She leans back, and her eyes are soft, locked on mine, wanting to believe me.
“Just…please, go on a date with me. I’ll explain everything.”
She pulls her gaze away. “Zee—”
“Stevie.” I cup her face, forcing her to look at me. “I like you. I know that doesn’t sound like anything coming from a grown-ass man, but fuck, I like you so much, and it’s fucking terrifying. You scare me just as much as I scare you.”
“Why?” She shakes her head in confusion. “Why me?”
“What do you mean?”
“Of all people, why me? You can have anyone you want.”
Is she serious? Yes, of course, she is because this beautiful woman has more insecurities and self-doubt than she deserves, even though she tries to hide it. If anyone should feel unworthy, it’s me. I’m the one with the shitty reputation hanging over my head.
“I don’t want anyone else, Stevie. There isn’t anyone else. Don’t you get it? You’re the only choice. You’ve been stuck in my fucking head since October. Ever since that day you decided to put me in my place on that airplane.”
She finally chuckles, hiding in my chest again, so I lean down, my lips ghosting her ear as I continue.
“I don’t see you the way you see yourself. I think you’re good, and sweet, and hilarious, and fucking stunning, Vee. And I just want a chance.”
She stays silent, so I add, “You want to be chosen first? Well, so do I. So, choose me.”
Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d be begging someone to give me attention, to want to spend time with me, but here I am doing just that but finding it entirely worth it.
Stevie’s grasp tightens around my neck, pulling me closer, but I don’t think I can get any closer than I am right now. Our bodies are pressed together as we move along the dance floor, and our voices are quiet enough that only the two of us can hear.
But this song is almost over, and I’m not ready to let go.
“This was supposed to be just physical,” Stevie says. “It was supposed to be just sex. Why can’t we keep it to that?”
“It’s past that, and you know it.” She remains silent, so I say something I’ve never said before. “I want more than just sex.”
The song slows down, fading out, and I know the moment is almost gone.
My hands roam her waist as her hold on me tightens. My head is leaning into hers, my lips resting on her cheek. I want to kiss her. I want to pull her away from my chest and kiss her so fucking hard she forgets everything she’s worried about when it comes to me.
“Kiss me.” That’s her saying it, not me.
“Go on a date with me.”
I feel her chest rise with a deep inhale. “Take me home with you.”
I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but instead of saying yes, I plead, “Go on a date with me.”
“Zee.” She pulls back, and just like that, the song is over as well as the night.
Immediately I’m swarmed with people, shaking my hand, saying good night. It’s overwhelming, to say the least, but all I want is a different answer from the girl who seems to be drifting further away from me as tonight’s guests bombard my space.
My gaze continues to flicker to the beauty in blue, but eventually, my attention is pulled to the mass of people I have to thank for coming out tonight.
And when I look back to where she was standing, she’s gone.
26
ZANDERS
“That’s a fucking bullshit call, and you know it!”
“Zee, chill the fuck out!” Maddison grabs the back of my jersey, keeping me from getting any closer to the blind as fuck referee.
“Slashing. Chicago. Number Eleven. Two minutes.”
“Fuck that!”
“Zee, get your ass in the box and shut the hell up!” Maddison pushes me towards the opposite side of the ice, where I’m about to spend another two minutes out of the game—my third penalty of the night.
Chicago fans slap the glass, trying to get my attention, but I don’t look in any direction other than straight ahead towards the ice.
This game sucks.
Well, the boys are playing great—all but me. I’ve been making sloppy plays, delivering dirty hits, and overall being more of a deterrent than a help to my team.
I may as well get my ass thrown out and do the boys a favor.
Starting a meaningless fight sounds fan-fucking-tastic, seeing as I’ve been seething for an entire week now and needing to take it out on someone. Dirty fight on the ice? It’s what people expect. What’s the point in proving them wrong?