Only One Chance (Only One 2) - Page 55
She laughs. “It was a ticking time bomb just festering until I knew it would explode one day,” I gasp, and she shakes her head. “Oh, I always knew once you got to know him, you would cave.”
“I did not cave,” I tell her and lean back in the chair, turning to her and folding my arms over my chest. “Okay, fine,” I huff out. “I might have caved a little bit.” I hold out my thumb and forefinger. “He cooked dinner for me.” I’m trying to come up with reasons as to why I caved, trying to convince her of the reasons. “From scratch as if he cooked it all.” I don’t add in that no one has ever done that for me. I don’t tell her how it threw me off the path of hatred that I had for him. Okay, maybe not hatred, but I definitely didn’t like him.
“Well, I don’t know how it happened, but I’m happy for you,” she says. “You look happy.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I ask, and she just shrugs. I’ve always smiled when needed, and I’m always in a good mood.
“I don’t know how to explain it. You are the same as before, but now there is just something about you that, I don’t know, lights up. It’s that glow,” she gasps. “Did you have sex with him already?”
“Fuck, I wish,” I tell her. “I basically handed myself to him on a silver platter, and he said no.” She goes wide-eyed. “Well, he didn’t because Google told him it wasn’t a good idea.” She laughs now, and I get angry, thinking about it. “That fucking bitch Google.” I explain to her how he goes to Google for everything. “Anyway,” I tell her, “he owes me five orgasms tonight, so he better save some of his energy because I’m ready to collect.”
The guys skate onto the ice, and the game is intense. Boston is out for blood, literally. One of the rookies has to leave the ice after getting body checked at center ice. His head was down. It’s Rookie Mistake 101: always skate with your head high. Manning was the first one to skate over and fight the attacker. His gloves were off even before he got to the scene, and by the time the referees got it under control, there were four other fights.
It isn’t the first time I’ve seen fights on the ice, but then when I saw Miller skate up and toss his stick to the ice, my heart sped up, and my mouth suddenly got dry. He holds another guy, who then knocks his arm away, and I see the smirk come out. I can read his lips. Well, almost. The only words I can actually see are Pussy. Ass. Dick. Suck. Fuck You. Fight Me. Little bitch is the last thing that he says before the guy swings at him. I grip the armrests of the seat, seeing that he’s ducked and swings up with a punch, the guy going down. The referee is there to stop Miller from doing anything else. He points at the box, and Miller shakes his head and skates to the box, pulling up his sleeves. The crowd behind him is banging on the glass as he sits there next to Manning.
The game ends with us sealing the deal with an empty-net goal in the third period with ten seconds to go. I help Candace walk down to her truck and then text Miller that I am waiting for him at his car. I take my phone out and scroll through the pictures of tonight’s game. I hear footsteps coming closer and look up to see Miller coming out, holding his suit jacket in his hand.
His crisp white dress shirt fits him too perfectly. The top two buttons are undone, his custom-made blue pants hug his thick thighs, and I swear my mouth waters when he looks up. His hair is still wet, and you can see that he brushed his hands through it. His scruff on his face makes my hands tingle, just thinking of feeling it.
“Well, look who it is,” I say, pushing off the car. “If it isn’t Rocky Balboa.” He shakes his head and walks to me. Wrapping his free hand around my waist, he kisses my lips. It feels like we’ve done this a thousand times before, which is weird since I know that we haven’t.
“Hi,” I say softly to him. With my hands on his chest, I lean into him a bit more, so I smell his aftershave all over me.
“Hi,” he says back softly. “Gotta say, I like you waiting for me.” He rubs his nose against mine as he kisses me again lightly. “You hungry?” he asks, stepping away from me.
“A little bit,” I say, and he opens the car door for me. “I mean, I’m more horny than hungry.” He laughs now.
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