Page 162 of Hat Trick

“No. It didn’t feel right to talk about teams other than the Stars. I’m a biased fangirl through and through.” She smiles at me over her shoulder. “We are going to make the playoffs though. I can feel it.”

“I hope we do. The boys have been playing hard and putting in the work. Starting at the bottom of the Eastern conference but having the best record since the All-Star break is the momentum we—they—need heading into the last ten games of the season.”

“And you’ll be there coaching them.” Lexi drops the flowers in the vase and arranges them in a neat order that doesn’t look any different from before. “Am I dressed okay for tonight? I didn’t want to be too fancy or too casual, and?—”

“You look perfect.” I stand and walk toward her so I can drop a kiss on her forehead. She wraps her arms around my waist and rests her head on my chest, and this,thisis perfection to me: her in my hold, touching her anywhere I can reach. Listening to her let out a content sigh that tells me she likes it too. “You don’t need to change a thing.”

“Okay.” I feel her smile against my hoodie, then she tugs on the drawstrings. “The chances are high I’m going to be stealing this sweatshirt from you too, Mitchell.”

“Maybe getting you out of your clothes and into mine was my plan all along.”

“You’re sneaky.” She kisses my jaw and pulls away, grabbing a purse and slinging it over her shoulder. “I’m ready for you to woo me on my first date ever.”

“Get ready, Armstrong. I’m going to date your ass off.”

* * *

Two hours,a large pizza, and a couple of drinks later, we’re side by side in front of a pool table at an arcade. The lighting is dim. The music is tolerable, and when Lexi grabs a cue and leans against it with a raised eyebrow, I give her a sheepish grin.

“Yes?” I ask.

“I’m surprised,” she says. “You’re a romantic guy. I was expecting something fancy and over the top. Book boyfriend level with a boombox on your shoulder and some groveling.”

I spent hours trying to figure out where to take her, and everything I came up with didn’t feel likeher. Dinner at a restaurant on top of a hotel overlooking the city seemed too cheesy. Wandering around the museums after hours seemed too much like I was avoiding having a conversation with her. A black-tie fundraising event seemed like it would be boring as hell.

So, I decided to take her to do the things we’d do even if thiswasn’ta date. Dinner at a casual restaurant where we tried to make the most ridiculous pizza in existence before our walk to an underground arcade. And the night is young. There’s plenty more on the agenda, but kicking her ass in pool is a good break in the action.

“You’re a date virgin,” I say. “I’m easing you into it. Being gentle, you know?”

“You’re doing so good,” she purrs, and I deserve a goddamn medal for not getting hard from her silky, smooth voice. “It’s cute you think you’re better than me at pool.”

“You play?” I rack up the balls and grab my own cue. “I’m surprised.”

“It’s like you don’t know me at all. Being good at things men think they’re superior in is my quest in life.”

“Care to make a bet?”

“You have my attention.” Lexi leans over the edge of the table, and I’m distracted by her hand running over the felt, thinking about how much I’d like to pin her palms in place and fuck her until she screams my name. “What did you have in mind?”

I blink and clear my throat. “Another thing on my Life List.” I step closer to her and slide a hand over her waist. Her sharp inhale tells me she’s probably fantasizing about the same things I am, and I’m glad we’re tucked away in a spot where no one can see us. “Tattoos.”

“Are you going to put my name in a heart on your arm?” she teases.

“I was thinking more along the lines of the winner gets to pick what the loser puts on their body.”

“Oh, those are some interesting stakes.” She turns her head, a smirk pulling at her mouth. “Stipulations?”

“Nothing profane or vulgar. It has to be small—nothing bigger than a silver dollar coin. If it’s something the loser really doesn’t want, they’re allowed a veto.”

“Deal.” Lexi sticks out her hand, and I shake it. “You’re going down, Mitchell.”

I let her break, and she sinks two stripes right off the bat. My first two turns result in not pocketing a damn thing, and I’m afraid I’m going to eat my words. Lexi tries to distract me by wiggling her ass and pulling her hair up in a high ponytail so I can see the line of her neck, but I persevere. I make six shots in a row and take the lead, laughing when she crosses her arms over her chest and pouts.

“Something wrong, Lexi baby?”

“I don’t like losing. But I hate it even more when someone lets me win.” She lines up a shot and misses knocking in her ball by a hair. “I’m kicking myself for being so cocky.”

“Not everyone can be a winner.” I sink my last ball in a corner pocket and point to the eight ball. “I’m trying for the left side pocket.”

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