The Bad Boy Hockey Collection: A Collection Of Single Daddy Romances

Things must have been stressful for LaughLoudLiveQuiet lately, too, because her responses have been a bit more sporadic. Mine have been as well, though, with the law office meeting and the hockey practice I attended last evening.

But, sure enough, there’s a reply in my inbox from her, which makes me smile.

You’ve been just as quiet lately as I have. Although your eye is still your profile picture, so you can’t possibly have gone completely into hiding. So, I’m assuming your life’s been hectic, too.

She’s definitely assumed right.

Hectic is a good word for it. But considering your username, I thought you’d like that your life has grown quieter...on the online front, anyway?

Maybe it’s the scotch, or the warmth of the fireplace, but I take a chance. It’s a slight self-deprecating way of seeing how interested she really is. After days of chatting each evening, we’ve essentially told each other nothing about ourselves, but neither of us has really come out and asked for information, either.

Her response is enough to make me rethink that, though.

I might prefer the quiet life, but surprisingly, that doesn’t seem to include messages from you. ??

Not only is it the first time she’s admitted anything that resembles interest, it’s the first emoji I’ve seen from her.

So, you want to see more from me, do you? If she’s taking chances with me, I may as well do the same.

Your messages are a welcomed part of my evening. So is the eye that peers up at me from my screen as I type back.

Are you flirting with me? ?? I can’t help myself. We’ve been sarcastic and easygoing with each other. It would be a shame to stop now.

Not you. Just your eye.

I chuckle to myself. This girl is fun. And anyone who has been able to keep my interest for the past few evenings through words on the Internet alone is someone I should really take the opportunity to get to know.

Not over some stupid inbox on a dating site, though. Face to face. That’s just how I like to do things.

Any chance I could talk you into flirting with my eye—maybe even both of them?—over dinner on Saturday night? Immediately, my stomach ties in knots at having put myself out there like that. Also, my mind is reeling over the fact I’ll have to ask my mother if she can watch Spencer then, too, which is something that forms guilt deep within my gut.

There is a long pause as I wait for her reply. Just when I think one isn’t going to come, my phone alerts me of an incoming message.

You think that’s a good idea?

She’s cautious and hesitant, too. Which might put some people off, but not me. In my mind, that means she isn’t going into this with the idea of puppies and rainbows.

I answer back, Maybe not, but we’ll never know unless we at least try.

Another pause. Then, If we don’t get along in person, I’ll be telling your eyes to look elsewhere.

I grin. She wasn’t lying when she said she didn’t play games. And I’ll respect that. But, just imagine if we do get along in person?

She replies with, Just imagine. I’m not sure the world is ready for that.

We’ll find out Saturday, I type back, setting my phone down. I’m going to go on a date with someone I met online. Someone I pursued and took a chance on without even knowing what she looks like. Someone I became interested in for her personality alone.

This could be a good thing. So, why then am I feeling anxious already at the prospect that she’s right? Maybe the world isn’t ready for us to meet.

Hell, maybe we’re not, either.

Chapter Seven

Corinne

I’ve never been to a hockey game before. And I guess technically this isn’t a game, just a practice, but it’s the closest thing I’ve experienced to one. I’ve only seen bits and pieces of games on television, so nothing prepares me for how much I actually enjoy seeing the players skate smoothly across the ice and participate in drills that perfect their skills.

It’s not hard to tell that hockey is Brody’s life. Not only that, but he’s damn good at it. One after the other, the player with Marsh written across the back of his jersey fires the puck into the center of the net, not once missing his mark. Even the coach is praising him for his technique and efforts.