But I can’t even hear her, because I’ve slipped Hailey’s coat off her shoulders. And now I almost swallow my tongue. She’s wearing a sparkling, backless dress. That’s not even why I’m speechless. Hottie has an intricate tattoo of ivy vines all across her shapely back.
I let out a little moan of longing, and she turns her head with a questioning look. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I say, my voice a rasp. But no, it ain’t okay. The opera just doubled in length if I have to sit beside her all night trying not to imagine the full picture of those tattoos across her naked body. “Where would you like to sit?” I ask, dragging my reluctant eyes off the swell of her ass.
“Anywhere.”
The box has six armchairs upholstered in velvet. I steer Hailey toward the ones in the front. The others are for Blake, Jess, Wes, and…
“Made it!” Jamie says, appearing in the doorway in a tux.
“Baby!” Wes exclaims with no small amount of surprise.
“My second practice got cancelled. Ran home and changed.”
“Aw. Now I know you love me.” He pulls Jamie in for a kiss.
And then something beautiful happens. Someone on staff offers us glasses of champagne from a cart in the hallway. I hand one to Hailey.
“Classy,” she says.
“We definitely didn’t have drinks last year,” Blake recalls. “It must be the box seats. Sit on my lap, Jessie. It’s almost a party now.”
She perches on his thigh and they clink their glasses together, then kiss.
I’m the last single man on the planet, apparently.
“This is so civilized,” Jess remarks, slipping off Blake’s lap and into her own chair.
“That’s exactly what we don’t like about it,” Wes agrees.
Hailey smiles, and I relax by a degree or two. “Thank you for coming with me tonight,” I tell her. “Maybe the opera wouldn’t be your first pick, but I really enjoy your company.”
She glances down for a second, as if she finds it difficult to accept this bit of praise. “It’s nice to step outside my rut sometimes, Snipes.” She lifts her elegant chin. “Have you seen Rigoletto before?”
“I have no idea,” I say without any shame, and she laughs.
When the house lights fade to black a moment later, I smile into the pregnant stillness inside the theater. A couple of coughs and the rustle of clothing are all we hear for a moment.
“Freebird!” Blake whispers from behind me, and I hear Hailey’s giggle even if I can’t see it.
The orchestra starts up with a swell of brass and timpani. When the curtains part, it’s on a bright stage where a big party is taking place, just as Jess described. I try to settle in and watch, but it’s not easy. I’m too aware of Hottie beside me. I want to watch her instead of the opera.
I sip my champagne and look more closely at the costumes onstage. They aren’t from the correct historical period. Someone decided to set this opera in… Las Vegas? Atlantic City? There are mobsters and women in fifties dresses.
As usual, my mind wanders to better topics. Hailey and then hockey. Pretty soon I realize I’ve spent a big chunk of time thinking through offensive strategies for our game against Vancouver. Any hope I had for following the opera is long gone.
Onstage, the rich guy from the opening party scene sits in a chair drinking champagne while two dozen others stand around him in a semicircle, singing.
I lean over to Hottie and whisper, “Do you have any idea what’s happening right now?”
Slowly, she turns her head until her lips brush my ear. My senses all stand at attention and salute her as she whispers, “No fucking clue.”
Her warm breath brushes my face as the music swells, and I’m hit with a wave of pure longing. It’s not just for sex, either. I’d gladly take her home to bed with me. But I crave this, too—a joke in the dark. A private laugh with a partner in crime.
I turn my head until my nose subtly brushes past her soft cheek. “Actually, it’s pretty obvious what’s going on,” I breathe into her ear.
“Is that so?”
“Yup. That rich guy—I think he’s a mafia don—is telling his goons to whack someone.”
She nods earnestly. “The man who stole his cocaine.”
“Right,” I whisper, my lips grazing the shell of her ear. She shivers. “But I think we’re getting a car chase first. They’ll find the drugs in the back of a souped-up minivan. Guarded by Sister Maria, my warty third-grade teacher.”
Hailey turns her face into my shoulder, and I can feel her chuckle. On the stage, a woman in a blood-red dress suddenly appears. She opens her mouth and begins to sing in a sweet soprano.
“Oh shit,” I whisper to Hailey. “You know who she is?”
“Of course I do,” she hisses. “The estranged love child of Sister Maria and the don. She’s come to warn of a curse she’s put upon them. She never got a pony for her birthday, so she’s casting a pox upon their houses.”
“In her defense,” I say solemnly, “the don totally promised to get her that pony.”
“In his defense,” Hailey counters, “the recession hit the mafia pretty hard.”
“Truth.”
We stare at each other, lips twitching wildly. Jesus. I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun with a woman.
Her slim hand grasps my wrist. “Oh no.” Her whisper is so soft, it’s barely audible.
“What?”
“The curse is rumored to be expanding.”
“Will everyone break out in weeping pustules?”
She shakes her head, and silky hair brushes against my jaw. “They’ll all be attacked momentarily. By a giant squid.”
That’s what does me in. A bark of laughter very nearly escapes my chest, but I gulp it down just in time.
But my laughter sets Hailey off. She’s so determined to hold it back that she swallows with an awkward cough in the back of her throat. Yet—as in the real Sister Maria’s class—that only makes it funnier. I can feel her trembling beside me.
And wouldn’t you know, my stomach starts shaking in sympathy. I bite down on my lip, but real laughter still threatens. I grin down at my tux pants and laugh silently.
Beside me, Hailey is fighting for control. She takes a deep, slow breath and lets it out. But she convulses again on the exhale.
Trying to be helpful, I sit up straight and give her the side-eye, which she returns, grinning. Her lips twitch, and my gaze is drawn to the sweet curve of her mouth.
Her lips twitch again, her shoulders pulling together with the effort of not laughing. And of course, it’s all my fault. Luckily there’s a cure for this problem.
Without a second thought, I close the distance between us and kiss her.
The moment our lips touch, the silly mood evaporates. The brush of her soft lips against mine halts my laughter in its tracks. Hailey goes completely still against my body. The floral scent of her hair hits me like a warm mist. The kiss happens in slow motion, as we both push past our mutual surprise.
Meanwhile, my libido practically stands up and cheers. Yaaaaas! it shouts. More of this!