Roman (Cold Fury Hockey 7)

"Well, that was an awkward moment," I hear from behind me. I don't turn around because I recognize Ryker's voice.

He takes a seat on the stool next to me and the bartender approaches. Ryker waves him off and says, "I'm not staying."

I take another sip of beer, this one bigger, and stare down into the amber liquid, hoping that maybe Ryker will just go away.

It's not that I don't like him, because I really, really do. He's one of the all-time greatest goalies, and his performance is one of the major things that helped us secure the Stanley Cup last year. He's a seasoned veteran with a good head on his shoulders. Nice guy too. All the guys look up to him.

About the only thing I might question is his sanity in getting involved with Gray Brannon, because she's a woman that I just don't understand or connect with, but whatever...to each his own.

"Sucks, buddy," Ryker says, and even claps his hand on my shoulder. This causes me to turn my head to glare at him, but he just grins at me. "Having women throw themselves at you, even though you're securely off the market."

"What makes you think I'm off the market?" I growl at him, hoping he gets offended by my failure to reassure him that I'd never cheat on Lexi.

That just makes him laugh. "You're off the market because guys who give their girls pink teddy bears wouldn't consider dipping their wicks into some strange."

"Would you speak English for fuck's sake," I grumble again, but I have to take another sip of my beer because I almost chuckled at his attempts to lighten the mood.

"Don't worry about Gray," Ryker says, and that piques my attention. I turn to look at him again. "She knows that's part of the life...dealing with that crap."

"But she doesn't trust me to do right by Lexi," I say grimly.

"She doesn't know anything but your past reputation," he counters. "Give her time."

I stare at Ryker for a moment, and yeah...I really like this guy. But sadly, I can't say the same for his wife, and I'm not sure I'll ever get there. I don't tell him that, though, as Ryker's likely to throw a punch at me if I did. Instead, I say before turning to back to my beer, "Appreciate the advice."

"Sure you do," he says with a laugh, then claps me on the shoulder one more time as he stands from the stool. "And for what it's worth, I'm glad to see you and Lexi together. She clearly adores you."

I try to ignore the warm feeling that statement produces in my chest, but I do look up at him and smile. "Thanks. I'll deny it if you repeat this, but I really like her too. I would never abuse her trust."

"I know," he says genially. "I could tell you were totally uncomfortable with that situation. Gray may not have seen it, but fuck...I've been in that situation, and it sucks balls."

"What in the hell should I have done?" I ask, curious now that I know Ryker's been through this.

"You just have to be ready for it, and when you're asked to do things out of your comfort zone, learn to gracefully come up with a work-around. It will come more naturally to you the more it happens."

"I don't want it to happen," I grumble. "In the future, I think I'll just head straight to my room from the bus."

Ryker laughs and shakes his head. "You'll never do that because you don't want to deprive the kids and legit fans. Just have a canned response ready. Something like, 'Sorry...I don't think my girlfriend would like that.' That covers a wide variety of situations."

Hmmmm...that does sound pretty simple, and I vow to myself I'll do that the next time.

"Thanks for the advice," I tell him as I stand from my stool. I pick up my beer, take one more chug, and put the half-empty glass back onto the bar. Turning to Ryker, I say, "Now, Lexi's expecting my call, and while I enjoyed chatting with you, I'd much rather be talking to her."

Ryker snorts and we turn to walk to the elevators together.

Chapter 25

Lexi

I look at the time on my phone again, then my texts to see that Roman still hasn't responded to me, and with a frustrated huff, I look at Georgia, who is sitting at her desk doing paperwork. Pushing up out of one of the cheap secondhand guest chairs, I tell her, "I'm going to head home. I have no clue where he is or what's going on."

Georgia looks up at me with a sympathetic smile. "Oh, honey, I'm sure everything's fine."

And I hope that's the case. Roman was supposed to pick me up here at The Grind when I got off my shift at 5:30 P.M.

That was over forty-five minutes ago.

I feel like we've hardly had any time together and I guess that's something I need to get used to if I'm going to date a professional athlete. He was in DC last Saturday night for a game--the night we affectionately refer to as the "boob incident" game--only to come back for a day, before he headed out for games in Atlanta and then Nashville. The day he was back he had practice and I had to work that night, and thus our time together was him sitting in The Grind listening to me play my music. Well, that's not true...he stayed at my apartment that night and it's safe to say neither of us got much sleep, but then he was off traveling again.

He got back into town today and doesn't have a game for two days. His plan was to pick me up here and then we were going to go on a real date: dinner and a movie. Well, and then there would be sex, because...hello, this is Roman and I may be addicted to his body.

Even though we haven't seen each other but for a few snatches of time over the last several days, we've stayed in constant contact. Calls, texts, emails, and even FaceTime, which may have involved one very late-night sex show I put on for him after his repeated whining that he missed my body. Of course, I couldn't deny him, and we both had a mutually satisfactory ending with that call.

But I am worried that he's forty-five minutes late with no call or text, nor is he returning my calls or texts. My first worry is that something bad has happened to him and I imagine the worst, like a car accident or something. A secondary worry, which I try to tell myself is ridiculous, is that Roman's through with me.

It's ridiculous.

I know it.

But still...it's a worry. While we've been getting closer and closer to each other, there are still gaps that can't seem to get filled. That would namely be the antagonism between him and Gray, which has not gotten any better, but it hasn't escalated either. It's basically turned into grumbling about each other to me. Both of them have come to feel comfortable enough with me that they can complain about the other.

Last Saturday, Gray did as Roman thought she might, and she called me to tell me about him signing that jersey. Well, in her words, he was signing her breast. Roman's story was a little different, and that it was her jersey over her breast. Semantics, I know, but both of them felt affronted by the actions of the other and I got a double earful.

On the one night I had with Roman this week, I was a little irritated that some of our precious time together was marred when he felt the need to rant about Gray fining him for that Schultz hit. Apparently, she told him she was fining him five thousand dollars, but when she reviewed the film, she felt it was more egregious than she originally thought, and upped it to ten thousand dollars. Roman was convinced she was punishing him for dating her sister, being pissed he won't jump at her beck and call, and that there were probably hormones involved.

My part in all of this?

I listen and remain silent. I don't engage and I don't offer opinions. The most I do is give each of them my empathy and pray to God that they both grow up at some point and put this crap behind them, because it's really starting to wear on me.

This is the reason I have a little doubt about Roman.

Maybe he just doesn't think I'm worth the effort because of my personal connection to the owner and management. Maybe he's not here right now picking me up because he's just not happy with the baggage that comes with my family ties.

Or maybe he's realized that life was better when he could be free to sign autographs on women's breasts and not have to commit to just one woman.

That's probably it.

A flush o

f anger courses through me, and I know it's irrational. But I reason that it's rude he didn't show up, didn't call me, and has left me hanging with these worries. Outside of him being seriously hurt--and let's face it, the chances of that are really slim--there's really no excuse for him to be this late and not to have filled me in on his agenda.

"I'm going home," I snap to Georgia, and she jerks in surprise, then quickly stands from her desk.

"Honey," she says with her arms held out to me. "Want me to cancel dinner with Brian and you and I can go out? Drink some wine, bash on men or something?"

I snort. "You would have nothing to contribute to that conversation. You and my dad are so google-eyed over each other it makes me nauseated."

Georgia gives a tinkling laugh, but her eyes remain filled with concern, and she doesn't banter with me. "Seriously...you and I can hang tonight. It's been awhile since we drank some wine and just enjoyed each other's company."

Smiling, I walk around the desk and give Georgia a big hug, whispering in her ear. "I love you for volunteering, but honestly...I want you and my dad to go out and have fun tonight. It thrills me to see both of you so happy with each other."

Her fingers dig in to give me an acknowledging squeeze, then we pull back from each other. She cocks her head at me and asks, "But to be serious for a moment, it doesn't bother you I'm dating your dad, does it?"

"God no," I exclaim quickly. "Why would it?"