Her eyes narrowed. “I was going to surprise you on the road. In Montreal. When have you not wanted a quick hotel fuck, Trevi?”
Trevi. He’d always been a name on the back of a hockey jersey to her. That used to be fine with him, too. It wasn’t anymore, though. Maybe this wasn’t all Amy’s fault. But he was allowed to change his mind, right?
“I’m sorry,” he said slowly. “I don’t want to argue. But I didn’t mean to start something up with you.”
“Fine,” she snapped, her eyes dampening. “So you were okay using me for sex in college, but not anymore.”
“Amy,” he whispered. “I was good to you in college.” If anyone had been used, he was pretty sure it was mutual. And once they’d gone exclusive senior year, he’d never looked at another girl. Even though she’d been awfully high maintenance, he’d put up with all her antics with a smile.
“But you never loved me,” she spat. “I can’t believe I wasted so much time on you.”
Now heads were turning in their direction. That couldn’t be good for anyone’s dignity. “Let’s walk out to the car,” he said gently. Thank God he’d asked the driver to wait, even if it was costing him a fortune. “We can talk more if you want.”
“‘Talk’ is not what I came here for.” She’d raised her voice. And now she tossed her hair in that age-old show of female defiance. “You are clearly too dumb to recognize a scoring opportunity when one comes around. Hope your teammates know. It doesn’t bode well for your stats on the road. Best of luck, rookie!” This last bit was delivered at a shout. And then Amy stomped away on her glittering high heels, her ass sashaying in that shiny dress. Dancers lost the beat on the dance floor, and the crowd parted for her.
Then dozens of eyes landed on Leo, standing there stupidly.
His neck was hot and his head throbbed. And he wanted nothing more than to tear his constricting bow tie off and hurl it across the room. Naturally his gaze fell right on Georgia, who was no longer dancing with Silas. She was staring at him in horror.
Shit. Another PR disaster. Who knew the NHL would turn him into the kind of guy who caused a scene at least once a week? And he couldn’t even leave right now, because Amy might still be collecting her coat in the entryway and locating the car he asked to wait for her.
Another drink, then.
Leo took a deep breath and headed for the bar against the wall. While he waited for the bartender’s attention, he tried to imagine what his brother was going to say when he heard about this. The kid was going to laugh his ass off, probably.
“Scotch, please,” he said when he reached the front of the line. He dug a couple of singles out of his pocket and tucked them into a brimming tip jar.
“Leo,” a soft voice whispered.
After taking his drink, he turned. There stood Georgia, looking both ridiculously hot and absolutely pissed off. All night he’d been trying not to notice her in that dark blue dress, which skimmed her taut body with one long sweep of fabric. She’d worn dresses dozens of times when they were young. But this one made it painfully obvious that she wasn’t a teenager anymore. It was sophisticated. Something a smart, sexy woman wore.
Jesus. He found it impossible to stop his head—and other body parts—from revisiting the past.
“That was quite a performance,” Georgia said, putting one hand on her silk-clad hip. Leo was envious of her palm. “Since when are you a spotlight hog? If I have reporters asking about the rookie and his messy dance-floor breakup tomorrow, you’ll officially be the most time-consuming player on my docket. God forbid my office should talk about hockey.”
He heard every unfortunate word, even as he admired the pink tint to her cheeks and the fiery look in her eye. “Yeah, it was a lot of fun for me, too. I’m thinking I should just call it a night and slip out the back.”
“Good plan,” she fired back.
He took a big swig of his scotch, which was excellent. “Right. But if you do get calls tomorrow, try to remember that you invited her tonight.”
Leo thought he’d gotten the last word, except he’d forgotten that Georgia always won a volley. “You dated her in the first place,” Georgia returned. “Or do I have that wrong?” Her big blue eyes narrowed, and she crossed her arms in front of her perfect chest. Hell, a guy could forget what argument he’d been making.
That’s when he threw in the towel. When they were together, he always let her win the fights. Georgia was a smart girl, she never steered him wrong. And the makeup sex had always been spectacular. “Fine. I think it’s pretty clear tonight that I’m an idiot. Maybe the girl made a few good points there at the end.”
Georgia’s lips twitched. Then she gave in and smiled. And it was like the sun came out. There was more warmth and humor in Georgia’s smile than he’d seen anywhere else in six years. His heart said, This. This right here.
His brain didn’t weigh in at all, unfortunately. That’s the only explanation for the way he stepped forward to cup her cheek. His fingertips slid into the silky hair behind her ear.
Those clear, pretty eyes widened slightly. But that didn’t stop him. For the first time in way too long, Leo leaned down and claimed her mouth in a kiss, right on her very sweet lips. Georgia made a soft, bitten-off sound of surprise. Damn, how he’d missed her. This was too much and yet not enough, either. He deepened the kiss, stroking her cheek with his thumb, his groin tightening at the feel of her skin under his hand. She tasted like the happiest years of his life.
She tasted like his.
But Georgia had more sense than he did—as always. She put one perfect hand in the center of his chest and gave him a little push. “Leo,” she warned softly as they broke apart. This wasn’t the time or the place for the reunion he craved, though neither his body nor his heart really cared. He straightened up, though, because her eyes asked him to. But he couldn’t have looked away—not even if he’d been promised a Stanley Cup win.
And that was unfortunate. Because if he’d looked around, he might have seen the approach of Coach Worthington and his angry red face. Or at least his fist, which came shooting out to catch Leo square in the jaw.
Leo’s head snapped sideways from the impact, and he stumbled back a step, his ass hitting the table beside the bar, where a hundred or so wine glasses were lined up, waiting for the next thirsty guests. The ensuing crash and tinkle of glass was deafening.
As a reflex, Leo clapped a hand over his face at the point of connection. But he had to hold on to the bar with his free hand because the room seemed to tilt from impact. He closed his eyes, hoping he wouldn’t black out.
“No!” he heard Georgia gasp, and the frightened edge to her voice helped him focus.