Page 6 of The Game Changer

It doesn’t take me long to make it across town to Jill’s condo building. I park and walk up to the secure door, pressing the buzzer for her unit.

“Hello?” Her voice is loud, coming out of the speaker.

“Hey, it’s me,” I tell her, feeling a little awkward now that I’m here. I don’t usually spring dates on women so last minute, but I enjoy Jill’s company, so I draw in a deep breath to calm my suddenly racing nerves as I step onto the elevator, hitting the button for her fourth-floor unit.

“I realized after I buzzed you up that I could have just come down, I was ready,” Jill greets me at her door.

“It’s not a problem,” I tell her, holding out a hand for her to walk in front of me. I wait while she turns to lock her door, then follow her back to the elevator. “So, how was your afternoon?” I ask once we’ve both settled into my truck a few minutes later.

“Pretty standard day. Had a full afternoon of patients, followed by paperwork.”

“How long have you had your business?” I ask as I change lanes, driving us across town.

“Almost two years. It was a leap of faith to open, one that without my parents’ help would have never happened. But one I’m so glad that I took. I hit the ground running and have not looked back since. Thankfully, it was well accepted by the medical community, as there was a need for a standalone ultrasound clinic. I’ve made lots of connections with so many doctors’ offices in that amount of time.”

“You also work in some of their offices, sometimes, right?”

“Yep. I had a few offices come to me that already owned their machines but had a hard time finding reliable techs to run them. So, they contract with my company to provide the tech. I have a staff of ten that all work within different offices. Some work out of one office full-time, and some rotate depending on the needs of the offices. We then, of course, have our own office. I’m usually at that location, along with one other technician.”

“Sounds like a great system. I’m glad that it all worked out for you so well,” I tell Jill as I pull into the parking lot of a little Mexican restaurant. I got turned on to this place when I first came to the Eagles organization. It has become somewhat of a staple for many of the guys and their families.

“I love this place!” Jill says as we park.

“Oh good, because I just realized I never asked if this would be okay with you. Sorry about that.”

“No need to apologize. I’m pretty easy going and would have been happy with pretty much anywhere you could have picked.”

“Good to know for next time.” I wink at her as I get out of the truck. She’s out of it before I can get around to open her door for her, which irrationally irks me for some odd reason. I’ll have to ponder that later. I follow Jill up to the doors, reaching around her to open it so she can walk through. I’m a damn gentleman, thank you very much.

“Thanks,” she murmurs as she brushes against me as she passes through the doorway. My dick perks up at our contact, and it takes a lot of willpower not to pull her against me so she can feel just what she’s stirred to life. This reaction around Jill isn’t new, she’s a beautiful woman, and I’d have to be a dead man not to find her attractive. But our relationship has always been in the friend zone, but something tells me that this little date could change that.

The hostess leads us to a table right away, another perk of this place, they hardly ever have a wait. I walk just behind Jill, getting the perfect view of her ass, and it is looking mighty fine tonight in her tight jeans and curve-hugging top. Between her brushing up against me a moment ago, and this view, my body is humming with pent up frustration suddenly.

“So, you said your sister wants you to talk with someone about what’s going on?” Jill asks once we’ve placed our order.

I blow out a breath, then snag a chip and drag it through the bowl of salsa between the two of us before I muster up the will to answer her. “Yeah. She doesn’t want me to let it fester inside. She’s worried that I’ll get depressed or some shit over having to retire.”

“I can see why she’d worry about that. Hockey’s been your life for how long, a few decades?”

“Yeah,” I snag another chip, scooping up lots of salsa on it. “I started playing when I was five. It’s been my life for thirty years. I don’t really know what I’ll do if I don’t have hockey anymore.”

“I’m sure when you were younger—not that I’m saying you’re old, by the way—” She smirks, looking at me over the rim of her margarita glass. I watch as her tongue peeks out and licks a line of the salt off the rim before her lips wrap around the straw, and my fucking dick twitches again. “Back to what I was saying. I’m sure when you were younger, you had a contingency plan in place in case you didn’t make the pros or didn’t play for very long. What did that look like? What did you study in college?”

“I was like almost every other jock. I studied communications and broadcasting. Such a fucking cliché.” I laugh and shake my head at my younger self.

“So, I take it that it doesn’t really interest you now?” she asks, grabbing a chip of her own and scooping up some of the queso we also have between us.

“Not really. I’ve never been comfortable in front of a camera. It’s why I don’t like interviews.”

“What does interest you? Besides hockey?” she asks, raising a brow at me in a challenge.

“Are you secretly a mind reader?” I ask on a chuckle. “I like how you call me on my bull before I even have a chance to say anything.”

“Nope, but it was an easy guess that you’d say hockey. I mean, it is what you breathe, eat, and sleep twenty-four seven and have for the last thirty years.”

“You’ve got me there,” I tell her as the server approaches with our plates.

“Careful, the plates are hot. Can I get either of you anything else for now?” the waitress asks after setting the plates in front of us.

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