Page 6 of The Girl in the Hockey Jersey

“I know. And then it turns out you like tequila, too?”

“I’m the perfect guy.” Now he’s smirking. And it’s better like this. Playful banter trumps awkward honesty when you’re angling toward a one-night stand. And I’m pretty sure that is where I want the night to end.

I’ve never done this before—I’m little Miss Monogamy, with long stretches of being little Miss Celibacy—but if anyone is worth breaking all my rules for, it’s probably a guy who doesn’t mind my brittle edges.

That there’s no way he’ll ever see me again helps, too. I can be anyone I want to be tonight—and it’s not my mother’s daughter, who isn’t allowed to like hockey. It’s the girl who in the jersey who might not like players, but secretly loves the game.

Our shots arrive. Kieran doesn’t even look at the bartender. “What are we drinking to, Jersey Girl?”

“To not going to bed at midnight.”

The corner of his mouth curves up. “And a walk on the wild side?”

“Maybe.”

“All right.” He lifts his shot glass. “To the early hours of tomorrow, then.”

I laugh and we clink our shot glasses together. The tequila burns, making my eyes water, but on the other side is a delicious warmth that makes me feel like—if only for tonight—I might be the perfect girl, too.

He loosens his tie. I notice a scar on his knuckle, a little slice of white on otherwise tan skin. How much of him is equally tan, in the middle of winter?

Heat swarms through me as I imagine the tequila working its magic, getting us—me—to a point where I might find out.

He clears his throat, and I drag my gaze back to his face.

“So, were you actually cheering for us tonight?” He shifts, ghosting that scarred knuckle against the arm of my jersey. “Or is this just luck of the draw?”

“I just like the game. I don’t usually care who wins.” But tonight I guess I was cheering for them. Maybe because they’re last in their division right now. Maybe because they played some good hockey tonight. I don’t know why, exactly.

His lips tug to the corner again. “Usually, huh?”

He doesn’t miss much.

I shrug and smile. “You played well.”

“That’s high praise from Jersey Girl.”

I laugh and grab my beer. “Yeah, it is.”

“I’m glad I impressed you on the ice.” His gaze sinks into my skin like he’s planning to look at me a good, long while. The unspoken addendum is,now I plan to impress you off the ice.

He’s already doing that.

Damn him.

I keep my eyes locked on him as I take a drink. His question feels important.Were you actually cheering for us tonight?

Not many people are cheering for his team right now.

I set my glass down and swipe my thumb down the moisture condensing on the outside. Wipe that bit of wet against my other hand.Harper, what are you doing?

“I wanted you to win,” I finally admit.

His eyes glint sharply. “Well, that makes two of us.”

Chapter4

Kieran

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