Page 49 of King

“You don’t owe me anything—”

“You. Let. Me. Handle. It.”

Huffing out a breath of frustration, she waves her hand at me. “Fine. You can handle it.” I think I’ve annoyed her as much as Scott, but then she gives me an impish grin. “But I have to admit, it was fun to see someone put that man in his place. I guess I owe you.”

“You can pay up tonight,” I suggest with a low rumble.

I expect but don’t get the blush I produced earlier, and instead, her eyes go dark with interest. “I can think of a few things to make us square.”

Christ, if that doesn’t tighten things down below. “Like what?”

“Like you’ll have to wait and see,” she purrs, and then goes back to her salad. I watch her as she chews a bite, and then something strikes her funny as she starts to laugh.

“What is it?” I ask with a smile.

She shakes her head, a tiny chuckle escaping. “It’s nothing. Well, actually… it’s just funny that Scott always tore me down and one of his favorite ways was to mock my charms in the bedroom. It dinged my confidence and I never had the desire or urge to flirt with him.” She shrugs, still smiling. “With you, that stuff just pops out easy.”

“Because I think you have a better level of trust that I won’t do those things to you,” I suggest.

“Maybe. Maybe your youth just makes me sassy.”

I stare at her a moment before busting out with a laugh. “I can’t believe you just joked about our age difference. Does that mean you’re accepting it?”

Her eyes twinkle as she stares back at me. “Maybe.”

CHAPTER 13

Willa

Afrenzied excitementvibrates through me as we step into the arena to watch the Titans play. Well, to watch King play would be more accurate, and that’s probably what I’m most thrilled about.

Loud rock music pumps through the speakers and the crowd’s fervent cheers prickle my skin. Brittany, Izzy and I make our way through the concourse, the scent of popcorn, hot dogs, and pretzels wafting through the air.

“Look, Aunt Willa!” Izzy tugs at my hand, her eyes wide with excitement. “I want a pretzel!”

“All right, let’s get some snacks.” We stop at a concession stand and load up—two giant pretzels, a bucket of popcorn, and sodas to start, but then Brittany insists on getting nachos with extra cheese, and I can’t resist the temptation of a hot dog.

With our arms full, we find our seats with an usher kindly guiding us. When the tickets showed up this morning at my office via courier, I was surprised to see they’re front row on the ice. I was practically giddy when I saw they’re beside the penalty box for the Titans and I wonder if King will end up in there tonight. He’s not just a first line defenseman, he’s an enforcer too which means if there’s a fight to be had, there’s a good chance he’ll be involved.

It’s just one of the many details I’ve learned over the handful of dates we’ve had and I’m not sure how I feel about this role. On the one hand, it’s hot as hell that he’s a protector for his teammates and willing to knock heads to achieve his goals. Onthe other hand, it makes me worry about him as I don’t want to see him hurt.

In fact, we were talking about it last night as we lay in his bed together—after I definitely showed my gratitude for him putting Scott in his place—and we discussed the various zone defenses. Just thinking about last night and the wicked things we did causes me to feel a little flushed under the jersey, which was also delivered with the tickets today. And not just one for me but jerseys for Brittany and Izzy as well. Decked out in the Titans’ purple and gray, we’re all three wearing King’s name on our backs.

We settle into our seats. “This view is incredible,” Brittany says, handing napkins out to me and Izzy who sits between us.

The ice gleams under the bright arena lights and as I’ve got a mouth stuffed with hot dog, I see the Titans coming onto the ice for warm-ups. I hastily swallow and all three of us stand to cheer along with the rest of the crowd. The players skate around one half of the rink in smooth, powerful strides. My eyes cut back and forth but it’s Izzy who sees King first.

“There he is!” she screams and holds up the cardboard sign she made. In bold, colorful letters, it proclaims, “#1 King Fans.” She bounces with excitement, her eyes pinned on him.

My breath catches when King skates by and gives us all a broad smile. Izzy presses her sign to the glass and cheers as he circles around and this time, he notices it. Eyes warming and sparking a short glance my way, he comes to a crisp stop right before us. The fans to our left bang on the glass, beyond excited that one of the players is so close.

“Nice sign,” he calls out to Izzy and we can hear him over the cheers.

My niece’s face lights up with pure joy.

King looks over to where a bucket of pucks has been dumped out for them to use in warm-up drills. He issues a shrill whistle and yells, “Yo… Camden. Send me a puck.”

The player, who I recognize as Camden Poe as I’ve been studying the team roster, snaps a puck across the ice to King. He bends, picks it up and then tosses it over the glass to Izzy who catches it with a squeal of delight. “Thank you, King!” she shouts, her voice barely audible over the din of the crowd.

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