“Earth to Kelsey.”
Whitney’s voice draws me out of my thoughts.
“Sorry.”
“Who are you thinking about?” Lennon, my other friend, says.
I definitely don’t want to tell her where my mind was. She’s the most sexually free woman I’ve ever met. She owns a sex toy company and is hell-bent on making sure every woman is satisfied on the regular.
And I am… when I have a sex life at all, that is. Which now that I think about it was a while ago.
“Sorry. My mind wandered for a moment.” I smile.
We’re in my living room, which isn’t very big or lavish compared to where these two live with their very rich husbands, but they’ve never made me feel less than because of it.
“I’ll bet I know where it wandered to…” Whitney singsongs.
I chuckle and roll my eyes. “Give it a rest.”
I filled Whitney in on what happened between Brock and me in the hallway and she’s tried to convince me to give him a chance ever since.
“I feel like there’s more to the story than the fact that a superhot professional athlete basically confessed that he wants to fuck you on national TV.” Lennon looks between the two of us.
I groan and fill Lennon in on my hallway confrontation with Brock. She’s grinning by the time I’m done.
“Girlfriend, you need to take him up on his offer.”
I scoff. “No way. I don’t want any more attention on us. I want this to go away so I can do my job without having people trying to guess my bra size.”
She raises her hands up. “I get it. I really do. It’s hard enough to get the patriarchy to take us seriously on a regular day, let alone when everyone is talking about your amazing rack. But are you attracted to him? I mean, if all of this hadn’t happened, and he asked you out, would you have said yes?”
I consider what she’s saying for a moment and shrug. “I guess so. I mean, I also report on his team, so there’s a bit of a journalistic conflict there, too.”
“Then you should go out with him and see where it leads. Fuck whatever anyone else is going to say.”
And if I were Lennon, I’d probably feel the same. I’ve never met someone more comfortable in their own skin. Unfortunately, I’m the complete opposite.
I shake my head. “It’s better if this all just washes away. In a few weeks, no one will even remember anything about this.” I tip my glass back and finish off the rest of my wine. “Anyone else want a refill?” I stand from the couch.
“Me, please.” Whitney finishes off her glass and hands it to me.
I walk over to the kitchen that’s open to my living room and pull the white wine from the fridge.
“Hey!” Whitney shifts on the couch to face me in the kitchen. “Cole’s new restaurant is opening next week. You should come to the opening. There will be lots of eligible bachelors there. Maybe we can find someone to get your mind off Brock Allen.”
I scowl across the room. “I told you—my mind isn’t on Brock Allen.”
“Neither is your pussy,” Lennon says and tosses back some of her wine.
“Lennon!” Both Whitney and I dissolve into giggles as I return to the living room and hand her her glass.
We don’t mention Brock’s name again for the rest of the night, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think about him.
I step into the warmly lit restaurant and look around. Whitney told me Cole’s new venture was a departure from the pub he owns that I’ve been to several times over the years, but this is the complete opposite.
Rather than worn wood floors and tables, there are cream-colored linens covering the tables and plush fabric seats. Candles flicker in the center of each table and rather than stale beer, my stomach rumbles at the scent of seafood and garlic.
All the tables on the perimeter of the room remain, but some tables in the middle of the space have been removed to allow people to mingle.
After I check my coat, Whitney spots me. She leans in and says something to her husband, Cole, who looks in my direction and gives me a nod and wave, then returns to his conversation with the man standing near them.
I’m sure Cole is busy making the rounds, and I make a mental note to catch up with him later.
“You came!” Whitney engulfs me in a hug when she reaches me, then pulls back to take me in. “And you look phenomenal.”
“Thanks.” I slide my hands down the clingy fabric of my black dress.
I’m so used to wearing my work clothes that it feels odd to be wearing something so formfitting and revealing. My cleavage is on full display in the V of this body-con dress. But I’ll admit, it’s nice to feel sexy.
“You look beautiful.” Her dark hair is pulled back, and she’s wearing an emerald-colored dress.
“Thanks.” She hooks her arm in mine and leads me farther into the room. “You have to try the food while you’re here. The chef basically made little versions of the bigger plates on the menu, and they are delish. But how about a drink to start?”
“That’d be great.” She leads us to the back of the room where the bar is. “This place is beautiful, Whit. You guys must be really excited.”
“In all honesty, I’m just happy it’s finished. Cole has been a bear because he’s so stressed out about piecing everything together for the opening. But everything came together in the end.”
I squeeze her arm at my side. “As they usually do.”
Her smile turns coy. “Just remember that, okay?” Her gaze darts nervously to the side of the bar.
My brows furrow and I follow her direction of sight, only to find none other than Brock Allen dressed in a charcoal suit leaning against the bar, his eyes soaking me up.
My head whips in her direction. “What did you do?” I whisper-shout.
“Gotta go check on the food. See you in a bit.” She rushes off before I can give her a piece of my mind, so I turn back in Brock’s direction.
He pushes off the bar, a glass of probably Cole’s Rock Hard Whiskey in hand and saunters over to me. He looks like an erotic dream dressed in the slim-fitting suit with black tie. So different from how he looks on the ice and after the games.
“Good to see you, Kelsey. You look exceptional.” He leans in closer and lowers his voice. “Between the two of us.”
His eyes alight with good humor and his gaze drags up and down my body like a light brush of his fingertips.
I hate the way my nipples pebble, as if begging him to touch them.
“I’m surprised to see you here,” I say.
He shrugs. “I get invited to all kinds of things like this. I just usually decline.”
“Why did you come to this one?”
“I heard on good authority that you’d be here.”
I purse my lips and make a mental note to find out whether I have to kill Whitney, Lennon, or both.
“I’m not sure why that would matter. I thought I was pretty clear the other day when we spoke.”
He rocks back on his heels. “You certainly did. But I wanted to add to my apology.”
I tilt my head and wait to hear what he has to say.
“You see, after you berated me in that hallway, I went home and did some digging. You’re right.” A flicker of irritation filters through his amber eyes.