Page 45 of Hot for the Hockey Player
Ah.
“Maybe he just wants to check in with you.See how you felt the meeting went.I don’t think he’s upset with you.Maverick doesn’t seem like the type.Text him.Best way to know for sure is to just rip off the Band-Aid and find out.”
Exhaling in anticipated defeat, Damon brought out his phone and shot off a message to Maverick.Maverick’s reply was almost instant.“He’ll be here in twenty,” Damon said.“Can I invite him for dinner again?”
Shit.
I was planning to go visit Danica while he was here.But if Maverick stayed for dinner, I couldn’t avoid him.
But my son came first, so I bobbed my head.“Sure.”
Damon got up from the table, a bit more of a bounce in his step than when he’d arrived, and he retreated to his room.I went to the bathroom to check on my hair and makeup, like a twitterpated teen, and chastised myself every second I primped and plucked.
The knock at the door shouldn’t have made me jump, but it did.
Not only that, but my whole body went up at least three degrees and sweat broke out between my breasts.
Definitely a hot flash.This was not normal.
This was more than just sexual attraction.
It was also too close to dinner at this point for me to go over to Danica or Naomi’s and avoid Maverick.
Fuck.My.Life.
I checked myself one more time in the bathroom mirror, rolled my eyes and exited, holding my head high, and maybe pushing my chest out just a little bit as I rounded the corner from the hallway into the dining room and living room.
Maverick’s blue eyes lit up when he saw me.“Hey!”
I shoved on a smile.“Hey.”
His brows wrinkled.“Did I see you at the grocery store today?I called to you, but …”
I lifted both shoulders and channeled my inner ditz, giving my head a little shake.“Oh really?I was there, but I didn’t hear you.Sorry.”
“Then I came by the house and knocked.Called out your name.But there was no answer.”
“Oh!”Another big, fake smile.“I often listen to a podcast or music when I’m working.I had my headphones in.”
Laurel and Damon both gave me a weird look.“No you don’t,” Laurel said.“You do when you’re cooking but not when you’re working.You say it muddles your brain so you can’t type as fast.”
I glanced at her, then chuckled, heading into the kitchen.“Well, I did today.”
Maverick didn’t seem convinced.If anything, he appeared hurt.
Crap.
I cleared my throat.“I, uh … I heard you went to Damon’s school today.That was really kind of you.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets as a flush of color raced up from under the collar of his long-sleeve black Henley.“Yeah.He asked, so …”
“Well,” I glanced at my son, who also seemed to be blushing, “I know he appreciated it.”
Damon shot me a look that clearly said, “Mom, shut up.”
“I’m going to go finish up some work in my office.Would you like to stay for dinner?”I needed to keep things as platonic and professional as I possibly could.Which meant proper English, full sentences, and the air of authority I’d perfected since leaving my husband, firmly lodged between Maverick and me.
“Uh … if that’s all right?”He scratched the back of his neck.“I feel bad.I’m eating all your food.You’ll have to let me buy y’all dinner soon.Order pizza or something.I heard the pizza place here on the island is really good.”
