Garrett (Cold Fury Hockey 2)

"A woman exposing herself to me?" I hazard a damn good guess.

"Yeah...I can't say as I've ever been in a relationship with someone where a woman would so boldly hit on my boyfriend," she grits out. "I can't say as it feels very good."

"It's nothing," I assure her. "I wouldn't have done that. I was just about to tell her no."

Olivia sighs with frustration. "But see, Garrett...that doesn't matter. What bugs me is that this is a part of your life. You're constantly going to be faced with that, and I'm constantly going to be insecure about it. I just don't think I have it in me to deal with that. Not at this point in my life."

"So what?" I ask with a bit of resentment. "A woman exposes her breast to me, and you're ready to cut and run?"

"Yes," she shouts at me, but then lowers her eyes. "I mean...no. Hell, I don't know. This isn't something I've ever had to deal with."

I release my hold on Olivia's hand and cup her face. Her eyes are murky, shadowed heavily by the streetlight behind me. I lean in to peer at her closer. "What you saw in there...that woman coming on to me? Yeah...that happens sometimes. And before I met you, I'm not going to lie...I would have probably fucked her."

Olivia tenses up and she tries to pull her face away, but I hold tight. I wait for her to succumb and give me her full attention.

"But since I met you, that stuff means nothing to me. That is a pale representation of a shallow life...a meaningless fuck. Compared to you...it's all so trite and unfulfilling."

Olivia takes in a stuttering breath and lets it out slowly. Her shoulders sag a bit, and I can feel her relax marginally.

"Nothing...no woman...no piece of ass or fake boob thrust in my face will ever turn my eye away from you. Nothing and no one will ever come close to making me feel the way I do just when I'm holding your hand, or listening to you breathe at night. Nothing compares."

She blinks at me, her eyes wide and confused. I give her head a slight shake with my hands. "Do you understand me, Olivia? Nothing compares to you."

My last words are punctuated, and I'm relieved when I see understanding filter into her gaze. "You really mean that, don't you?" she asks in wonder.

"I'm dead fucking serious," I tell her adamantly. "I can't see anything but you."

Olivia's lips curl upward into a brilliant smile and she raises her own hands to grasp tightly onto my wrists. "I guess maybe now would be a good time to kiss me, then."

"Fuckin' A," I agree, and I pull her mouth to mine in a swift and desperate kiss of affirmation. She sighs into me, and when I pull back, I see her eyes closed in pleasure and a peaceful smile on her full lips.

"Are you okay?" I ask her, and her eyes pop open.

She nods, her smile still in place. But then her brow creases in worry, and she says, "Did I make a terrible fool of myself back there?"

I pull her into my body and wrap my arms around her. Resting my chin on her head, I assure her, "No one even saw you leave. It's cool."

"My first reaction was to slap the hell out of that bitch," Olivia says, and I jerk in surprise.

Pulling back, I look down at her in wonder. "You'd really have done that?"

She shrugs daintily, but there's still fire in her eyes. "I wanted to, but who knows?"

"That's kind of hot," I tell her with a grin. "You protecting my virtue and all that."

Then I hear my favorite sound in the world. Olivia tilts her head back and laughs...full-throated and raspy...sexy as fuck. She presses her body in closer to mine and levels her gaze at me. "Well, I have no intention of protecting your virtue when you take me home tonight. In fact, I'm thinking about ruining it."

Leaning down, I give her another quick kiss, then pull away, grabbing her hand. Turning back toward Houlihan's, I tell her, "Let's go make our goodbyes to everyone and get the hell out of here."

"Best suggestion I've heard all night," she agrees as she trots to keep up with me.

"I'm never going to live this down," I mutter as we make our way back inside the bar.

"Why's that?"

"Because Alex already said I was a pussy, and Zack was making fun of me because I couldn't keep my eyes off of you for more than two seconds. So the fact we're leaving so suddenly means they are going to give me shit for weeks."

Olivia stops in her tracks and pulls against my hand. I turn to face her with my eyes raised.

"You really can't keep your eyes off me?" she asks with a grin.

I grimace, but say, "Apparently, it's a problem I have."

Bringing the back of her free hand to her mouth, Olivia giggles and looks up at me through her long eyelashes. "Well, I find that to be sexy as hell, and it has just earned you a stellar blow job when we get out of here."

I step in closer to her, looking down into her eyes, filled with promise. "You may possibly be the perfect woman."

"So you've said before," she says tartly as we walk inside Houlihan's.

My eye catches movement from the side, and I see the autograph-seeking blond boob-exposer standing just inside the door. I don't look at her for more than a second before turning my gaze toward the one and only woman who can truly hold my attention. Olivia looks back at me, and I see everything that is important in my world...care, desire, longing.

Not giving a shit if the entire bar is watching, but in particular hoping the blonde is at least getting an eyeful, I bend down and kiss Olivia with all the passion and care I can muster. I push my tongue into her mouth and pull her body in close, bending her slightly backward. My hands hold on to her tightly...possessively, and, yeah...I even hope Alex and Zack are watching so they know I'm not a pussy, but rather I own my attraction to this beautiful woman.

Fuck, my life is grand.

Chapter 20

Olivia

"Are you all settled in?" Stevie asks as he tucks the blanket around me. I have my recliner kicked all the way back, my IV is going strong, and I have the most recent issues of Cosmopolitan, Vogue, and Elle.

"I'm good," I tell him with a smile. "Maybe some ginger ale in a bit."

"You got it, kiddo. I left something in the van and I need to lock it up."

"I still can't believe you drove me here in the delivery van," I mutter. "It sticks out like a sore thumb."

And it does. It's the same color purple that Fleurish is painted in, and you can see it coming from a mile away. He does nothing but give me a smirk and flounce out of the treatment room. Thankfully, Stevie's dressed fairly sedate today, in a pair of white skinny jeans and a Hello Kitty T-shirt. His Mohawk is tipped in blue, but he's forgone any facial rhinestones.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I reach under the blanket to fish it out. When I see MY HOTTIE on the screen, I smile big. I mean really big. Garrett changed his name in my contacts to that a few days ago, and it still tickles me.

"What's up?" I say cheerfully into the phone.

"You're awful chipper for someone that's having chemotherapy today," he says, his voice as deep as the ocean and as smooth as melted chocolate. I sigh to myself and close my eyes so I can conjure up his face. "Are you all hooked up?"

"All hooked up," I tell him as I glance up at the bag of drugs that is dripping into my vein. "Stevie has me tucked in and I'm going to gorge myself on trashy magazines for the next few hours."

Garrett is silent for a moment, and then he says, "I miss you. I wish I was there."

My heart swells to nearly bursting proportions, because while his words have a profound effect on me, it's the tone of his voice that does me in. So wistful, filled with longing. It's exactly how I've been feeling since he left yesterday for an extended road trip for games against both L.A. teams. He won't be back for another four days and it sucks.

Just plain sucks.

"I miss you too. And you're up awful early," I muse, noting that it's only six A.M. in California right now.

"Wanted to talk to you...wish you good luck when you started the treatment," he says simply, and again...my heart thumps with abandon. "I'm going to

get a light workout in this morning with Alex, then we'll head over to the arena around lunchtime."

"I'll be watching you tonight on TV," I tell him as I fiddle with the edge of my blanket. "Cheering you on in between puking sessions."

Garrett curses low. "Not funny, Olivia."

"Little bit, right?" I tease.