Page 98 of Keeper
I blinked at him. “Are you trying to tell me something?”
“Yeah, I want to be your boyfriend,” he said confidently. “Will you be my girlfriend?”
I waited for the elevator doors to close before I gave him my answer.
33
Tanner
My heart pounded in my chest while I waited for her answer. Every second crawled past, lasting its own eternity. Why hadn’t she said anything? I thought she’d sayyes, but now I wasn’t so sure.
The elevator doors slowly shut, and it was then that Ainsley practically leaped into my arms.
“Of course I’ll be your girlfriend!” she squealed as I caught her.
Ainsley was weightless in my arms as our lips melded and the elevator plummeted down to the lobby. The doors opened with adingand we emerged, holding hands, smiling and laughing like a couple of love-struck teenagers as we hurried through the lobby and out the front door.
“You scared me for a second there,” I said, a hand on my racing heart. “I thought you were gonna turn me down.”
“Not achance.”
My car was waiting just outside. I opened the door and helped her in.
“So, uh,” I began as I lowered myself into the driver’s seat and fired the engine. “I guess now’s the time to warn you about my teammates. Just so you know what you’re getting into ahead of time.”
She laughed. “What happened? Earlier, you said they were great.”
“And theyare. But they’re also—y’know. A mix of characters, let’s say. I just don’t want you to be caught by surprise.”
“By what?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want them to scare you off.”
“They couldn’t. How would they do that?”
“The thing about hockey players is we like to bust each other balls.” I paused. “All I’m saying is, don’t be shocked if someone calls you Cinderella. I know—it’s corny as fuck. But right now, uh, that’s your locker room nickname.”
She giggled. “Wait,what?”
“I told the guys about you—you know that.”
“I knew they were making Cinderella jokes, yes,” she said. “But I didn’t realize I had my very own locker room nickname.”
“Yup. Sorry to say.”
“That’s hilarious.” She shook her head and sighed happily. “So what’s your locker room nickname?”
“Vaughnsy,” I said.
“Vaughnsy,” she repeated, her face pinched with distaste. “That’s not very creative. And who are you supposed to be? A gangster from the twenties?”
I chuckled. “Hockey nicknames aren’t the most creative. Usually, we just add a Y, an R, or an S after someone’s name.”
“Okay, so what would my nickname be if it weren’t Cinderella?”
“Ainz or Ainzer, depending on which one caught on first.”
“Ainzer.” She tittered. “You boys are funny.”
