Page 28 of Play Your Part

This man.

“Oh, I’ve seen you play,” I said, locking eyes with him, projecting what I hoped he would see as confidence. “And I’ve seen better. In fact, I’vedatedbetter.”

I kept my eyes on him while I sipped my drink. Alexei’s nostrils flared, and his hand on the table spasmed nearly into a fist before reopening.

For the rest of lunch, we remained silent.

12

ALEXEI

Kennedyopenedthepassengerdoor of my car as soon as I parked. “Seriously?” she said as she sunk into the passenger seat. “Is this your big first-date move?”

“Oh, she speaks,” I muttered as I leaned forward to slip my wallet into the glove box.

Kennedy scoffed. “I could say the same to you. Don’t change the subject.”

The silence had started after I cracked that joke about betting on whether Kennedy would sleep with me. I hadn’t planned on saying it, but something about her insistence that I would never have sex with her got under my skin. My entire career was about making the impossible possible. The odds of me making it to the NHL were shit. Getting drafted late in the second round hadn’t made anyone believe I would become one of the best players in the league.

But I didn’t let any commentary get to me. I kept my head down, worked hard, and proved everyone wrong.

It wasn’t like that with Kennedy though. I didn’twantto sleep with her. Okay, that was a damn lie. Iwouldn’tsleep with her. I didn’t need the complication. But I hated the way she looked around the restaurant, ignoring me, as if she would rather be anywhere else.

And she made it too damn fun to get under her skin.

“You think I would waste a big move on you? You’re a sure thing.”

Kennedy opened her mouth, no doubt to say something scathing, but I finished my thought before she could.

“Metaphorically speaking.”

The tension in her shoulders deflated when she realized I didn’t mean it. “It’s a wasted opportunity,” she said. “You could show me your best, and I could give you feedback.”

“Show you my best and make you want me?” I flashed her my most charming smile. “I don’t think so. This situation is awkward enough without adding letting you down easily to the list.”

“I will never want you.” Kennedy echoed her words from earlier—“You will have me in your fucking dreams. And nowhere else. Not now, not ever.”—in case they hadn’t been clear. “Hope that doesn’t bruise too hard.”

“No, but if it did, it wouldn’t be difficult to find someone to kiss it and make it better,” I said, opening my door. “Not everyone finds me as repulsive as you do.”

A fact that bothered me to no end and that I tried not to dwell on.

I wished it were only an ego thing. I told myself it was… but it washer. Those brown eyes that always seemed to snag my attention looked especially big tonight. She wore her hair down in curls around her shoulders. Her shirt hadn’t left much to the imagination with the way it hugged her curves and exposed a hint of cleavage, and she’d paired it with simple dark-wash jeans that got anything but a simple reaction from me when she turned around.

“We’re not playing hockey,” I said after Kennedy caught up to me as I approached the rink where our team practiced. This venue was public, which was the genius of choosing it. People—youth hockey players and their parents—would see Kennedy and me together, and the odds of someone taking a photo and sharing it online were high.

“Then, what are we doing?”

The commotion created by my entrance drowned out my answer. Players and parents leaving practice rushed toward me. She hung back as I signed autographs and took pictures. The smiles I offered were nothing but genuine. After being dropped by my last team, I didn’t know if I would have this again—fans clamoring for my attention, a community happy to have me as part of their team. Even if I had no interest in relocating to Palmer City permanently, this support would never get old; I’d experienced how quickly it could disappear.

When I looked up from my last autograph, I saw Kennedy chatting with a couple of women. I was familiar with her scowl, one she would hate to hear I found cute. But this smile—not directed at me, of course—full of unabashed joy, it decimated me.

This is fake. This is fake. This is fake.

Kennedy Cole wanted nothing to do with me. Hell, I shouldn’t want anything to do with her either—the ex-girlfriend of my enemy, the daughter of the man who paid my salary. But I couldn’t wrench my gaze off her face.

She said her goodbyes as soon as I caught her eye and motioned for her to follow me. We waved to the remaining crowd and headed toward the rink. I didn’t need to look behind me to know many of them would hang around to watch us.

“What did they want?” I asked as we walked through the door toward the ice, out of earshot of everyone.

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