Page 39 of Home Ice

"Brant?" I hold the door to the parking lot open for her. "Just my name?"

She spins as smoothly as if she were on ice and walks backward so she can face me. "I like your name." A shy smile spreads across her face, and I'm glad I don't have a nickname. "I already know what you're going to say," she says, "but I want to point out, again, that you don't have to pick me up for the Bee today."

"And like I told you every time we've talked about this, I'll pick you up at one. Dress comfortably. I don't know what the challenges are, but I'm sure they'll be easier in runners than in high heels."

"Ha ha." She flips me off with one hand while she unlocks her car with the other. "You've seen me exactly one time in heels."

"Maybe again someday." My mind has obviously decided to take my dick's side because it plays the image of her wearing those shoes. Those shoes and nothing else as she crosses the room toward me. Keeping us "just friends" is going to kill me.

"Maybe. I'll be ready at one."

I wait until she drives off before I get into my car. Then I wait a couple minutes more before I leave. I need the extra space between us, or I'm going to lose my mind.

CHAPTER 29

I'M JUST A GIRL WHO CAN HIT A MOVING TARGET FROM ONE HUNDRED YARDS AWAY

LILY

I have a proximity detector when it comes to Brant Morrison. The closer I am, the more forceful the alarm. The alarm in this case is a throbbing between my legs. Being alone with him in his SUV? Being surrounded by his citrus and leather scent? That thing is going full klaxon right now. I crack a window, hoping the smell of car exhaust will clear my mind, but it doesn't. I even hold my nose to the opening. It works for Silver, but apparently not humans. And right turns? I used to think right turns were so innocent. Now every one causes my shoulders to sway closer to him, and I realize how evil they really are.

I should have refused to ride with him. I wouldn't have this problem in my car. But in my car, I wouldn't have this view either. I wouldn't see those green eyes flick over to me every couple of minutes. I wouldn't be able to see the way the muscles in his forearms flex as he grips the steering wheel.

After at least three eternities, we finally pull into the parking lot, and I've never been so relieved to see so many incredibly expensive cars. There's Kayden's ridiculous hot pink Lamborghini and Sammy's practical Range Rover. I'm even happy to see Coach's all-electric pickup truck. It's the vehicle he's been driving while he waits for his classic car to be repaired, but if you ask me, I would take the truck in a heartbeat. I peeked inside one day, and that interior is seriously impressive.

"You ready?" Brant asks as he turns off the car.

"Ready to demolish the other teams? You know it. Teamwork makes the dream work, right?"

He lays his left arm over the top of the steering wheel and turns in his seat to face me. "So you dream about teaming up with me?" His lips twist into what would absolutely set the world record for the sexiest smirk ever, if that sort of thing could be quantified. Which it obviously can, because I am quantifying the hell out of that smirk right now.

My face has to be a brighter pink than Kayden's car. Yes, I have been dreaming about that. Literally every night since Dad's birthday. I've had to recharge my vibrator twice in one week. Before that day, I could back myself off the edge by repeating his words "just friends," but not even that works now. "Just a generic sports phrase. Unless you… I mean, everyone says that, right?"

"Yeah. Everyone." The smirk disappears as quickly as it popped up, and for a brief second, I swear it looks like he's disappointed. But he's not. I know he's not. "Speaking of everyone, you probably haven't met the WHAGs have you?"

"The what?"

"Wives, husband, and girlfriends. Our competition."

"And where do I fit into that group?" I try to sound like I'm only teasing, but I really hope he'll stare at me with those forested eyes, decide it's foolish to think we could just be friends, and then lean across the center of the car until our lips meet. It will obviously never happen, so my hope instantly becomes hurt.

It does feel a little good, though, when I see his cheeks turn color to match mine. It's good to know I can embarrass him if I want. "You… you're…"

"Absolutely stunning in this outfit." I finish for him with a wink. It's just a basic workout tee and a pair of leggings. Nothing glamorous. I'm sure the women Brant would actually consider dating wouldn't be caught dead in this.

But he nods. "You're stunning in everything you wear."

Oh. I didn't expect the hole I was digging to suddenly be excavated with a ton of explosives.

"You're the ringer. My secret weapon." Brant seems almost relieved to have fallen on that answer. I am too. "Kayden is the only one we really have to worry about. Every year, he brings a different woman. It's just whoever he’s dating at the time. But every year, his team is good. Mostly because he can do everything well. So far, the girls he's brought haven't been athletic though. That's his weakness. "

"What if I'm just as bad as the girls he brings?" I tease.

"You're not. Come on." He almost literally hops out of the car. "I evaluated you on our training day. Remember?"

I slide out of my seat and hurry to catch up with him. "Is that what that was? An official Brant Morrison evaluation? I thought it was an excuse to take me out for breakfast."

"Can't it be both?"

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