Page 87 of Face Off
“Mind reading,” he says around a strangled exhale. “So I could know how much you like my cock.”
“I hate it,” I say, and his laugh is low. Sexy and infuriating. “Worst I’ve ever seen.”
“Thought so.” He cups my cheek and smiles. I don’t pull away. “What’s your question, Red?”
“When is your birthday?”
“June fifteenth. When is yours?”
“August sixth.”
“So you’re a?—”
“Everything okay over here?” Hudson asks from behind us, and we spring apart.
“Yeah,” Maverick answers, almost falling over as he steps away from me. “All good.”
“Who’s winning?”
“We haven’t gotten very far,” I say. “I like to take my time and make sure I’m getting the best shot.”
“Same,” Maverick agrees, and he glances at me. “Being thorough is the only way to do it.”
Hudson looks between us and frowns. “What am I missing?”
“Not a thing, man.” Maverick clasps his shoulder and walks backwards away from us. “I’m going to hit the restroom. Anyone need anything?”
“Nope,” I say, and he disappears.
“You two seem like you’re getting along,” Hudson says. “Are you friends now or something?”
I drag my thumb along my cheek, the spot where Maverick just touched. “Or something.”
TWENTY-FOUR
EMMY
Our luck has turned around.
After beating St. Louis at home last week, we went on to defeat Calgary and Minnesota.
I scored my first goal in a Stars jersey, and it seems like we’ve gotten over the slump we had fallen into.
We have a game against Boston tomorrow afternoon, and while the rest of the team is planning to head to the Seaport for dinner, I’m opting for a night in at the hotel to recharge.
“You’re not coming?” Piper asks over speakerphone as I scan the menu sitting on the desk in my room. “Lexi agreed to come out, and that girlneverhangs out when the boys are around.”
“Sorry, Piper. I need to shower and stretch, and with an early puck drop tomorrow, I want to catch up on sleep.”
“Fine.” She laughs at something on the other end of the line. “Text me if you need me, Emmy.”
We hang up, and before I can toss my phone on the pillows and power down for the night, it lights up with a text message.
Bane of my Existence:
No dinner?
Me
