Page 35 of Face Off
“Oh, honey.” Maven reaches across the table and squeezes her hand. “There are so many better men out there.”
“Hear, hear.” Lexi lifts her drink. “What about Liam? You know what they say about goalies.”
“What do they say about goalies?” I ask.
“Something about being flexible and passionate and neurotic. I feel like he’d be dedicated to the point of obsession. He’d lay you out naked and mark your body with a Sharpie so he knows where you like to be touched.”
“Okay, but that sounds hot as hell.” Maven giggles. “A road map to orgasms.”
“No one’s ever been obsessed with me,” Piper says.
“It’s worth the wait,” Maven says. “Trust me.”
“Who would you pick, Emmy? Hottest guy on the team?”
“I’d like to be exempt from this question. I’ve seen these dudes when they have bloody noses and smell like roadkill.”
“Maverick, though.” Lexi sighs. “Youhaveto think Maverick is hot.”
“The tattoos?” Piper asks.
“His height?” Maven adds.
“I’ve heard he’s arealladies’ man in bed. Totally selfless. I ran into a woman in the elevator leaving our hotel at an awaygame last year, and she said he made her come five times in one night,” Lexi says.
My face burns. I wish my glass wasn’t empty, because I’m going to need something sinfully strong to get through this conversation.
“Is five times even humanly possible?” I ask. “That sounds like an exaggeration. Are you sure he didn’t start that rumor himself?”
“When you’re with the right guy, anything is possible,” Maven says. “Five times. Six times. I’m not sure there’s a limit.”
“Miller is…” I hum and trace the rim of my glass with my fingers.
I’m stalling, because I don’t know what the hell he is.
Heishot.
Gorgeous and strong and an incredible athlete. An absolute pest who won’t go away, but I can’t help but be curious who he is behind closed doors.
Large hands that could rest on my thighs and nudge them open. A firm chest to lean against as he slipped a long finger inside me and a boyish laugh when I shuddered against him. Gentle encouragement and praise.
“You gonna finish that sentence, Red, or just leave me hanging?” a deep voice asks.
I whip my head to the right.
There’s Maverick Miller, holding three beers in one of his hands and grinning at me.
TWELVE
MAVERICK
I spottedHartwell the second the girls walked in.
That hair is hard to miss, and I think even in a crowd, I’d be able to pick her out. She’s impossible to ignore and goddamn sexy in her tight jeans and that cropped tank top showing off her shoulders.
Our table is on the opposite side of the restaurant, but I’ve been watching her.
Studying her like I do my opponents; the way she swirls her drink around before she takes a sip. The laughter that’s half a beat late, like she’s not sure she’s allowed to find the conversation funny. How her teeth sink into her bottom lip.
