“Are you sure this is going to work?” I stare dubiously at the ball cap in my hands. As far as disguises go, it isn’t much of one.
“Works for me.”
“Yeah, but you’re a guy.”
Van smirks as he looks from me to the Saddledome. It’s hard to believe that just a week ago I ran away from this very stadium. “Yes, I am. Thanks for noting that.”
“It’s different for men, but girls have hair, and boobs.”
“You noticed that too, eh?”
“Oh my god, you’re like a dog with a bone.”
He chuckles. “Woof.”
I sigh and shake my head. “Are we sure about the glasses, though?”
I slip them on and turn to him with a serious expression. Van starts to squirm, and a six-foot-four, two-hundred-pound man squirming in the front seat of his equally large Hummer is a sight to behold. “Yeah, we’re definitely sure about those.”
“Van likes to spank his monkey to women with glasses,” Emmett pipes up for the first time since we picked him up from the hospital.
Van slams his head against the steering wheel. “Buddy, remember how we talked about oversharing?”
I grin at Emmett, who holds his fist out so that I can bump it with mine, and when Van glances at me I push them farther down my nose and look over the rim with my best sexy librarian face. “Then we can’t very well leave them behind, can we? Now come on, we’re going to be late.”
“You two go ahead. I may have to wait a little bit for the blood to drain from my cock.”
I chuckle, but heat claws at my face and neck as I put the ballcap on, tucking as much of my long hair underneath it as I can. “How do I look?”
“Like every wet dream I ever had,” he murmurs, releasing a loud breath.
“This better work, Van. I’m not ready to have everyone know where I am yet.” I’m not ready to leave. The longer I stay, the more I wonder why I spent so long working hard for a life of emptiness, a life alone.
“It’ll work.” Van opens his door and climbs out. Emmett does the same, but I shoot Van a worried look through the windshield as he rounds the Hummer to open my door. “Come on.”
“Okay.” I take his hand. He tries to pull away once I’m out of the vehicle, but I keep a hold of him by squeezing tightly, and I don’t let him go until we’re inside the rink.
I take the back seat for the drive home, and even though both men protest, I scramble in and shut the door before either one can do anything about it. Van is freshly showered, wearing jeans, a grey Henley and a hoodie. His hair is damp, and he smells amazing. He looks perfectly edible, which is why I don’t trust myself to sit beside him. The more distance I can put between us, the better. I can’t fall for this man. What would that even look like with our conflicting schedules? Besides, I’m pretty sure Van Ross prefers women with a whole lot more experience.
The boys climb into the car, and Van turns on the heat. Within seconds, the whole cab is filled with the scent of dry amber, ginger, and a hint of ocean. Oh god. I could just lick him from head to toe right now. I lean back against the headrest and close my eyes before I do something stupid like climb through the gap between the seats and curl up in his lap. What in the dickens is wrong with me? For the last two days, I’ve been staring at this man like a starving mutt at a barbeque. And seeing him on the ice with his brother, and the sweet way he had with Emmett’s friends, made me wanna lay down in the middle of that rink and declare that I was ready for him to make good on his promise to show me how amazing sex could be. After the way he held that one girl’s hand as he gently eased her out on the ice, I was fully prepared to give this man a whole hockey team worth of babies, and that’s not something I ever saw in my future.
She seemed like a sweet girl. Of course, I didn’t talk to her. I didn’t talk to anyone, but sat far enough away in the stands so that no one could make a positive ID. I saw the way she looked at Emmett, though. She stole glances at him from the time she arrived to when we left. She tried to talk to him at one point, but I could see how nervous she was because she balled her hands into fists. I don’t know what he said to her, because I wasn’t close enough, but it was brief, and the exchange looked a little terse. She skated away to the boards not that far from me, and I had to resist the urge to go talk to her. I don’t know their history. I don’t really know the first thing about Emmett, other than that he loves his brother, my music, watching moose in the Canadian wilds, and Count Chocula. Oh, and hockey.
“Hey Em, who was that girl?”
He shifts in his seat, facing me. “What girl?”
“You know, pretty, blonde hair in a bob? She tried to talk to you.”
“That’s Sadie.”
“Sadie, huh?” I try for nonchalance, but I can tell by the way Van’s eyes glare at me in the rear-view mirror that I’m about as subtle as a sledgehammer. “What did she say?”
“She wanted me to skate with her.”
“So why didn’t you?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know.”
“I think Sadie likes you, Emmett.”
He turns and gives me the same incredulous look his brother is. “No, she doesn’t.”
“Yes, yes, she does. She was crushed when you rejected her.”
He makes a scoffing sound. “I want a normal girlfriend, not someone with Down syndrome.”
Van sighs from the driver’s seat, and I come to the conclusion that this is not the first time they’ve discussed this.
“Emmett?” I venture, because I’m already pushing the friendship here, and I’ve never been one to do anything halfway.
“Yeah?”
“Do you see yourself as normal?”
“Of course.”
“So don’t you think that Sadie sees herself that way, too?”
“I don’t know, but she’s not.”
“Why not? What’s normal anyway?” I throw my hands up and slump back in my seat. “Your brother’s inability to take a hint is not normal. Nor is my—”
“Cooking,” Van finishes for me. “That shit is whack.”
I scowl at him. “Shut up, Van.”
“Maybe I want what you guys have. What’s so wrong with that?”
I meet Van’s eyes in the rear-view mirror and look away when a blush creeps across my cheeks. “What we have?”
“You know, chemistry and shit. I want a girlfriend that looks like Stella, and not my ugly mug.”
“I think Sadie is gorgeous. I mean, have you seen those eyes?” I lean forward and tap Van on the shoulder. “Van, you saw her up close. What shade are they?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know? Blue.”
“They’re green,” Emmett snaps.
A slow grin spreads across my face. “So you have noticed them?”
“Maybe.”
“I think you might have a little crush too, Emmett.”
“I don’t have a crush, alright?”
“Okay, no crush.” I throw my hands up in a placating gesture when he turns to scowl at me. “If you did, though, you might wanna be nicer to her.”
“I thought you were supposed to treat them mean, keep ’em keen, eh?”
“Who told you that? This jackass?” I point to his brother.
Emmett punches him in the arm, and Van chuckles. “What? I was eighteen.”
“You told me that a year ago, asshole.”
“Van Ross, do you have any idea what you’ve done? You, sir, have stood in the way of what could have been true love, and now some poor girl is probably crying into her pillow because you told your brother to be mean to girls. Emmett, you like her, right? No bullshit. How do you really feel about Sadie?”
“I don’t know. I guess I like her.”
I sigh impatiently. “Oh, come on, you don’t sort of guess you like a girl. You remembered her eye color. I’ve been with you guys for a whole week, and I bet this jackass couldn’t even tell me what color mine are.”
“They’re blue. Not regular blue . . . more like the Arctic Ocean under the ice.” This startles me, and I meet Van’s gaze again in the mirror. He grins and I arch a brow, but I can’t help smiling as I look away and turn my focus back to Emmett.
“The point is, you like her, and she really likes you. I think you owe it to yourselves to see where it goes. Invite her on a date.” Van’s whole body goes rigid at that. “Okay, so maybe it has to be a supervised date, but at least just think about it.”
Van chooses that time to turn up the radio and the conversation appears to be finished. For now.
When we pull into the driveway, Emmett jumps out and runs through the snow into the house. I get out too, but I’m stopped by Van before I can make it around the Hummer. He towers over me. “What are you doing?”
“I was going to go inside. I’m freezing my boobs off out here.” This, of course, forces him to lower his gaze to my nipples, and I cover them, even though I have on enough layers for it to not be a problem.
“What the hell was that?”
“What?” I ask, my teeth suddenly chattering. I hop all about to keep my blood from freezing in my veins and turning me into a giant popsicle. How do Canadians live like this?
“Why are you filling his head with that shit?”
“What shit?”
“You’re giving him ideas and setting him up to fail.”
I reel back as if he just dealt me a physical blow. “Why? Because you don’t have time for a regular relationship? What is so wrong with him liking Sadie, or maybe even feeling more than that for her?”
“Come on, Stella.” Van scoffs and folds his arms over his chest. “It’s not like he’s in love with her.”
“And what if he were? What’s wrong with falling in love, Van?”
“Nothing—”
“Really? Have you ever been in love?”
“Have you?” he snaps back.
“Yeah, tenth grade, before my whole life got turned upside down by the recording industry.” I attempt to move past him but he puffs himself up, widens his stance, and I suddenly find myself very close to the Hummer. Turns out hockey players are kind of hard to get by when they don’t want you to leave.
“I thought you were a virgin?”
“Sex and love are two very different things, Van. I don’t have to sleep with someone to know how I feel. If you do, then I feel sorry for you.”
He chuckles. He freaking chuckles. As if what I just said was funny. “You don’t need to feel sorry for me, country. I do just fine without your pity.”
“Oh, I have no doubt you do. I’m surprised this place isn’t crawling with . . . What are they called? Puck bunnies? Guys like you are the reason I don’t give it up for just anyone.” I make another attempt to slide by him but a huge hand comes out and gently pushes me up against the car. My heart hammers, and I glare up at him.
“Guys like me don’t fuck virgins, but goddamn, do you make me want to break the rules.”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing you don’t, because I wouldn’t say yes if you were the last man on earth.”
“Bullshit, country. You want me.” His hand is no longer pinning me against the Hummer, but instead toys with the faux-fur trim on my winter coat. He leans in, and if there wasn’t a tank behind me, I’d absolutely back up. Instead, I stay completely still as he leans forward, and when his lips meet mine, it’s explosive. His hands grip my hair, tugging off the baseball cap, and my arms slide around his neck and cling tight like a monkey’s. I couldn’t pull away if I wanted to. Do I even want to? Van’s tongue thrusts into my mouth, deepening the kiss as it twirls with my own. Nope. I definitely do not want to. In fact, I scramble up his big body and climb him like a tree. Van’s hands pull free of my hair to cup my ass, and I wrap my legs around his hips. He slams me back into the truck and I cry out, but his mouth devours mine hungrily and I can’t breathe. I can’t think of anything but him, and I never want to come up for air again.
Van groans and I rock my hips against him, trying to feel more of that delicious friction. “Jesus, country. Keep doing that and I’m going to come in my pants.”
I can’t answer because I’m busy kissing the scruff on his perfect jawline while his strong hands knead my ass. Not that I could form words anyway with how distracted I am by his body pressed against mine.
“Eww, gross, Van. Stop mauling Stella,” Emmett calls. Van pulls back, my mouth gapes, and there’s a long pause as we stare into one another’s eyes. Oh god, what the hell did we just do?
“Fuck.” He sets me down on my feet, and my spaghetti legs decide now is a good time to give out. Van steadies me with a chuckle and I scowl up at him, and stalk away. Assuming, of course, that you can actually stalk on legs made of wet noodles.
His resounding laughter follows me as I walk passed Emmett and into the house.
Stupid, dumb Canadian jerkoff.