Chapter 16
Gentleman
Camille
My heart fluttered as I watched Beau race up the ice, charge into the corner and out-muscle his opponent. Ever since he came back from that hit, he came back looking like a new man.
I never imagined I would've been excited for the chance of a dinner date with Beau Bradford—especially after what happened last night. But as soon as I took him up on that bet, I started secretly rooting for him. And as soon as the coach finally gave him his first shift? He did it. He scored a goal just seconds after he took the ice.
“Wow,” Piper gasped in awe. She patted my thigh. “That boy looks like he really wants that dinner.”
He played with speed, power, and skill—qualities that he hadn't shown in the first period. Sure, he still had a hard, physical edge; but now, instead of it bordering on nastiness, he only employed it in small measures, and only to tilt the balance of the game in his team's favor.
I answered hoarsely, “Yeah, guess so.”
“Must be a good feeling,” she giggled.
I answered shyly, “It is.”
Truth was? It wasn't just a good feeling. The idea that I had enough of a tug on Beau to impact the events of a professional hockey game … well! That was very, very flattering.
No—more than that, it was a rush of power, and I thought of Helen of Troy, whose face launched a thousand ships.
I watched Beau chug around the ice like a man possessed. He threw his weight into an opponent and knocked the man to the ice, snatched up the puck and fired another rocket at the goalie.
He was doing it all to impress me. Which, yes, was sort of a primitive, caveman mentality—and something I probably would've found unbecoming only 24 hours ago.
But you know what else was primitive and unbecoming? The way his demonstration of alpha power and masculine bravado inspired a sweltering warmth that spread between my thighs.
Some things you just can't help being attracted to.
Beau got the puck again. Bearing down on the Scouts goalie, he rushed the net. With a fancy move, Beau coaxed the goaltender out of his crease and deftly maneuvered the puck around the goalie's body, and easily stuffed it into the open net behind him. Piper and I both launched out of our seats to cheer—and earned a few nasty looks from the fans sitting around us.
It was a tie game, 2-2. And now, thanks to the terms of our bet, I was obligated to spend more time with him after our dinner date.
I crossed my legs and secretly indulged in the toe-curling throbs and pulses between my legs. Quietly, under the idle droning of the crowd, I moaned softly.
“Aw.” Piper put her arm around my shoulder. “Look, your cheeks are all pink. Are you embarrassed? You shouldn't be! It's so cute. I can't wait to hear about your date.”
“Well, we'll see,” I stammered. “I'm not exactly letting my guard down just yet … who knows what Beau really wants, after all.”
But even if it was just sex …? After seeing him play tonight, as shameful as it was, some animal part of me wouldn't even mind. If he only wanted to use me for one more night of pleasure? Fine. He'd left me feeling so impressed—by his prowess, his brute strength, his determination to claim me—that now, I knew I needed him tonight more than I needed anything else.
***
When the final horn sounded, the Blizzard, led by Beau, won 3-2.
The life had been sucked out of the stands at MSG. Over the stunned silence of the crowd, we could hear the cheers of the Blizzard boys as they congratulated each other on the ice. When Beau broke free from the group, he glided by my seat.
He gave me that infamous smile and a wink. Then Beau pointed at an imaginary watch that would be around his wrist.
“One hour,” he mouthed. “Dinner.”
I smiled and mouthed back, “Okay.”
We watched as he skated off, and his teammates attacked him again with more hugs and butt-spanks. They skated off the ice in high spirits.
“Now what?” Piper asked me.
I shrugged. “I guess I have to kill an hour.”
***
Piper and I passed the time with margaritas at a nearby bar. I texted Beau to meet us when he was free.
An hour later, Piper suddenly looked over my shoulder.
He's behind me, isn't he?
Sure enough, the weight of his massive hands settled gently on my shoulder. A tingle charged up my spine. Beau bent down, gave me a kiss on the cheek, and his familiar scent filled my senses.
“Hi Beau,” I said, my stomach twisting and tightening as soon as his stubble scraped against my cheek.
“Good evening,” he said politely.
I giggled, and remarked sarcastically to Piper, “Oh, tonight he's a gentleman.”
“Yeah.” Beau smiled. “Thought I'd try a little, anyway.”
He almost looked like a gentleman, too—minus the fresh set of stitches that ran through the pink and swollen skin just above his eyebrow. But he didn't look bothered by it; he looked perfectly happy. His skin was otherwise bright, his eyes glowed, and he wore an expensive cobalt suit. The well-tailored suit hugged his wide frame nicely, hinting at the hunks of muscle that I knew laid just beneath.
“Hey Beau!” Piper said. “Great game tonight.”
“Hey Piper.” He greeted her with a peck on the cheek. “By the way, the boys wanted me to thank you two for the cupcakes. Everyone was joking afterward that we won because of the extra boost from the vegan desserts.”
“Really? They liked them?” I asked.
“Yeah. No joke. Might have to be a regular thing when the team visits New York.”
“Oh, that's so good to hear!” Piper said. And with that, she jumped out of her stool and offered it to Beau. “Well, I'll be off, but you two have fun tonight …”
“Aw, c'mon, I don't want to chase you off. You should finish your drink, at least,” Beau said with a hint of concern.
“No need!” Piper blurted out. She grabbed her purse and gathered herself. “Remember, Cammy, I'm opening the bakery tomorrow, so you enjoy yourself tonight! Gotta go, bye!”
She almost ran for the door.
Beau slid into her stool, a brow raised in suspicion. “What's gotten into her?”
“I don't know. She's definitely in a hurry for something.”
“Well. Anyway.” Beau stared at me like he wanted to drink me up. His eyes slaved over my breasts and trailed up and down my body and, at last, he gave a soft exhale. “Wow, you look lovely, Camille.”
“Thank you,” I said quietly. I fought the urge to reject his compliment. Instead, I think I probably turned red from embarrassment. Next to Beau? I looked like a scrub. I hadn't dressed up for a fancy dinner … I'd dressed to get Beau hurt.
Which, y'know, was exactly what I did.
Eep.
“And you look very handsome in your suit. And also very, um.” Tenderly, I touched my finger to his skin, just outside his sutures. “Bad-ass?”
He grinned. “Glad you think it's bad-ass and not disgusting.”
“Oh, it's that, too.” We both laughed. “But more on the bad-ass side.”
Beau watched as I finished my drink in a hurry.
“Ready to eat?” he asked.
“Sure. So where are you taking me?”
“Hey, I asked you to think of where you wanted to go. You're the New Yorker—what's good around here? And don't be shy. You can pick some snobby French place if you want. Or, hell, some weird vegan restaurant.” He gently ribbed my side. “I'm up for anything.”
But I looked down and gave my outfit a grimace. “Would it be alright if we did something simpler? I don't feel dressed for something fancy. There's a diner nearby that I like. Everyone raves about their burger, fries and milkshake, and they've got options for me, too.”
Beau smiled. “That sounds amazing. Dream date, actually.”
I laughed. “You're such a guy, Beau.”
“Guilty as charged.” He stood and offered me his arm. “Shall we?”
I took his arm, and we left the bar and headed for the diner. The sun had set, but twilight kept the sky caught somewhere between day and night. Walking the city streets with my fingers wrapped snugly around Beau's bicep, I felt stuck between two states of mind. It wasn't all that long ago, after all, that I felt nothing but disgust and revulsion towards him.
But now, I understood how girls fell for Beau; I understood how easy it was to be seduced by his charm or his status. With me on his arm, I sensed his pride—that he was promenading me, showing me off to the residents of New York City.
It was easy to get swept up in the moment. To feel like we were more than just two old enemies from high school. Two old enemies who might not have anything more in common than some mind-blowing sexual chemistry. Chemistry so good that we were now, for whatever reason, both acting like we got along brilliantly.
At least I'm enjoying the delusion.