Page 33 of Play Your Part

“I’m on my way to work,” I said, stepping onto the porch beside him and pulling the door shut behind me. Barely six thirty in the morning and the sun already felt oppressive, making me regret slipping on a sweater. I couldn’t wait for actual fall weather.

“I know.” Alexei ran a hand through his unruly hair. His accent sounded thick this morning, maybe because he wasn’t fully awake. “Can I drive with you? I’ll Uber back.”

As if I could say no tothisAlexei Volkov with mussed hair, carrying my favorite baked goods, sounding unfairly hot with his accent.

“Um, sure,” I said, hiking my bag onto my shoulder as I headed to the car parked in front of the house. Alexei followed wordlessly, giving me time to brace myself for our conversation.

When I started the car, Alexei turned to me. “We’ve got twelve weeks together.”

“Someone’s got a countdown going,” I muttered, pulling away from the curb.

Alexei laughed. “As if you don’t, Cole. And maybe you could let me get this out before you come at me.” His tone offset his words, more joking than serious, though he meant what he said. I motioned a circle with one hand, urging him to continue. “These last two weeks have been exhausting. A month ago, I didn’t know if I would even be playing this season. And now I’m here, and management has made it clear I can’t screw up. This year is my shot, Kennedy. I’ve worked harder than I ever have, and it might mean nothing because of some stupid photo.”

I glanced over at him as I came to a stop at a light. He looked more serious than I had ever seen him, and it felt different from all those times when he’d fixed me with a stare I couldn’t read. Because, for once, I could read every single emotion on his face—in the visible circles under his eyes, the tightness in his jaw, the downturn of his lips. He projected his worry as an aura, something I couldn’tnotpick up on. Was it because he wanted me to? Or had his stress caused him to drop the mask, allowing me to seehimfor the first time?

“I have enough to worry about with the hockey.” He ran his hand through his hair again. “I can’t worry about this too.”

“I’ve gotta say, I’m not exactly feeling like our relationship is a priority for you.” I cracked a smile, hoping to lighten the mood, but Alexei’s expression didn’t change. “Not in a joking mood. Got it. Well, I don’t know why you’re worried about this. I’m going to see it through, even if you were a gigantic prick the other night.”

“And you were a perfect angel?”

“I only responded to what you put down.”

“What about all your little barbs? You never miss.”

I winced, but then I remembered what he said at lunch. “You tried to bet me about whether we’d have sex.”

Alexei threw his hands in the air before smacking them against his thighs. “It was a joke.”

“Kind of a fucked-up thing to joke about, don’t you think?”

“You… this”—Alexei gestured between us—”throws me off my game.”

I paused a moment, gliding to another stop at a stop sign. “You don’t seem off your game,” I said after analyzing his expression to determine the sincerity of his words.

“Well, I am.” He looked like he wanted to snatch back the words, which, ironically, was what I needed to know I could trust him.

“You pressed on something I don’t want to talk about. Maybe I lashed out a little,” I said.

I pulled onto the McIntyres’ street but eased the car to a stop several houses away so we could finish this conversation. If the kids saw my car in the driveway, they would sprint outside and lose their minds over finding Alexei with me. As much as I wanted to end this conversation, something tugged at my chest at seeing him so disheveled.

I put the car in park and turned toward him.

Alexei sighed, tension deflating from his posture like a popped balloon. “You did too.”

“Easy solution then,” I said. “We stop asking each other questions.”

“We have to talk to each other, Kennedy. We’re… dating.”

“What if we develop a list of safe topics and others that are off-limits?”

“Safe topics?” he prompted before running his fingers over his chin, covered in dark stubble, as always.

“You know, like conversation starters. That way, we don’t accidentally step on landmines.”Or on purpose now we know each other’s weak spots.

He nodded several times as he said, “I think that could work.”

Finkinstead ofthink.Why, oh why did his accent have to charm me?

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