Page 70 of Hot for the Hockey Player
“It’s all of those things,” I finally said in exasperation.“Which clearly means, me going over there tonight, or pursuing this ridiculous May-Decemberfling—because it would be afling—is a terrible idea.”
They exchanged looks like I was once again being an idiot.
“That’s a lot of protesting.”Naomi grabbed another cookie.“When we all know you’re going to go.”
I bunched my fists and plunked them on my hips.“No.I’m not.”
“You don’thaveto spread your legs for him.But you should at least goseeif there’s more to the kiss than it just being a kiss.Maybe he didn’t feel anything.Maybe he sees you as more of a mother figure and needs you to mend a hole in his trousers, instead of stroke the serpent under them.”Raina’s eyes bugged out in a teasing way as she took another gingerly sip.
“Now that she’s getting it on the regular, she’s got the mind of a pervert,” I said, appealing to the other two.
Naomi shrugged.“I would too.”
I went to the fridge and grabbed the jar of homemade pesto from the freezer, then pulled the chicken breasts I bought from the island butcher out of the fridge.“Are you staying for dinner, or what?”
The three of them had identical lip twitches as they struggled not to smile.
“Yes, please,” they all finally said, with cunning gleams in all their eyes.I already knew this discussion was far from over and that one-on-one I could easily win an argument against them.Together, I was outnumbered, and come hell or high water, those three would get me to Maverick’s.Even if they had to hog-tie me and throw me in the back of Raina’s car.
Little did they know, I planned to persist enough that it might come to that.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Gabrielle
Well,theydidn’thaveto hog-tie me, or bust out the chloroform, but it took a harsh shove from Raina for me to actually get out the door.Then, so I didn’t chicken out, she followed me to the McEvoy’s property since she planned to spend the night at Jagger’s anyway, and Marco was there already.
She shot me a text as she turned right to head up the hill to the houses, and I was headed straight, to the cabins.
You’ve got this.I put a condom in your purse just in case.Xox
I sent her back a middle finger emoji as my SUV rolled past the pub parking lot.A few vehicles sat in the gravel, getting damp from the rain, but since it was a dreary Monday night in March, it made sense that the place wasn’t bumping.
Spotting Maverick’s rental pickup ahead told me which cabin was his.Though, by the looks of things, only one other cabin was occupied anyway—another con of being a seasonal business.
Light filtered out around the closed drapes and the porch lamp glowed a soft yellow.
Even though I had no intention of having sex with Maverick tonight, Ididput on a fresh pair of underwear, if not for the sole purpose of making me feel just a bit more confident.They were my “big girl panties” so to speak.Nothing fancy.Just practical, breathable—made of cotton—and with a pretty, pink floral pattern on a gray background.They didn’t scream “take me, big boy”.Because that was not what I was going for here.
I sat in my car for what felt like hours, but was probably no more than three minutes, watching the raindrops illuminated by my headlights turn into no more than a gentle, continuous mist.
Why was I even here?
So what if we kissed?People kissed all the time and it never amounted to anything.We needed to just agree that it was a bad idea, agree that we wouldn’t do it again, and agree to be friends.
With a nod of conviction, I pulled my hood over my head, turned off the ignition, and climbed out.
Butterflies flew around like drunk fools in my belly as I approached his door.
Get it together, Campbell.You’ve faced and taken down more opposing, more formidable opponents than this.And he’s not even your opponent.Pull up those panties, get them out of your ass crack, and knock on the fucking door.
Exhaling through thinly parted lips, I smoothed my hands down the front of my loose, navy-blue trousers, lifted my fist, and knocked.
I waited for him to hear me.For footsteps, or shuffling, or some indication of life on the other side of the door—nothing.
I knocked again.
Still nothing.
