Page 62 of Burner Account

And apparently I’d been staring at him for a long moment, because he met my gaze and furrowed his brow. “What?”

“Oh. Uh.” I shook myself, heat rushing into my face. “Sorry. Just…” Hell. Why not tell him the truth? Heart pounding for some reason, I took his hand again. “It’s just wild, listening to you in person talking exactly like you did online.”

The furrows deepened.

I looked down at our hands. “I guess sometimes it still catches me by surprise. Some people are genuine online, but there’s always something different in real life, you now?” Meeting his gaze through my lashes, I whispered, “But you’ve been you from day one.”

He ran his thumb alongside mine. “Is that a good thing?”

I couldn’t help the laugh, and I reached up to touch his face. “It’s a very good thing.”

He was smiling too when our lips met, and we sank into a long, lazy kiss. Not one that would lead to anything—not even if my body would’ve cooperated tonight—just a gentle one that felt a million times better than our conversation had.

When I broke the kiss, I stroked his cheek with my thumb. “We’ve still got some time before the pregame comes on. Want to put the phones aside and hang out with me while I make something to munch on during the game?”

The way his face lit up was adorable, and it was also a relief after that tough conversation. “Ooh,you’regoing to cook?”

Chuckling, I rolled my eyes. “Don’t get your hopes up too high.” I squeezed his leg, then gingerly pushed to my feet. “I was just going to throw some fries in the air fryer.”

Isaiah’s knee popped as he got up, too. “That’s what I eat at games half the time, so… perfect.”

Fortunately, that was all it took to reclaim the evening’s chill vibe. We left our phones in the living room, and Isaiah showed me how to make an amazing homemade thousand island for dipping sauce.

“I don’t eat enough of it to justify buying it bottled,” he explained. “It just ends up going bad. But I always have mayo, ketchup, and relish around, so…”

One taste, and I was pretty sure I’d never dip a fry in anything else ever again. It was simple, but it tasted so damn good.

With our fries, a couple small bowls of the sauce, and a beer apiece, we settled into the living room again just in time for the pregame show.

And we left our phones dark for the rest of the night.

Chapter 19

Isaiah

“You ever thoughtabout switching to decaf?” Darren asked as we headed out of the arena. “You’ve been twitchy as fuck all night.”

“I’m good.” I kept my gaze fixed on the crowd moving slowly toward the doors ahead of us.

“Sureyou are.”

I didn’t respond. Yeah, he was on to something. It was hard not to be restless when I was watching a Pittsburgh Yellow Jackets game, and my gaze kept snagging on a player and my brain kept skidding to a halt because, oh, hell, that player was my boyfriend. When it was just me and Tanner, it was just… me and Tanner. But when he was on the ice, dressed in black-and-gold with the number 17 on his back belowJEFFRIES, he was Tanner Jeffries the hockey player.AndTanner my boyfriend.

I had no idea how long it was going to take for me to wrap my head around that. Only that as of tonight, I definitely hadn’t.

We finally made it through the bottleneck and out into the crisp night, and I took in a deep breath of cool air. It was chilly inside near the ice, but the slog from our seats out of the arena was always stuffy thanks to the throngs of people.

It wasn’tthatcold out here, though—not this time of year—and now that we were outside, I took off my jacket and peeled off my jersey. Darren did the same. It was way too warm tonight for that many layers.

The crowd broke apart, with people fanning out in different directions toward the various parking lots, some local sports bars, or the T station so they could catch the subway. Darren and I followed a crowd across the street, then strode together toward where we’d parked a block or so away.

Now that we had some space between us and everyone else, Darren said, “I’m surprised you’re not going down to the locker room.” He elbowed me playfully. “Your man isn’t getting you a pass into the wives’ and girlfriends’ suite?”

I forced a laugh and shook my head. “Nah. They sit up too high. I’d rather be down by the ice.”

“Eh, can’t blame you. But you don’t go see him after the game?”

“Not here, no. He’s just showering and eating.”

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