Page 63 of Her Greatest Mistake

“I haven’t lost anything yet.” She lifts her chin stubbornly.

“Then, by all means. Let’s go.” I shake my arm and flick my eyes down to it before returning them to her just in time to catch her half-hearted glare. “You know what, just because I’m so nice, I’ll even take care of your brutalized feet afterward. How does that sound?”

“Like you deserve a smack across the head.”

“Harsh, baby girl.”

She takes my arm, digging her nails into it just enough to have me hissing a rough laugh.

“There’s that name again,” she scolds.

“I’m as stubborn as a mule.”

She shakes her head as I take her hand, softly lacing our fingers before we start down the street. We veer out of the small, quiet business complex where the clinic is located and onto the busy sidewalk. It’s all hustle and bustle as bodies swarm the streets, and suddenly, I wish I had grabbed a hat or something on my way over.

“Do you even know what time it is?” she asks.

“They’ll find us another table if we’ve lost ours when we get there. Don’t worry about the reservation.”

She nods. “The perks of being famous. How could I forget?”

I look down at her and smile. Her snark is welcomed. I missed it.

“It comes with its disadvantages,” I say.

She hums. “Right. Like the underwear bandit who posted pictures of your intimates on social media?”

“That’s right. It was a few years ago, though. I don’t let people I don’t know into my space anymore.”

A dramatic gasp. “But then how do you meet women? I doubt you’re on Tinder.”

“Easy. I don’t.”

“What do you mean you don’t? Come on, don’t lie to me.”

I shrug. “No, really. There isn’t anyone that’s going to cause any problems with the plan, if that’s why you’re asking. I don’t date. I haven’t in a long time.”

Of course, I don’t plan on telling her why I haven’t dated since the disaster with Rory three years ago, but she has other plans.

“Why not? I thought that once you were in the league, you would try to make up for lost time. You never dated anyone before you were drafted.”

We come to a stop behind a crowd of people waiting at a crosswalk, and I step up behind her, so close I can smell her coconut shampoo. Pulling our joined hands behind her, I press them to her back and lean in, lowering my voice.

“It’s hard to date when the only woman you want, you can’t have.”

She sucks in a sharp breath as the stick man blinks across the street. I move back to her side and pull her across my body, taking the outside of the sidewalk while smiling at a few people who are looking at me as if they know who I am.

It’s almost comical how stunned I’ve made her over the past half an hour. Her mind has to be spinning like a mouse on a wheel at this point.

“Hockey has been my focus, anyway. It’s life consuming. Especially right now with playoffs. I dated one girl a few years back, but I was an awful boyfriend. Didn’t give her the time or attention she needed.”

“That’s sad but also understandable. I remember how busy you were when we were just teenagers. I can’t imagine your schedule now,” she says.

“It keeps me on my toes, but I think I just didn’t want to put the effort into the relationship either. Couldn’t see myself with her long term. I don’t think I would have a problem giving my all to someone if I could see a future, you know?”Like I do with you.

She looks up at me and smiles sheepishly. “Yeah, I know. I dated in university, but it wasn’t anything life changing either.”

I hear a record scratch in my ears as my mind halts, snagged on the wordsI dated. Who did she date? And why does the thought of her in another man’s arms have my blood starting to simmer?

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