Page 21 of Matched with the Player

“I’m no expert, Murph. I’m doing my best here.” He punched open the locker room door. “But I think it’s worth a try. You don’t want to play like that tomorrow night.”

No kidding. But how was he supposed to call her again after the way she’d shut him down last night, saying they’d made a mistake? He couldn’t exactly fill out the dating survey like he wanted anyone but her. She wouldn’t even buy it.

Entering the locker room, all eyes turned his way. At first, he figured the guys were gauging his mood after the missed shot attempt. But then Alexandre, the backup goalie, stepped forward.

“Murph, you know the ladies, they wait for you.” The kid’s Russian accent was thick and his syntax a little sketchy, but Kyle could usually figure out what he meant.

Now, he wasn’t so sure. Twenty teammates wouldn’t be standing around gawking over a couple of women waiting for a player.

“What ladies?” He looked around, hoping someone else would clue him in with more details.

Leave it to his smirky position rival, Gagnier, to clarify.

“Professional matchmakers.” Leandre was already finished with his shower and reeking of cheap cologne in his street clothes. “Apparently Marissa was just the first and the best in a long line of imitators. I went out to the lobby a minute ago and you have your own private fan club of matchmakers waiting. One of them has a video camera. I thought she was a reporter.”

The last freaking thing he needed before a game when his play was already off.

“You can walk out behind me,” Axel joked, flexing enough muscle to provide a human shield for anyone on the team.

Kyle wasn’t sure how he’d get out of the arena without speaking to them. But he was damn sure where he’d go when he left the rink. Marissa Collins had somehow gotten him into this mess. So she, in all her infinite matchmaking wisdom, would tell him how to get out of it.

After that, he was going to kiss her until the team flight left for Pittsburgh. With any luck, a thorough taste of Marissa would take the edge off. Because this time, he wouldn’t be the one to pull away.

* * *

Marissa jumped when the doorbell rang downstairs.

Her mother was finally sleeping peacefully after a difficult physical therapy session this morning. Her mom had been frustrated and tearful with her lack of mobility, finally demanding the physical therapist leave. The encounter had been exhausting for all of them, ending with a call from the rehab center suggesting they move Brandy from the house into full-time rehabilitative care.

A step Marissa had been fighting tooth and nail for weeks.

“Please don’t ring again,” she muttered to herself, flying down the stairs to the main entrance no one used but strangers.

Probably neighbors selling Girl Scout cookies or something. And how could she tell those cute faces she was flat broke?

Wrenching open the door before she’d thought of a good excuse, she was surprised to find Kyle Murphy there, his finger hovering over the doorbell.

“Wow. You’re a far cry from a Girl Scout, that’s for sure.” She drank in the sight of him by daylight.

Green eyes, dark hair, sculpted cheekbones and square chin. A nose that took a wrong turn midway and somehow only made him more gorgeous, possibly because it broadcast a “don’t mess with me” vibe. Hard to believe she’d kissed a man that looked like him.

“I take it you were expecting someone else?” He shoved his hands in the pockets of a dark blazer that he wore over a white t-shirt with jeans. “I’m afraid I’m not selling any cookies.”

His voice did pleasant things to her insides, the sound humming over her skin and tickling up the back of her neck. What was it about him that appealed to her at a gut level? Because she’d seen plenty of good-looking guys in the years she’d toured with her mom – pop stars, actors, Hollywood royalty- and none of them had ever turned her insides out the way Kyle did.

“No one usually comes to the front door except for people trying to sell me something.” She wondered if she really needed to invite him in. A sixth sense told her if he crossed the threshold, he wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon.

Her heart rate had revved into high gear the moment she’d spotted him at the door. Now, it sent her blood around her body in a dizzying, high-speed cycle. Apparently, she’d forced herself to be objective about men and dating for too long. Some wild and decadent impulse inside her was rebelling now… practically pounding to get out and have its way with the man standing in front of her.

“You should empathize. You’re a fairly hardcore salesperson yourself.” He withdrew the matchmaking questionnaire she’d given him the night before. She recognized the creamy color of the stationery.

But she wasn’t sure she recognized the tone behind his words. Was he upset with her because of last night? Because she’d told him it was a mistake for them to be together?

“I won’t be pitching my services to you anymore.” The finality of the statement unsettled her. She couldn’t imagine not seeing him again. “I shouldn’t have come on so strong.”

Hearing how that sounded, she rushed to clarify.

“I mean, I shouldn’t have pitched my services so forcefully.” She didn’t want it to sound like she’d thrown herself at him in a personal way. Although there was no denying she’d all but melted in his arms.

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