“We’ll see,” she says playfully, and I know there’s no way in hell I’ll ever be tired enough to say no to her if she wants a kiss or something more. But again, I find that I like not knowing which way this will go. For some reason, I feel the uncertainty of our actions is only heightening my attraction to her.
“You should probably stay here again tonight,” I tell her. Of course I’ll take her home if she wants, but I’m going to try my damnedest to get her back here and we’ll see what happens.
Squeezing her hand again, I release it and turn away from her. I head back to the stove and start to pile scrambled eggs onto the other plate.
“I’ve got to work tomorrow,” Lexi says to my back. “Georgia agreed with me we should stay closed today because of the roads, but it will be good enough tomorrow to open up.”
“I’ll get you there in time,” I tell her assuredly. I don’t have any plans tomorrow other than a few hours in the gym and a short speed-skate practice.
“Then I’ll stay the night,” she says, and I smile down at the last scoop of eggs I transfer from the pan.
Chapter 12
Lexi
My phone chimes and a partial text notification is visible at the top of my phone screen. I tap on it, which takes me out of Facebook and right to the message.
It’s from Georgia and it makes me smile. Just got home. Power is on, which is a good thing. It’s colder than a witch’s tit outside.
My fingers fly over the screen. Welcome back. Missed you.
Want to do dinner? she asks.
Can’t. On a date. I respond.
With who?!?!?!
I laugh to myself over her effusive use of punctuation to denote her surprise, but before I can even send a response, my phone rings. I stand up from my perch on a plush black leather couch in the family room of the arena where Roman dropped me off about an hour ago. He had secured me a pass for the room as well as my ticket, and left me here with promises he’d stop in to see me before going up on the ice. He introduced me to one of the assistant coaches’ wives who was there when we arrived. Roman told me it doesn’t get used all that often, as most of the team’s family members come to the arena separately and closer to the start of the game. But it is a nice place for those who might ride with one of the players to hang out before the game.
Since then a few more people have come into the lounge area, none of whom I’d talked to, as I’d been surfing on my phone. I walk to the doorway that leads out into the hall for a small measure of privacy and answer Georgia’s call.
“Did you have a good trip?” I ask her as soon as I answer.
“Oh, to hell with that,” she huffs impatiently. “You most certainly don’t want to hear all about my boring weekend with my college peeps, as we were in bed most nights by 9 P.M. and none of us can handle our liquor anymore. Now who are you on a date with?”
“Roman,” I say in a low voice as I lean against a concrete block wall painted white. The hallway I’m standing in is long but curved, matching the shape of the oval arena. We’re on the basement level and I’m surprised I actually have decent coverage.
“Roman?” she asks with surprise. “I thought he had a game tonight.”
She knows this because I had talked to her this morning, calling her as soon as I had woken up in Roman’s guest room, all snuggled under a thick, warm comforter and with a smile on my face over how interesting my time with this man had been up to that point. I was actually sort of riding high on his gallantry in not making a move on me when we arrived at his house in the early morning hours. Not because I wasn’t interested in him in that way—I totally was—but because I get the distinct impression that he’s treating me a bit differently from other women. That definitely caught my attention; his elusiveness and unpredictability has me off-kilter in a very good way. Usually the men I’ve been with have been totally transparent and two dimensional, but Roman has piqued my interest on a variety of levels.
I had told Georgia this morning about the power outage and that Roman had brought me back to his house, securing me in a guest room. I had also told her that he had a game that night, and I just assumed I’d be back at my little garage apartment and would be seeing Georgia when she got back into town. So the fact I’m on a “date” right now is surprising to her.
“He talked me into coming to the game tonight,” I tell her, not able to contain my excitement. She knows how badly I’ve wanted to see my dad’s team in action.
“And after the game?” she asks me slyly.
“Well,” I say playfully. “He’s made it clear he wants me to come back to his house.”
“Of course he has,” she says dryly.
“No, it’s not like that,” I tell her quickly. “I mean…it is like that, but not like that. We’ve got this really heavy flirting going on, and plenty of innuendo, but I wouldn’t be surprised if nothing happens tonight. You know?”