Playing Defense (A Dallas Demons Hockey Romance) Read online

  “Ladies first,” JP says, interrupting my thoughts.

  “Right,” I say, picking up my ball.

  I go to the lane and try to remember everything I know about bowling. I know how to line up with the marks on the floor and when to release the ball.

  “Come on, Selina Kyle!” JP yells out.

  I turn and look over my shoulder, winking at him. “Catwoman has this.”

  Then I begin my approach. Shit! My muscles fight back in my arm, and before I can time my release correctly, I pull back and the ball goes sailing out of my hand, winging its way across our lane as I land smack on my ass.

  Boom! The ball not only bounces over our gutter but sails into the next lane, where if mercifully comes to a stop in their gutter.

  Oh.my.God.

  I’m so going to be on YouTube’s collection of epic bowling fails.

  Everyone is laughing, and I mean, dying, and I should be mortified to face JP, but I’m not. I’m laughing so hard I’m crying, even though my butt is now killing me.

  “Reese?” JP asks, coming up to me. “Are you okay?”

  I see nothing but concern in his eyes.

  “My ball is . . . is . . . over there,” I say, convulsing into hysterical giggles.

  JP loses it. He extends his hand to me and I take it, and we’re both laughing so hard we’re practically doubled over.

  “I’ll go get it,” JP says, barely able to get the words out.

  The people from the next lane are still laughing at me, and I wave over at them. JP gallantly retrieves my bowling ball, and as soon as he comes back, Matt grins at me.

  “We’ll mark that down as a zero,” he says.

  And we all lose it again.

  “Stop, stop,” I say, wiping the tears away. “I have to bowl again.”

  “Do we need to warn our alley neighbors?” JP asks. “A duck and cover kind of alert?”

  “Bruce Wayne, you can shut up now,” I say, taking my ball from him. “I’m going to ace this.”

  I take a breath and go back to my spot. Now my tailbone is screaming at me, but I fight through it and release the ball.

  Straight into the gutter.

  “Hey, you’re improving, this time it’s our gutter,” Matt says gleefully.

  “Stop it,” Holly says, but I can see she’s desperately trying not to laugh as she scolds Matt.

  I’m laughing the entire time I head back to the table. JP stands up and opens his arm to me, enveloping me in a huge hug.

  “It’s all right, Selina Kyle,” JP says, rubbing his hand affectionately on my back. “Bruce Wayne has this next frame.”

  Then he lowers his head to my ear. “Do you know what is great about you? You can laugh at yourself. It’s incredibly attractive, Catwoman.”

  My heart slams against my ribs. The warmth from JP’s arms mixes with the warmth of his words. I’m not laughing now.

  As he steps back and lets me go, all I can hope is that somehow I find my way back into his arms again before the end of the night.

  Chapter 7

  Seventy-five.

  I study my pathetic score on the screen and inwardly groan. Team Selina and Bruce went down in flames, thanks to my hideous bowling skills.

  I have so many lowlights it’s hard to register them all. Of course, falling flat on my ass gets the gold star, but having the kids in the lane next ask me if I needed some bowling tips was a strong second. Oh, and the fact that they paused their game to watch the “lady who fell on her butt” every time it was my turn to bowl is another stellar gem.

  JP stands next to me and puts his arm across the tops of my shoulders.

  “You know what?” he asks. “Split happens.”

  I burst out laughing at his bowling joke, and he joins me.

  “Split happens,” I repeat, and then I lose it all over again.

  “Victory is ours,” Matt yells.

  JP turns around. “Victory was yours from the first frame.”

  “Hey!” I cry. “You didn’t know that.”

  JP gives me the oh, please look.

  “With certainty,” I follow up.

  “I knew the second Holly got a strike with her grandma bowl we were going to be torched,” JP says.

  Matt snaps a picture of the scoreboards with his iPhone. “I knew I should have ordered more food.”

  “Shut up,” JP teases.

  The server appears with a bill folder. “I’ll leave this here,” she says, moving to put it on the table.

  “No, here,” JP says, reaching into his wallet and handing her his credit card.

  “Thank you, I’ll be right back,” she says.

  I notice Holly is typing on her phone, and my phone vibrates on the table. I swipe it and see she’s sent me a text:

  Look at the first comment underneath the pic:

  I see Matt has posted his pic to Instagram, along with another of JP hugging me underneath our scoreboard. He tagged me and JP with this hashtag: #splithappens.

  I read the first comment:

  CiCiHunter: I see someone has finally noticed The Swiss One

  Gah! CiCi Hunter is the girlfriend of Dallas Demons’ owner Peter Deveraux. She’s also the mother of Nate Johansson’s fiancée, Kenley Hunter. Holly affectionately calls her “my Dallas mom.”

  Now she’s pointed out to the world my interest in The Swiss One.

  I pray JP doesn’t see the comment.

  Why is it I can fall flat on my ass in front of JP and not care, but the idea of him knowing I’m interested, even when it’s obvious, scares me?

  I need a therapist.

  “The Swiss One,” Matt says, interrupting my thoughts. “JP, CiCi has coined you The Swiss One. You just wait, you’ll be coming to lunches during the season with me now.”

  “What?” JP asks, wrinkling his brow. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m The Blond One,” Matt explains. “When CiCi gives you a name, you become one of her interests.”

  “Where are you getting this?” JP asks.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  “I might have put something up on Instagram,” Matt says casually.

  “If you called me a loser, I’ll check your ass on the ice tomorrow,” JP teases as he picks up his phone.

  I cringe as JP taps the Instagram icon on his phone.

  I wonder if there’s any chance Instagram might suddenly go down.

  JP begins to read, and nope, no such luck of an outage.

  I hold my breath as I watch him. JP doesn’t want serious. Would the fact that people in public are commenting on my interest in him freak him out?

  I don’t think it would.

  But it could.

  Couldn’t it?

  JP smiles at the screen and puts his phone away.

  “So, what’s next?” he asks casually.

  What? No comment?

  In fact, he seems happy, with a smile on his face.

  My interest in him is a good thing.

  “We,” Holly says, taking off her bowling shoes and interrupting my thoughts, “have to go home and tend to our diabetic cat.”

  “Aww, Puck,” I say. “I love that cat.”

  “Are you a cat person?” JP asks.

  “You’re asking Catwoman if she is a cat person?” I tease.

  JP grins. “Obviously a cat person.”

  “Cats are fantastic,” Matt says, slipping his regular shoes back on. “I never knew how much until I got Puck.”

  “He’s our fur baby,” Holly adds. “I can’t imagine our house without him. If Puck wasn’t the perfect name for him, a close second would be Shadow, because he’s always following Matt if he’s home.”

 
I sit down and begin to untie my shoes, and JP takes a seat next to me. His muscular thigh brushes against mine like it has every time we sat together tonight, and I feel that same zip of excitement as if it’s happening for the first time.

  “I want a tuxedo cat,” I say. “Black and white so I can name him Oreo.”

  “You take this Oreo obsession way too far,” Holly teases.

  “I think it would be cute.” I slip out of my shoes and reach for my kicks. “What about you, JP? Are you in the Cat Club?”

  “There’s an official Cat Club?” JP asks as he laces up his shoes.

  I pause for a moment as I study his shoes. They are super hip, taupe suede sneakers. JP is, without a doubt, the most fashionable man I’ve ever been around.

  “I’m in love with your shoes,” I say to JP.

  “Thanks,” JP says. “These are my Tod’s. I have a thing for shoes.”

  “Me, too,” I say. “I love shoes, and those shoes,” I say, inclining my head toward them, “are fantastic.”

  “Sounds like Shoe Club more than Cat Club,” Matt says.

  “Right, I was going to explain that,” I say. “Sorry, I got distracted by the shoes. Several Dallas Demons now have cats. Matt got one. My sister, Jordan, has two, and since she’s the in-arena hostess for the Demons, she’s in the Cat Club.”

  “Filip has one,” Holly adds, referring to the Demons’ forward.

  “Filip has a Maine Coon that has his own Connectivity account,” Matt says. “That cat is huge, in size and followers.”

  “Alexander has one,” JP says aloud, referring to his defensive partner from last season, “but dogs still outnumber cats on the team.”

  “Are you a potential candidate for membership in the Cat Club?” I ask JP, lifting an eyebrow at him. “Maybe help even the score?”

  “I like cats. I would consider it.”

  Bonus points for JP.

  The server comes back with JP’s card, and we gather our stuff to leave.

  We head out into the hot September night. Even though the sun has set, the temperature is still in the 90’s.

  I stop on the sidewalk and give Holly and Matt hugs goodbye.

  “See you in class tomorrow, right?” Holly asks, referring to our crack of dawn barre class.

  Oh, crap. Barre is going to be brutal tomorrow.

  “Yes,” I say, nodding. I need to get back on my workout routine, even if it’s torture to do so.

  “See you at the rink around eleven,” Matt says to JP.

  They leave, and now it’s just me and JP.

  Which makes me feel both excited and nervous.

  Is our evening over?

  Or could there be more?

  JP turns to me. “I had fun tonight.”

  “Even though I cost you the game with my crappy bowling?”

  “We’ll have to practice, that’s all.”

  He’s alluding to more.

  JP barely knows me. He hasn’t come close to kissing me.

  But he already knows he wants more time with me.

  Normally, this would make me run. A guy is already seeing a next week in his future, and we haven’t even had an official first date yet? No, thank you.

  But this time, my feet are still.

  “Practice?” I ask, testing him.

  “You need bowling lessons,” JP says. “I offer them at a very affordable rate if you’re interested.”

  Oh, I’m interested.

  “Talk details.”

  “Free.”

  I can’t help but grin. “Free? Do you offer these to anyone for a loss, Batman, or am I special?”

  “Only you.”

  Oh!

  JP clears his throat. “Um, Reese?”

  Anticipation zips through me. “Yes?”

  “I’m not ready for this night to be over.”

  My heart slams against my ribs. “Oh?”

  “No,” JP says. “Are you?”

  “No,” I say.

  A slow smile spreads across his face, one so beautiful I melt inside.

  “Good. I have an idea, and I think you’ll like it. Do you trust me?”

  Then he extends his hand to me, waiting for me to put my hand in his.

  I give him my hand, and he laces his strong fingers through it as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

  “Yes, I do,” I answer softly.

  While I have no idea what I’m saying yes to, I don’t care.

  I’m throwing caution to the wind, as normally my brain would be searching for an exit at this point.

  But I’m not.

  All I know is that I want more time with JP tonight.

  The opportunity is here.

  And I’m taking it.

  Chapter 8

  “Let me get this straight,” I say. “What we are doing requires you to run inside the grocery store while I wait in your car?”

  JP grins as he releases his seatbelt. “You act like this is strange.”

  We’ve left the bowling alley together, and JP has whipped his Maserati into the parking lot of the nearest grocery store we came upon, to my surprise.

  “It is strange,” I insist.

  “I need to get something before we go back to my place. If you come in with me, what I have planned won’t be a surprise,” he says. “You’ll have to trust me. Can you do that?”

  His eyes, which have now taken on a darker hue in the night light, stare sexily back at me.

  Wait. He needs to grab a surprise at the grocery story before going back to his place . . .

  Shit! Is he planning on having sex tonight? Is this a quick stop to buy condoms?

  “You aren’t going in to buy condoms, are you?” I blurt out.

  “What?” JP asks, incredulous. “You want me to buy condoms?”

  Gah!

  Shit, shit, shit.

  The stunned look on his face tells me Trojans were not on his shopping list.

  “You think I’m planning to take you home and hook up with you?”

  “Um, no. I mean, maybe,” I admit, sounding oh-so-grown-up.

  Despite my age, I am not an adult. The ability to vote and buy a beer are obviously not indicators of mature adulthood.

  “Is that what you want?”

  “No!”

  “No?”

  My face is on fire. I feel blood rushing to my head causing it to throb.

  I put my face in my hands and groan. “I’m an ass.”

  “Reese, stop.”

  I lift my head and look at him, seeing nothing but amusement reflected in his gorgeous eyes.

  “I wasn’t going to buy condoms.”

  Thank God.

  “Oh?” I ask casually.

  “Nah. I have those at home,” JP says. “I’ve only used a few since I got back last night.”

  Wait, what?

  A wicked grin passes over his face. “I’m kidding. I’ve only seen you since I’ve returned to Dallas.”

  I exhale loudly. “Right.”

  JP is still smiling at me. “I was going to get dessert. I wanted to surprise you.”

  Oh.

  “I’m an ass.”

  “For wanting to have sex with me?”

  “I don’t want to have sex with you!” I cry.

  JP cocks an eyebrow up, and I realize how that sounds.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  “I mean, not tonight. I’m not saying never.”

  “So, I have a shot in the dark,” JP teases.

  “Argh, can I start over?” I ask.

  JP rubs his hand across his face. “No.”

  “What do you mean,
‘no’?”

  “Here’s what I want to do. I want to go in the store, get some stuff, and take you back to my place. To hang out. Talk. That’s what I want tonight. That’s all I want.”

  JP is being literal when he says hang out.

  Crap. Is that all JP sees me as?

  His hang out buddy?

  His best girl friend?

  My heart drops straight into my stomach.

  Wait. Why does this bother me?

  I should be relieved. This makes it fool-proof. Nobody gets hurt, right?

  So why do I feel disappointed?

  “Okay,” I say, forcing a smile on my face as my brain tries to sort out the chaos going on in my head.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  JP slips out of the car and opens the rear passenger door. I watch as he retrieves his reusable canvas shopping bags. Then he goes up to the store and enters it, the sliding doors closing behind him.

  I put my head in my hands once again. What is it about JP that makes me such a mental mess? I could always take or leave guys in the past. But what is it about JP that makes me want more?

  Do I want more?

  No. I want casual.

  Just like he wants.

  I want to know what it’s like to kiss him.

  I shake my head, trying to force the thought out.

  No. I don’t need to know that.

  Of course, I did think “hanging out” could include some physical activity, but maybe JP has rock climbing in mind instead of kissing.

  Which is absolutely better than what I thought.

  One hundred percent better.

  Safer.

  Easier.

  Not messy.

  No drama.

  I throw my head back on the headrest and close my eyes.

  I’m definitely getting a therapist.

  I open my eyes and observe people coming in and out of the store. Before long, I spot JP, carrying his stuff in his environmentally friendly, reusable totes. He opens the door to the back seat, drops the bags inside, and then gets behind the wheel.