fish special—herb roasted filet of sole—to her mouth.
Oh, no. She caught me. I’m sure my cheeks are an unflattering shade of red. “Nothing. I mean, I’m excited for the game. That’s all.”
“You’re excited to see Derek. Don’t even try to deny it.”
Shaking my head, I say nothing.
“You should be excited to see him,” Brianne says. “I’m still impressed with him for standing up to the biker dudes. They really shouldn’t have grabbed your ass. I don’t let them touch me.”
That’s why she doesn’t make as much money as I do. The screeching need to make more, do more, doesn’t keep her up at night like it does me. “I know. I’m glad it ended when it did. Can you imagine if Derek laid one of them out? I could lose my job, or worse, he could get arrested and who knows what would happen with the team. I’m sure they don’t look on getting into bar brawls too kindly.”
Her eyes get round like saucers. “I never thought of that. But it ended up fine. Nobody got hurt and I think the assholes got the message.”
“True.” I run my finger along the edge of my wine glass.
“And can we talk for a second about the fact that he must have feelings for you? Not just anyone would do what he did.”
“Let’s not go jumping to conclusions. I’m sure he looks at me like I’m a little sister. Not to mention, he had too much to drink. He wouldn’t act that way if he were sober.” As I say it, even I don’t believe it, but I can’t allow myself the luxury of guessing what his motives are.
Throwing her head back, she laughs. “Okay. Is that why I saw him come up behind you and whisper in your ear?”
“You saw that?” I didn’t realize anyone noticed. Especially her.
Brianne rips a piece of bread off the loaf and douses it in olive oil. “Sure did. It was shameless flirting.”
“I don’t have time for any of that. Nor do I need a guy in my life. They all suck anyway.” My words come out in a rush. Pent-up emotions come bubbling to the surface.
Grabbing my hand, Bri gives me a sweet smile. “Just because you haven’t had luck with men in the past doesn’t mean they’re all assholes looking to use you. You need to start dating again.” She’s being sincere, but her advice is too much for me right now.
“With what time? I’m working and taking care of Mom. She is what I need to focus on.”
“I know. That’s all you focus on. She loves you for it, but I also know that she wants more than anything for you to be happy,” Bri says.
Wouldn’t that be perfect? To have a prince on a white horse swoop in and rescue me. But that’s never going to happen. This is all on me.
Sitting up straighter, I cut my steak, but before I can put a bite in my mouth, I set the silverware down.
“Stop it,” Brianne says, and there’s a note of empathy in her tone, but also the slight edge of impatience. “You can’t do this.”
“Do what?”
She makes a sweeping gesture around her face. “You get all up in your head and then you don’t have a good time. I’m sorry I brought it all up. Let’s quit talking about Derek and men and all of it.”
“That’s a great idea.” I lift my glass and she lifts hers. We clink them together. Even though we aren’t going to talk about him now, I’m sure it won’t stop the banter as soon as we get to the game.
And as predicted, as soon as we get to the arena and find our seats, Bri is right back at it. “I love watching warm-ups. Don’t they all look hot? There’s Derek over there. Number ten.” She points her finger at him.
Despite the cooler temps in the rink, my entire body heats up.
As if I didn’t know immediately by watching his gorgeous body gliding across the ice, winding up to slam pucks into the net. I can tell even without looking at his jersey number, although I knew he was number ten before she told me. Information gleaned from my shameless Internet stalking. To me, it’s obvious who Derek is, even in pads and a helmet. “Oh, really?” I say with an air of nonchalance.
She turns toward me and rolls her eyes. I can’t put much past her.
“Can you believe how close our seats are?” Bri says before shoving a handful of popcorn into her mouth.
“They are impressive.” Sitting this close to the glass and the team’s bench sets a slew of butterflies free in my belly. Especially when the guys finish warm-ups and Derek makes his way to the bench. His eyes find mine, he winks at me and gives me a delicious heart-stopping smile. My insides melt, but a sliver of worry works its way into my mind. Worry that I’m letting Derek get to me.
Bri nudges me in the side. “I saw that.”
All I can do is shake my head. Of course she saw it. And she’s not going to let me forget that he winked at me either. “I need a drink.” Getting out of my seat, I make my way to the beer vendors and head back in to the rink double-fisted.
This is intense. I’ve never seen a live NHL game before and I wasn’t prepared for the buzz that comes with the noise and energy in the arena. Nashville fans cheer with enthusiasm when the team scores and shout and boo when one of the team members gets put in the penalty box.
An all-time high for me is when Derek comes around the back of the net and sneaks a puck under the goalie’s pads with less than a minute left in the game. The crowd goes absolutely nuts because that goal puts us in the lead. The thrill of being here mixing with the alcohol sends my head in the clouds. It’s almost as if my boyfriend just scored. I’m out of my seat, nearly jumping up and down. A group of guys sitting next to me give me high-fives in celebration.
Bri and I join the sea of people leaving the arena. “I don’t know about you, but I can’t wipe the smile off my face.” Bri grabs my arm and we weave around a particularly slow couple.
“Agreed. The game was amazing,” I say. It’s been forever since I’ve been in this good of a mood or had this much of a buzz.
“Where do you want to go now?” she asks.
I’m too amped up to go home and go to bed, and I arranged for my neighbor to go check on Mom and help her to bed. I already received a text that said Mom is doing great and I should enjoy myself tonight. “Let’s go out.”
We get a taxi to take us downtown and on the way, Bri gets a text. “Holy shit.
Teddy wants us to meet them—the entire team,” she emphasizes the last part. “At the Rooftop Bar. It’s reserved, but he said he’ll leave our names at the front.”
All at once my grin widens and a charge of excitement tingles to life inside me. I’m going to see Derek tonight. At the game all I could think about was how much I’d like to talk to him again, be in the same space as he is. Of course, I know we’ll never be more than friends to each other, but it doesn’t matter. Tonight I want to flirt with him; maybe he’ll even touch me again, like he did when he put his number in my pocket. It could be the alcohol, but I let out an uncharacteristic yelp. “Sir, we need to go to the Rooftop Bar, please,” I tell the driver.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Bri says. “My girl is here and ready to party.”
“Yes, I am. Just like you said. Let’s have fun tonight.”
The doorman is at least six-seven, maybe taller, and he has the stone-cold stare down to a science. He barely makes eye contact with us until Bri saunters up to him and flips her hair over her shoulder. “This is my friend Cora Locklyn, and I’m Brianne Jacobson. We should be on the list.”
He doesn’t even look at us, but he consults the clipboard in his hand, scans it, and unhooks the black rope divider as he lets us go by.
“Nice guy,” I whisper to Bri as we walk down the hallway and up the stairs to the roof.
It’s magnificent. The bar is in the shape of a U. There are tower propane heaters at all four corners of the space and the lantern lights cast a glow all around the bar.
The hockey players aren’t here yet, but the patio is full of people. Good-looking people, I might add. Tall men, women in short skirts and tight dresses. There doesn’t seem to be anyone let in this bar unless you meet a minimum attractiveness standard. Smoothing my hands down my hips, I’m self-conscious about my skinny jeans and red V-neck top. Maybe I should’ve gone home and changed.
We find a spot at the bar and scurry to take it before someone else does. I gesture to the bartender when she looks in our direction and she comes right over to us. “Two beers,” I tell her.
She nods and walks away.
“This place is fantastic,” Bri says, her mouth slightly agape as she scans the area, clearly as impressed as I am.
“I can’t believe I’ve never been here before. Didn’t even know it existed.” I reach across the bar to take the beer I ordered. Digging through my purse, I hand her my credit card and she smiles and waves it away.
“This is a private party. Drinks are on the house.”
Bri’s brown eyes widen. “Can you believe this? First, we sit next to the glass at an NHL game, and then we get invited to a party at the Rooftop Bar where drinks are free. This night just keeps getting better and better.”
I nod, give her a wink, and take a swallow. She’s right. I have a good feeling about tonight. Now if only Derek would show up.
The beer goes down easy and I’ve just ordered another one when out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of Derek walking through the entrance. He’s in a form-fitting suit, his dark hair perfectly styled as if he didn’t just play an aggressive game of hockey. A gorgeous dark-haired woman stops him. Her fingers slide along the length of his bicep. He smiles at her, but it’s not genuine. She leans in close to him and whispers something in his ear. My skin crawls. I don’t like her touching him, getting so close to him. Why am I being territorial? He isn’t my boyfriend.
Derek’s eyes look up and find mine. He puts his finger up and nods at the woman he’s speaking to before he walks away from her. He comes toward me, closing the distance between us. His broad shoulders are set back and his confident gait stalks toward me. I can’t look away.
SIX
Cora
LEANING IN, Derek kisses my cheek and pulls back to give me a once-over. The hair on my nape stands to attention.
“It’s good to see you, Cora. I’m glad you could make it.” He’s still close enough for me to smell his cedar and bergamot cologne. Absolutely mouth-watering.
“Thank you, or should I say Teddy, for inviting us. And also for the seats. The game was amazing.”
His face lights up in a boyish grin at the compliment. “You’re welcome. And it was a great game to see live. The crowd was into it since the score was so close.”
“I was worried, but when you scored the last goal, I stood up and cheered I was so proud of you.” Normally, I wouldn’t open up and say things like this, but since I’ve had a few drinks, I seem to be loose-lipped. Screw it, it’s all about having fun tonight.
“You must’ve been my good luck charm. You’re going to have to come to all my games.” His expression is playful, but his tone has a serious note to it.
I tilt my head back and laugh. “Right.”
Derek moves in closer and puts one of his hands on the bar as the other signals the bartender. She comes over and shamelessly bats her eyes at him. Can’t blame her. He’s incredibly good-looking, standing here in his expensive clothes with his tall muscled body underneath it. Everything about the man screams sex appeal. He must have a cult of women who idolize him, dropping their panties at his request.
He orders a club soda. “I don’t drink very much. Sorry about the other night at Lolita’s. I was out of line.” His lips form a tight line and it’s clear that he’s still not happy about seeing Gary grab my ass.
“It doesn’t make sense to me, but I accept your apology.”
“Thank you,” he tells me without going into more detail.
The bartender hands Derek his drink. He drops a one-hundred dollar bill on the bar and says, “What do you say we go play a game of pool?” He gives me flirty, playful smile that immediately lightens the mood.
“I’d love to.” Pool is a game I am actually quite good at. Years of practice during down time at the bar might come in handy tonight.
Looking over my shoulder, Bri is in a conversation with Teddy. I whisper to her that I’ll be back soon. She winks and gives me a wave.
With Derek’s hand on my back, we walk toward the pool table. His touch is electric, even in such a simple gesture.
“You look good tonight.” His dark eyes assess me.
Heat spreads up my neck. On a shaky exhalation, I say, “Thank you. You’re looking handsome tonight, too.” It’s a gross understatement; he’s rip your clothes off and lie down anywhere kind of captivating.
Strolling over to the rack of pool sticks, he gets one and comes back to stand next to me. “What do you say we make the game interesting with a bet?”
My mouth is suddenly too dry. “What do you have in mind?”
He chalks up the end of the stick and sets it down, leaning against the table. “If I win, you have to give me your number. Wait, that’s too easy. If I win, I get a date with you.”
“I don’t date,” I blurt out.
His eyes widen at my sudden outburst. “Why not?”
“I’m really busy with work and everything. I barely have time for myself. It’s sad actually….” I’m rambling and I know it. His gaze won’t let go of mine. I peer down at the floor.
“It’s okay. Relax. How about if I win you give me your number?” he says.
“What if I win?”
Tapping his fingers against the pool table, he says, “I’ll get you tickets to another home game. How does that sound?”
I want to throw my arms around him. But I don’t. Instead I nod, a huge smile spreading across my face and say, “That sounds good.” I turn and go to the edge of the table and rack the balls. “You want to break?”
He has an impressed expression on his face and hands me the stick. “You go ahead.”
Taking it from him, I lean over the table, bat my lashes a few times, and set up my shot. Hitting the cue ball hard, the rest roll around the table and the two ball goes into the side pocket and the four into the right corner. Solids.
“Nice job,” Derek says as he removes his suit jacket and rolls up his sleeves.
Quit
staring, Cora.
Assessing the table, I look for the perfect opportunity to sink a ball and situate myself in front of Derek. It’s a tricky shot, but I think I can do it. “Seven in the side pocket.” I point out the route I’m going to take with the end of my stick and lean down directly in front of him. He makes no move to shift out of the way. Perfect.
I stick my hips back as far as possible, giving him a front row view of my ass. Now I’m thanking my lucky stars that I did wear jeans. This pair highlights all of my assets.
Taking my time, I line up the shot. I am slightly distracted by the heat of his gaze behind me, but the shot goes right in.
“Woo. That was a nice shot.” Derek lifts his beer and takes a swallow.
Adding more chalk to the end of my stick, I study the table.
Derek comes up behind me. His breath sweeps over my right shoulder, sending chills all the way down my back. Taking the stick out of my hand, he points it at the table. “What if you aim the cue here and send it this way to sink the five?”
It won’t be easy, but I like a challenge. Taking the stick from him, I lean over and line it up. Derek leans over me, the hard lines of his body flush against mine, his huge hand wrapping around mine. I’m acutely aware of every inch of his body covering mine. A shot of pure adrenaline spikes through me and it’s nearly impossible to stand still, but I do my best.
“See what I mean?” The tone of his voice is seductive in my ear. He moves the back of the stick with his back hand, still guiding mine with his front hand, mocking up the shot he thinks I should take.
“Yes,” I say, my voice breathy.
He moves away from me and I instantly miss the contact.
Unable to focus and thrown off my game, I aim and miss the shot. Damn. I want to win.
Derek takes the stick out of my hand and says, “It was a tough shot. Nice try.”
The disappointment I felt moments ago at missing is replaced quickly with admiration. Damn, hockey players have perfect asses.
