I glance over my shoulder where some are already hanging with the groupies while others are shooting the shit with one another. “I’d hate to leave you alone.”
“I don’t need a babysitter.”
“According to you, I do though.” I smile brightly and get rewarded with a small chuckle that she stops abruptly.
“Actually, I said Ford.”
“Looks like Jana’s got that under control.” I nod across the room to where Jana is lecturing Ford about something over by the jukebox.
Rumors have spread that Jana might end up taking over the team soon because Gerhardt wants to bring another professional sports team into our town. The change would be interesting, that’s for sure.
“She’s tough,” Paisley says.
“How long have you guys been friends?” I ask before taking a sip of my drink.
“You do know there’s an empty side of the booth over there.” She points at the other side.
I chuckle. “I’m fine where I am, but thanks for your concern.”
Rachel brings our dishes at the same time, placing them in front of us.
“Looks great. Thanks, Rach.” I slide over to the other side of the booth, and Paisley looks at me as though she’s trying to figure out what I’m up to. I answer her unasked question. “I like you, and if you’re a loud chewer, I don’t want that to ruin this budding relationship.”
She stares blankly at me.
“Come on. Haven’t you ever been interested in someone just to find out they have some trait that drives you crazy?”
She unwraps her silverware and places the napkin in her lap. “Can’t say I have.”
“Well, think of it this way, I like you too much to find out if you have one just yet.” I wink, and she shakes her head and forks her pasta. “I will say one thing though, I love that you ordered food.”
“Do most people you’re interested in not eat?”
I laugh, but more times than not, they don’t. Or they eat something super small, like a side salad, definitely not a plate of pasta. “They do, but it’s different.”
She sets down her fork, wipes her mouth. “I’m curious, how many girls are we talking about?”
“Do you really want to compare numbers right now?” I arch an eyebrow.
She shrugs. “I don’t care anyway.”
“Doesn’t matter, I guess. Even if you say one person, that’ll be too high for me. I hate the idea of you with another man.”
Her fork slips from her fingers this time, resting on her plate of pasta. “What are you doing?”
Is my game that off?
“I thought my intentions were clear. I’m hitting on you.”
“I’m your therapist. You can’t hit on me.” Then she mumbles something, but all I make out is the word Jana.
“Okay then, let’s just enjoy a dinner together.” Maybe that will help her relax.
She forks her pasta once again and continues eating, never looking at me. We eat in silence for a while.
I glance around the room to see where Jana disappeared to, but I find her with Aiden and Saige, all of their eyes on Paisley and me. “Don’t look now, but we’re being watched.”
Paisley shakes her head. “I never should’ve come here.”
“Why do you say that?” I down a mussel and pick up my fork.
“Because people are now speculating about the two of us and I have to remain professional. Having people think I’m your postgame piece of ass isn’t going to earn me the respect I need in order to do my job.”
The bite in her tone makes me smile. I like this feisty side of her. Still, I never thought about how it would look to the other guys. I’m not known for sleeping with puck bunnies, but if they start speculating that I’m nailing the therapist… she’s right, they might not take her seriously. And because I have too much respect for her, I decide to cool it with my flirting.
“I’m sorry. You’re right. How about we just eat our meals?”
Her fork hovers over her plate of pasta and she gives me an appreciative smile. “Thank you.”
A few beats of silence pass, and I hear Ford’s voice carrying over everyone else’s in this place.
“So… I might actually be a big fan of hockey,” she says.
My fist pounds on the table. “I knew it.” Then my gaze scatters across the room. The music is too loud for anyone to hear me. “Favorite position?”
“Goalie.”
I snap my fingers. “Damn. Should I call over Roadie?”
She shakes her head. “No. Plus he’s married with two kids.”
Although that doesn’t stop some players, I don’t say that. “True, but I’m sure he’d sign your tits.”
“Maybe my ass too?” She feigns excitement.
I laugh because we both know she’s not that kind of woman. “What is it about hockey? What spurred your interest?”
“Mr. Gerhardt buying the team. I didn’t know anything about the sport until he brought the Fury down here. Jana always dragged me along to the games because she didn’t want to go alone. I fell in love with it.”
“I’ve loved it since I was old enough to skate. Probably before that. My dad played on a men’s team when I was younger, and my mom would take me all the time. Funny enough, that’s how I met my best bud, Armen.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.
Her eyes widen and I love the genuine interest in them. “Does Armen play?”
“No,” I answer truthfully without giving her any other information. She’s my therapist, and if I go into Armen’s story, I might as well open a vein and bleed out my pent-up emotions all over her.
“I guess I assumed you both played professionally for some reason.”
“Nope.” I shake my head and press my lips together. “You and I meet again in two days.”
She nods.
“I heard someone say you’re traveling with us?” I ask, hoping it’s true. I might have to cool it in front of my teammates, but who cares what happens behind closed doors.
Her face scrunches up. “No, I don’t think so.”
“That’s what I heard.”
She must hear the conviction in my voice because she puts down her fork and pulls out her phone, scrolling through. Her jaw falls open and she looks at me. “You’re right. Mr. Gerhardt just sent me an email.” She shakes her head. “Good thing I don’t have too many clients to maneuver around.”
“Just wait. Do you know how to play Oh Hell?”
She shakes her head.
“I’ll teach you.”
Her eyebrows shoot up.
I place my hands in the air. “Platonic. I swear.”
Maybe I need to take what I can get for the time being, but I’m not giving up.
When I was younger, I occasionally traveled with the Gerhardts on the Fury’s road games, but we’d take their private jet. I often daydreamed about what it would be like to sit on the plane with the players. What did they do on the plane? Was it like any other plane ride and everyone kept to themselves? As I got older, I wondered if they had strippers and alcohol overfilling their glasses, a constant party.