“Yeah, we’re playing a New Year’s Eve game against the Montreal Canadiens at Yankee Stadium. It’s like an oldest and youngest League matchup thing,” I explain. “Just means we’ll get no downtime for Christmas this year.”
“Will you at least get to see your family?”
I nod. “I’ll spend two days with my mom and sister. They’ve already made plans for us to spend Christmas Day on the beach. What about you? Any big family plans?”
She hums a noncommittal sound.
I shift my hold on her waist. It’s subtle, but now I almost feel like she’s tucked under my arm. I’m touching more of her this way.
“You played well tonight,” she says, her fingers flexing softly against mine.
I don’t mind that she’s changing the subject. I’m too busy trying not to hyperfocus on the fact that I was just sucking on those fingers over by the cake table. I can still taste the frosting on my tongue. “You were watching?”
“Of course. You’re really impressive, Ryan. You may just be my favorite Ray to watch.”
The caveman in me sits up and beats his chest at being complimented by her. Not that I need her praise to know I’m talented. “Careful, Tess,” I tease. “Don’t go giving yourself away now.”
“Giving myself away?”
“Yeah. Clearly, you’ve got a crush on me.”
She scoffs. “You wish, hockey boy.”
“Admiring my skill and speed…watching my hands as I work my stick down the ice…”
She rolls her eyes.
“Can’t take your eyes off me,” I press, leaning closer. “Can’t stop that excited little fluttering of your heart each time I take a shot on goal.”
“You’re delusional,” she deadpans. But I see the little smile at the corner of her mouth.
“It’s cute, really,” I say, straightening myself out. “I’m flattered.”
“I did this to myself. Never compliment a professional athlete,” she says with a shake of her head.
“Always compliment an athlete,” I counter. “It’s the fastest way to our hearts.”
“I thought the fastest way to an athlete’s heart was food,” she teases back.
“True,” I reply. “There’s probably little I wouldn’t do for some homemade mac and cheese.”
She smiles. “Mac and cheese? Really? Are you twelve?”
“It’s the ultimate comfort food,” I reply with a shrug.
“Can I at least make it gourmet?” she asks, willing to play along. “I could get on board with a good lobster mac and cheese. Give it a little crispy panko topping…maybe a drizzle of black truffle oil—”
“Nope. Kraft blue box. Toss in some cut-up hotdogs if we’re feeling fancy.”
“You’re breaking my heart, Ryan,” she replies with a sigh. “And here I thought this was love at first sight. Your hotdogs are ruining the fantasy.”
“Ah, but you don’t believe in love at first sight,” I tease.
She glances up sharply, her hand going stiff in mine. “What makes you think that?”
“You do,” I reply, giving her hip a squeeze. “You may go around naked in other people’s houses, kissing strangers and hugging Al Pacino like an old friend, but you’re way too guarded to go falling for someone at a glance. This pretty package piqued your interest,” I add, gesturing confidently to myself. “But we’re a long way off from you confessing your undying love.”
“Oh, but you think we’re on the path?” she teases, trying to match my casual tone. “You think you’re gonna get me down the aisle, Ryan? Future Mrs. Hockey Boy?”
“Hey, you said it, not me.”
“I suppose you don’t believe in love at first sight either?”
I shrug again. “I believe people see what they want to see.” My gaze drifts left to where Compton is slow dancing with Doc. “Compton believes in love at first sight,” I say, nodding his way. “I think he took one look at Doc and just knew.”
She follows my gaze. “Yeah…I think he did too.”
“But Sanford doesn’t believe in diving in after one glance. You heard his vows. He tortured himself for years before he could admit how he feels.”
She nods, her gaze still locked on her best friend.
“They all found their way to each other in the end,” I go on. “It’s messy, but it’s real. Gotta appreciate that.”
“Messy…but real.”
We’re both quiet for a minute, taking another slow half-turn.
“Maybe you can come to another game soon,” I say, ready to shoot my shot.
She lets out a soft laugh. “I didn’t think the NHL did many matchups in Cincinnati.”
“We don’t. But Chicago is kinda close, right? Or you could always come down to Jax again. And tickets are no problem,” I add, knowing I’m probably sounding desperate. But I don’t care. I want to see her again. “So, what do you think?”
“I think…I’d like that,” she admits, leaning into me as I do another little half-turn.
I smile.
Her hand brushes down to my elbow as she leans away. “But…”
Fuck.
My hand tightens against her back. “No buts. Come on, live a little, Tess.”
Her gaze softens as she glances up at me. There’s an apology in her look, and I fucking hate it. “Ryan—”
“I know I’ve been teasing and coming on strong, but I like you, Tess. I just want to get to know you better.”
“You don’t know me at all,” she says. “You just like what you see.”
“Well, you’re fucking gorgeous, and you know it. I’d be the biggest liar in the world if I said I didn’t want you wrapped around me like naked bark on a tree.”
That earns me a laugh. The sound warms my chest, making me smile.
“But if you think your beauty is all I see, you’re wrong,” I add.
Her smile falls as she gazes up at me, those green eyes wide. “What do you see?”
“I see you,” I reply. “I see a woman who’s bold and fearless. A woman who loves to laugh. You’ve got a great laugh, Tess.”
She sucks in a breath, a flash of something sparking in her eyes. It’s there, then it’s gone, and then she’s looking down. “What else?”
“I see someone who loves her friends,” I go on. “Someone who puts others first. Maybe I like the idea of being the one who gets to put you first. I like taking care of people, Tess. And I take excellent care of what’s mine.”
She smiles, raising a hand to cup my cheek. Her thumb brushes softly against the corner of my mouth. “I bet you do,” she says.
Why does this feel like goodbye?
I turn my face, leaning into her hand, and press a kiss to her thumb. “I want to see you again,” I admit. “It doesn’t have to be at a game. Pick a weekend, and I’ll fly you down to Jacksonville. Or I could fly up to Cincinnati—”
“No.” She drops her hand away from my face.
Fuck, she’s still pulling away. “Tess—”
“We already agreed,” she says. “You’re a Ray, Ryan. You’re Rachel’s friend, her patient—”
“Nope,” I say, giving her hip another squeeze. “I’m not buying it.”
“You’re not buying that you’re her patient?”
“I’m not buying that as your excuse,” I counter. “Rachel is your friend, not your mother or your keeper. I bet she’d have no problem with you dating a Ray if she thought it was really what you wanted…am I right?”
“My work is crazy right now,” she says, still deflecting. “It was hard enough getting away for this,” she adds, gesturing around.
A work excuse? Really? I’m surprised by her lack of originality. “Look, I’m a grown man, Tess. If you don’t want to see me again because you’re not interested, you can just say that—”
“I do,” she says quickly, pressing herself a little closer. Her hand splays against my chest as she leans in. “I do want to see you. I like you, Ryan. You’re sweet and funny and I’d love nothing more than to see you again. Maybe in a perfect world, I would get to do only the things I want to do,” she adds, her voice sounding suddenly tired. “But the truth is that my life is a mess right now. It’s not work, it’s…me. It’s complicated.”
“I know you’re divorced,” I say. “Or you’re getting divorced. Doc wasn’t really clear. She didn’t like me being nosy,” I admit with a soft laugh.
Her eyes narrow as she looks up at me.
“But if that’s what’s holding you up—”