Page 53 of The Hockey Grump Saves Christmas

I mean, he probably has a different woman after every game. This was likely just a regular run-of-the-mill Monday night for him.

And it can’t mean anything anyway. We find each other annoying, and neither of us is going to be in Warm Springs for long.

So yes, Natalie, get a grip.

You wanted him. You had him. Time to put on your big girl panties along with your jeans.

“You okay?” he asks, adjusting himself and zipping up, the condom swinging from one hand.

I nod. “Usually I’d expect dinner first. But, you know…” The lightness of my tone belies the heaviness in my stomach.

“Hah. First time for everything, Bugs.”

And there we go. Clearly not the first time for him.

I pull a tissue from my pocket and pass it to him. “Here, for the…” I point at the condom.

“And you still don’t like me, right?” he says with a wink as he takes the tissue.

“Absolutely not.”

Even though he has spent the last few minutes exhibiting some incredibly likable behavior.

CHAPTER 18

GABE

I fumble the condom into the tissue, my hands unexpectedly shaking a little.

Now what am I supposed to say? Or do?

I haven’t had a one-night stand since I first got into the game and the number of attractive women that were virtually hurling themselves at me went to my head.

So I’m a little out of practice.

But is what Natalie and I just did a one-time thing?

Does she want me to ask her to dinner? Is that what her joke was hinting at?

Come to think of it that might not be so bad. Turns out the verbal sparring might be as much of a turn-on as those sounds she was just making.

And we’re not going to be here in the same place for long, so it’s not like seeing her would interfere with my game. She might even leave town first, if I’m not fit enough to play until later in the new year.

Yeah, seeing her again might be better thannot so bad. It might be actual fun.

“So, uh…” I say to her back as she adjusts her clothes.

Christ, just the sight of her ass in those jeans is getting another hard-on going already.

“It’s okay,” she says, turning just far enough for me to catch a glimpse of the side of her face. Her cheek glistens in the stage lights, but her jaw is set firm.

“What’s okay?” I try to shove the condom into my front pocket, but it’s too tight and would likely cause an unpleasant accident.

“Don’t feel you have to try to be polite or nice to me or anything,” she says, walking toward the stage without looking at me. “It’s fine.”

Does she think it would take an effort for me to be nice to her?

She’s made it clear she isn’t fond of my personality, but does she really think I’m a total asshole jerk too?

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