Ohhhhh shit. Do not cry. Georgia took a deep breath in through her nose. He was waiting, patient as ever. The one thing Georgia knew for sure in that moment was that Leo was going to go far in hockey. Never was a player so fierce or fearless as he was right in that moment, calling her bluff like the competitive genius that he really was.
They weren’t eighteen anymore, though. The uncomplicated love they’d enjoyed at eighteen couldn’t last anyway. He should know that by now.
“Yes or no, Gigi,” he said softly. “It’s a yes or no question. Do you love me like I love you?”
Georgia’s heart held a gun on itself. Then it pulled the trigger. She shook her head.
For a few seconds nothing happened. His laser gaze stayed trained on her face, as if expecting her to crack and admit she was a lying liar who had just lied.
She didn’t crack, though.
Finally, he turned toward the steering wheel, put the car in drive and maneuvered out of the parking lot. Five minutes later they arrived in front of her apartment building. She unclipped the seatbelt with shaking hands. What did a girl say after she’d just stabbed a good man in the heart? Thanks for dinner. The lasagna was killer.
“I just have one more thing to say,” Leo rasped from the driver’s seat.
“What?” she whispered, afraid to look at him again. So she was startled when his big hand cupped the back of her head and tugged her toward him. The world’s softest kiss landed on her lips, and she returned it on instinct. For one beautiful moment, everything went silent inside her. As his lips caressed her own, she stopped hearing the echoes of a hundred worries. All she heard instead was her own sigh, and the soft sound Leo made from deep inside his chest.
Then it was over. He pulled away, leaving Georgia bereft in the passenger seat.
“That will have to hold me,” he said under his breath as he turned away.
Georgia got out of the car on shaky knees and grabbed the door. It took all her willpower to close the door and turn away.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Leo’s head was not in a good place as he hung his suit in the locker and pulled on his Bruisers workout kit. Something was wrong, and it pissed Leo off not to be told what. It didn’t seem fair.
But Georgia had always been fair. That was one of the things he loved about her. Whether it was tennis, gin rummy, or love, she’d always been honest and true. She always gave it to him straight.
So why not now? What could be so scary that it could not be discussed?
She wasn’t afraid of sex. Commitment? That didn’t sound like her. Was she afraid that he wasn’t committed? Hell. He’d get down on a knee and pop the question if he thought it wouldn’t scare her off. Her dad would have a coronary.
Leo chuckled to himself just imagining it.
He left the dressing room, but hesitated in the hallway. The lounge wasn’t appealing to him, because food and company weren’t what he needed right now. Instead, he headed into the stretching room, which was empty. He sat down on the mats and began to loosen up his hamstrings, reaching slowly for the arches of his feet and breathing deeply. The yoga instructor would be so proud. Then he got up on one knee to stretch his hip flexors.
The stretching routine almost worked. But Georgia’s tentative face kept looming in his memory. The bittersweet smile she’d given his mother before they’d left after dinner . . .
Argh. Here he was worrying about her again. When there was a hockey game that needed winning.
“Hey,” Silas said from the doorway. “Got a minute?”
“Sure.” Leo flopped back onto the mat and lifted his legs to stretch his lower back. “What’s up?”
Silas came into the room and sat on the neighboring mat. “Remember I told you that your room had a fucking eject button under it?”
“Shit.” He remembered that all too well. “Why do you ask?”
“I have a buddy in Vancouver. We played together in college.”
“Yeah?”
“He called me to say that he and I might be teammates again. There’s a rumor that he’s going to be traded to Brooklyn.”
Leo sat up fast. “Wait. Traded for who?”
Silas winced. “For you, man. I wasn’t sure I should even mention it. Don’t want to throw you off your game tonight. But . . .” He cleared his throat. “I know you have some complications here. Thought you could use the heads-up.”
Leo wasn’t one to panic. It was one of the reasons that he did so well at hockey—he was calm whenever things swerved in an unexpected direction. So this news didn’t throw him into a tailspin. If another NHL team wanted him, that meant his stock in the league was rising. But . . .
Georgia.
“Christ,” he said. And then a chuckle rose up in his chest. A few things became clear to him all of a sudden. Georgia wasn’t afraid of commitment. She was afraid that he was about to be shipped several thousand miles away. He laughed, feeling better than he’d felt all day.
“Are you going to let me in on the joke?” Silas asked. “I like gallows humor.”
Leo shook his head. “It’s just a cosmic joke, right? The universe is giving me the runaround today. But I’m good. It will all work out.” Either he’d be traded or not. “You’ll have a roommate either way, man. Me or your buddy from college.”
Silas shook his head. “That’s not the reaction I expected.”
“Eh. There are worse things. Maybe this will get me out of the next black-tie benefit.”
“Now that’s looking on the bright side. I got that e-mail today, too. Don’t forget to put your date’s name in by the end of the week. Maybe that Amy chick is available to accompany you.” Silas cackled.
“Aren’t you funny. But you know what? Last time you didn’t have a date at all. How’d you get away with that?”
“I could tell you my secret, but it’ll cost you.” The goalie hooked one ankle over the other one and grinned. “Your favorite publicist makes a date mandatory because she thinks it improves our behavior if there’s women at every table.”
Leo snorted. “Hell. She’s probably right. How do you get around it? I’ll pay up.”
“This one’s on me. But don’t tell anyone. You just make up a name. Put any name on the list. Then, the night of the party, your fictional date stands you up. It’s the simplest thing in the world. And the bonus is that if it’s a sit-down dinner, you can eat twice. Some of these fancy caterers are stingy.”
“God, that’s so obvious. Why didn’t I think of that?”