Page 76 of The Risk

She sits up. “How often do people call instead of text these days?”

I have to relent. “Not very.”

“Exactly. Phone calls usually mean it’s important.” She grabs her purse from the floor mat and rummages through it. The moment she has her phone in hand, her demeanor changes. All traces of desire are gone.

“Everything okay?” I ask gruffly.

She stares at the screen for another second before clicking the phone off. “It’s nothing.” And yet now she’s shimmying into her panties and jeans, and I know without a doubt that Little Jakey won’t be getting any attention tonight.

“It’s later than I thought,” she says awkwardly. “I should head home.”

“Okay.”

She hesitates. “You don’t mind?”

“Of course not.” Did she expect me to admonish her? Accuseher of leaving me with blue balls? Because that implies that she owes me something, which she doesn’t. I’m not entitled to a damn thing from this girl, or any girl. I want Brenna to blow me because shewantsto blow me. But clearly she’s no longer in the mood. The mysterious caller ruined that for us.

“I really did have a good time,” she confesses as I walk her to the driver’s side of the Jeep.

“So did I.” I meet her eyes. “Should we do it again?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.” I grasp her chin, keeping our gazes locked. I repeat the question. “Should we do it again?”

After a long beat, Brenna nods.

19

BRENNA

BYWEDNESDAY,IHAVEN’T HEARD SO MUCH AS A PEEP FROManyone at HockeyNet. Granted, Ed Mulder didn’t say when the internship slots would be filled. I suppose it could take weeks, but I’m impatient for news.

Even though I know I didn’t impress him, a part of me is still clinging to hope that I have a shot. And fine, maybe hope is for fools. But I guess that makes me a fool.

Dad’s still at the arena when I get home after a long day on campus. The Briar boys had weight training this morning, and ice time this afternoon, so I don’t expect my father until six or seven.

I make dinner. Nothing fancy, just spaghetti and a Caesar salad. I eat my share in front of the TV, watching highlights on HockeyNet. Which is super irritating, because whoever put this clips package together didn’t include some of the best parts of last night’s Bruins game. I could do a way better job compiling a good reel. I hope I get the chance.

There I go, being foolish again.

My phone buzzes on the coffee table, revealing a text.

JAKE:Can I call you?

Oh boy. The little spark of excitement that tickles my belly isalarming. We spoke on the phone last night, too, mostly about said Bruins game, since we were watching it at the same time.

I won’t deny that our bowling date was a lot more fun than I expected. The orgasm was equally unexpected. I didn’t plan on fooling around with Jake. I thought I had more willpower than that, but the guy is irresistible. Even now, days later, I’m still thinking about it. His fingers inside me, his hot mouth glued to mine… Connelly is very good at what he does. I’d wanted nothing more than to make him feel good, too, until that phone call from Eric.

Each time I think I’ve made myself clear, that I’ve set firm boundaries with him, Eric reveals another level of persistence. And I don’t feel right being a bitch to him, ordering him to leave me alone, because our history holds me hostage.

History is bullshit.

Jake’s words, the thoughts he’d expressed at O’Malley’s, float through my head. History is bullshit. And trust me, I would love to put the past behind me. Unfortunately, that’s easier said than done.

At least this time Eric wasn’t making demands of me—he followed the call up with a text, apologizing for asking for money. But that doesn’t matter. It killed the mood as effectively as rain snuffing out a candle.

On the other hand, I’d been seconds away from having Jake’s dick in my mouth, so maybe Eric did me a favor. Saved me from blowing THE ENEMY.

---