My heart lurches with excitement. I never, ever buy myself the nice stuff out of guilt, but these pieces are so pretty and feminine that I’m desperate to wear them.
I frown. Who sent me lingerie? In the box, a card sits tucked to the side.
I gasp. Love, Rory, the card says.
Without a thought, I’m already phoning him.
“Miss me already? Fine,” he sighs, pretending to sound put out. “I’ll come over.”
“Rory. What the hell? You sent me lingerie?”
Did he think about me wearing it when he bought it? My face flushes.
“I bought it in the hotel room in front of McKinnon. Pissed him right off, Hartley.”
The bras are nearly transparent; my nipples would be visible. Heat thrums between my legs. I can totally picture the way Rory’s eyes would darken and how his lips would part, seeing me in this.
God, that would be so fun. To get him all worked up like that. I’d tease him until he begs.
What? What am I talking about?
I clear the thoughts from my head. “Okay, that’s actually genius. But you didn’t have to actually buy it.”
I brush my fingertips over the fabric. This would feel like a dream to wear, I’m sure.
“Hartley, how many times do we need to go over this? I like buying stuff for you.”
My eyes go to the crystal dragon on my dresser, twinkling in the dim lamp lighting. “I’m not wearing it.”
That would be weird if I wore it. Even if he never found out, it would be weird.
“What’s the matter, you don’t like it?”
“It’s not that—” I break off. “Whether I like it or not isn’t the point.”
“So you do like it.” I can hear his grin, and another wave of heat pulses through me. “Should I start sending it to your office instead?”
Against my will, a laugh bursts out of me. “No.”
“Okay, okay.” He chuckles. “I’ll just keep sending it to your apartment, then.”
“There’s going to be more?”
“Oh yeah.” He whistles. “Lots.”
My lips move, but no sound comes out, because I don’t even know what to say.
“I feel like you’re going to try to argue, so I’m going to say good night now, Hartley. Good night.”
“Good night.”
“Try not to think about me when you’re trying it on.”
He hangs up, and another laugh of disbelief scrapes out of me as I stare at my phone, and then at the soft, lacy contents of the box.
I’m not wearing the lingerie he sent, no matter how much I want to.
CHAPTER 27
RORY
The Vancouver fans brace themselves as the other team takes a shot on Streicher. He blocks it, and Volkov steals the puck, passing to me before I bring it to the other end of the ice.
The fans start hollering, and the energy in the arena intensifies as I approach the net with the puck.
I have a clear shot on the net, and I should take it.
Owens is open, though. Our eyes meet, and I think about the pickup league. I pass to him. It’s the same flare of surprise I saw in Ed’s eyes, but he doesn’t waste a second.
He shoots, he scores.
The arena roars with noise, and ecstasy whistles through my veins as the goal horn blows. Lights flash, sirens blare, and the fans jump up and down.
“Fuck yeah, buddy!” Owens crows as we crowd him, and I laugh at his excitement.
On the bench, Ward gives me a firm nod of approval, then my gaze goes to Hartley, where she’s sitting beside Pippa and looking at me with pleased surprise, like she just saw a new side of me.
I think I did, too, and I like who I found.
CHAPTER 28
HAZEL
Something’s different about Rory when he walks into the Filthy Flamingo after the game.
He’s lighter, more relaxed, and there’s an easy tilt to his mouth that I mirror as he makes his way to me.
“Hi.” My gaze flicks up to his black baseball hat, turned backward. Against his ash-blond hair and bright blue eyes, the effect is intoxicating. “Great game.”
“Thanks.” He steps into my space. “Now be a good fake girlfriend, Hartley, and let me kiss you.”
His lips are gentle, soft, and sweet, and my body relaxes against him. The bar fades away, and there’s just the scrape of stubble under my fingers and the tickle of his breath on my cheek. My other hand flattens against his firm chest. His hoodie is so soft, and I wonder what it would feel like to wear it. Every inhale floods my system with his dizzying scent of clean laundry and body wash.
I forget we’re in the bar. I forget this is fake.
When Rory Miller kisses me, I forget what it’s like to have my heart broken.
He nips my bottom lip, and I pull back before he can deepen the kiss and truly shatter my senses. My face is flushed, and when his finger slides to the pulse point on my neck, his gaze flares with interest as he feels my racing heart rate.
I like him. This is bad.
Also, I’m wearing the lingerie he sent, even though I said I wouldn’t.
Bad. So bad. Very, very bad.
“Hartley,” he murmurs in a teasing tone. “Nuns kiss with more tongue than that.” He arches a knowing brow.
He’s goading me, but it’s working, and I fist the front of his hoodie and pull him back to me.
This time, I don’t hold back. I kiss him as if that FaceTime call was real. He props an arm on the pillar behind me as I taste him, and when I suck on the tip of his tongue, a low, desperate groan rumbles from his chest, vibrating against my fist still holding his hoodie. Urgent, insistent need hums through my blood as his free hand grasps the hair at the back of my head. He tilts my head back to open me up more, and between my legs, arousal gathers.
I didn’t expect to like him pulling my hair so much.
“Better?” I whisper, looking up into his eyes.
“Yeah.” His breathing is ragged, pupils blown wide. His gaze flicks behind me and his expression turns wicked. “McKinnon.”
I stiffen. I forgot he was here.
Rory tilts his chin at Connor. “You should get a better drink. It doesn’t look like you like that one.”
Connor’s expression looks like a storm cloud, but Rory’s already pulling me over to the table with the others. Pippa and Jamie are at a bigger table than normal, and sitting with Hayden are his friends, Kit and Darcy. Kit Driedger plays for Calgary, the team Vancouver played tonight, and Darcy is his girlfriend from when all three of them met in university.
“Hey,” Rory says to Kit with a playful grin. They played together last season. “Only Vancouver players allowed in here.”
Everyone rolls their eyes. “Like that ever stopped you,” I tell him, and he chuckles and shakes Kit’s hand.
“Good game tonight, Driedger.”
“You, too,” Kit says with a nod.
“It’s hard enough to get this guy out with us without your chirps, Miller,” Hayden says. “Darcy had to drag him here tonight.”