Cutting her eyes to me, she seems surprised. “Two-way player. That’s lethal.”
“I think so,” I say with a nod.
“Why didn’t you go into the draft then?”
I shrug. “Must have been that wrist shot holding me back.”
Meeting my gaze, she nods. “Probably. You really should work on it. You’ll be killer with that and a real asset in the NHL.”
I like that she thinks that, and it makes me want to go outside to practice now, but instead I say, “I’ll be sure to work on that as soon as I get home.”
“Nashville?” she asks. “Who do you play for?”
“The Bellevue Bullies,” I answer, and she nods as she reaches into her pocket, pulling out a tube of lipstick. Leaning toward the mirror, she paints her lips with the killer red lipstick before looking over at me.
“They won the championship last year. Good team.”
“Agreed. Going for it again this year,” I say, crossing my arms. “Where is home for you?”
“Arkansas is where I go to school,” she informs me, and I don’t miss that it isn’t her home.
“Do you play there?”
She nods, leaning her hip to the si
nk. “Yeah.”
“Cool.”
“Yeah,” she agrees, crossing her arms below her breasts, pushing them up some. Running my tongue along my lips, I try to look away but they are so delectable. The perfect size, a good handful. Or mouthful. I want to push her against the sink, touch her mouth with mine and devour her. Show her who’s boss when it comes to the bedroom, but something about her stance is telling me she is completely off-limits.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” I suddenly ask like a dumbass.
Her brows come together as she scoffs. “Why do you ask?”
I shrug. “I want to know.”
“Why?”
She eyes me, that challenging look in her eyes. I don’t know why that look turns me on, but it does. Swallowing, I push off the doorframe and shrug. “Because you give off a very off-limits vibe.”
“I am off-limits.”
“So you do have a boyfriend?”
“Yeah, hockey.”
“That must be boring,” I say with a grin.
“Eh, that’s debatable,” she says, coming off the sink. “Plus, a guy can’t handle me. No one can.”
Grinning, I say, “I don’t know about that. I’m pretty sure I can handle you. The problem would be that you’d be the one unable to handle me.”
She smiles, her lips shiny and taunting before she shrugs. “Too bad we’ll never find out.”
“I don’t know… We could. My bed is right there,” I say, cocking my head toward my bed as I stuff my hands in my pockets, causing my shorts to inch down more. Like I wanted, her eyes cut down but just as quickly go back up to meet my gaze. She then looks past me at my bed before looking back up at me. Her eyes narrow, but I don’t miss the heat in them. She may be telling me no, acting as if it’s the worst idea in the world, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to.
That she doesn’t want me.