I shake my head. “It’s not like that at all. He’s just intrigued by me because I’m not bending over and taking it up the ass from him at the drop of a puck.”
She points to me. “Nice hockey analogy.”
I giggle, though I am pretty pleased with myself. “I actually came up with it on my own.”
“Impressive.”
“Right?” I shake my head, waving her off. “But seriously, he’s damn hot, and I wouldn’t mind. But he’ll get bored.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You know why. He’s who he is, and I’m who I am. Plus, he’s probably a titty man. I don’t have those,” I say with a shrug, but something catches her eye halfway through my sentence. Within seconds, she’s staring off to the side, and I roll my eyes as I take a sip of my wine.
Before I can turn to see what she is staring at, her eyes meet mine. “Well, sis, I don’t think he gives two fucks if you have them. Not with the way he is looking at you.”
I’m confused, and I turn in my seat just in time to see Nico coming toward me. He looks like a runway model in a crisp, expensive suit. His hair is wet and brushed back, and his face bears that smirk that makes it hard for me to form coherent thoughts. His brown eyes hold mine, and my whole body breaks out in gooseflesh. I swallow hard and notice that he is looking nowhere but at me. I brush my hair off my shoulders as he leans on the bar, that damn smirk devilishly handsome.
“Were you talking about me?”
It’s like there is a frog in my throat. “Excuse me?”
His smirk gets bigger. “Since I haven’t met your lovely friend, she sure did pick me out of a crowd and tell you I was here.”
I recover somehow. “She’s a fan and was telling me you were here.”
His eyes darken. “Or you were telling her all about me and how much you wish I were here?”
“Your head is getting bigger by the second.”
He chuckles as his eyes move down my body. “You look incredible.” I lick my lips, and he inhales sharply. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” I ask, confused.
“Lick those lips,” he says roughly. I swear, I think I’m going to fall out of my chair.
I look deep into his eyes. “Why not?”
His gaze doesn’t leave mine. “Makes it real hard not to kiss them.”
Suddenly, Jaylin is at my shoulder. “Please do. She really needs to be kissed.”
“Jaylin!” I scold, glancing back at her in shock, but she just shrugs.
“I don’t even care how embarrassed that makes you,” she says with no fucks to give, and I refuse to look at Nico. I know my face is beet red; I feel it everywhere. “Hi, I’m Jaylin Raventorn.”
They shake hands, though I notice Nico doesn’t look her in the eye. That’s weird. Everyone looks at Jaylin. She’s stunning and, to be honest, totally his type.
She has boobs. Boobs I wouldn’t mind punching since she thinks it’s funny to throw me to the wolves, but boobs nonetheless.
“Nico Merryweather. It’s nice to meet you.”
“You too,” she says, but I’m still fuming mad. I can’t believe she said that. Then again, she had been drinking for an hour before I got here.
“Hey, Aviva.”
I don’t want to look at him, but I also don’t want to be rude. I glance up at him, and he’s holding a beer. Where did that come from? “Yeah?”
“Seriously, you are stunning. As always.”
More heat fills my face, and that damn heart of mine skips a beat. It must be drunk. “Thanks.”
“And don’t worry. I won’t kiss you.” Why does that upset me? I mean, I knew the truth. But still. When he leans forward, his eyes dark and demanding, he whispers, “Yet.”
Chapter Ten
Aviva
“This is my buddy, Kirby Litman.”
Kirby isn’t even looking at me. He’s zeroed in on Jaylin. Of course, she notices and leans toward him, her breast on full display. She taps my shoulder, and I hook a thumb at her. “These are my boobs…I mean, my best friend, Jaylin.”
She gives me a dry look, but I shrug while Nico chuckles. She and Kirby shake hands before Nico bends to ask me, “How do you know her?”
“We were next-door neighbors growing up.”
“Nice. All my close friends like that are back in Canada.”
I lean on my hand. “That’s where you’re from?”
“A little town outside of Quebec City. My mom and grandparents are still there. Though, I bet my mom wishes I’d let her live here.”
“Why don’t you?”
He shakes his head. “You know how you are with Callie? Times that by a hundred, and that’s my mom. So overbearing.”
I try not to be offended, but of course I am. “You think I’m overbearing?”
He shakes his head quickly, holding up a hand. “Not at all. You’re protective and make sure things are good for her. My mom does that and then some. She calls my trainers and doctors…and I’m twenty-seven.”