Her brows rise again, but she grins. “Are you serious right now?”
“Yes. I truly believe you don’t like me.”
“So, you want me to kiss your ass? Tell you at every turn how good of a player you are? Will that make you feel better?”
“No.”
“Is it because I’m a female that you need me to gush over you? I didn’t take you as the kind of man who needs reassurance, Hoenes.”
I stand six-seven, but at this moment, I feel about a foot. “I don’t.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“I didn’t want us to start off on the wrong foot.”
Her eyes burn into mine, and inch by inch, I catch on fire. She slowly licks her lips, and I swear on everything holy she is undressing me with those crystal-blue depths. Problem is, I can’t read her for shit. Which is unreal because I’m great at reading women. I always know when they want me. I can read body language like a book, but with Posey, I think the book is in French—and not the kind of French I like.
Hell, if that doesn’t turn me on even more.
In a low voice, she says, “We started off on something, but I don’t feel it’s the wrong foot, Hoenes.”
I swallow hard as I look toward my beer. I take in a few deep breaths, but I really don’t know what else to say since my foot is in my mouth. “I think I’m gonna go.”
“Okay,” she says, and when I glance over at her, she is looking over the top of her glass at me. I thought maybe she’d try to stop me. Or maybe I want her to stop me. Instead, she says, “See you bright and early.”
I stand up and down my beer. When I set down the glass, I meet her gaze once more. “Be careful going home.”
Her lips tilt up a bit. “I will. Thank you.”
The only reason I walk off is because if I don’t, I am going to kiss her.
Since she doesn’t feel one way or another about me, that may very well end with my other foot in my mouth.
And probably a spot on the bench.
Chapter Seven
Posey
Well.
That was interesting.
I watch as Boon walks away from me. In his dark green suit, he looks like a millionaire rather than a hockey player. The suit is tight on his shoulders and thighs, but suits are usually tight there for hockey players. I know this from watching my dad have his suits tailored my whole life and from the issues my brothers have. I’m so used to seeing Boon on the ice that being under his gaze with his sexy groomed beard and nicely brushed hair, I find myself out of breath. He’s an extremely handsome man, even with the jagged scar along his cheek that has me questioning how he got it. I want to ask, but it isn’t my place. I don’t know him like that, but I don’t even notice the scar when the gold in his hazel eyes is distracting me.
I’ve only been around him for a day, and I’m realizing I might be developing a small crush. I’ve always thought he was a gorgeous man. I follow him on Instagram, and at events, he’s always so kind to the kids. His fiancée is beautiful—extremely thin, brown eyes, blond hair, and prim, like Shelli. They make a beautiful, cover-model couple, but that doesn’t mean I don’t admire him from afar. How can I not? Boon is not only talented on the ice during a 5-on-5, he’s gorgeous both on and off the ice.
I watch him as he heads out of the restaurant. Even once he’s outside, I keep looking as he walks across the parking lot, shaking his head. I’m not entirely sure what just happened, but my body is still vibrating. He’s just so damn big. I find myself attracted to men who are bigger than me since I’m a rather large girl. But Boon, he’s a mountain compared to me. I bet when he hugs, he crushes you. I bet it’s wonderful to be trapped in those arms. His fiancée is a lucky lady for sure.
I shake my head. Who am I kidding? Someone like him wouldn’t be attracted to someone like me. Look at his fiancée; she’s so small, she probably makes him feel all manly and burly. I’m not like that at all, which is probably why he thinks I don’t like him. Why Maxim never liked me. Men want damsels in distress, and I want a man to be rough with me since I’ll be rough right on back. Not that I’ve truly had the chance to do so, but I feel that’s how I would be.
Honestly, I don’t even know what I am thinking. It isn’t as if he is interested; he was just jealous I was complimenting his teammates and not him. Male athletes can be so insecure. He probably has an issue with being coached by a female too. I really need to ignore the attraction I feel for him; it’ll get me nowhere. Just as it did with Maxim. Ugh. He’s the last person I want to think of right now. I’d rather fantasize over Boon than think of Maxim. In all reality, I shouldn’t be thinking of any guys. I obviously suck in the guy department. I should just hang with myself. I’m a cool chick. I entertain myself just fine.