Dirty Score (Rough Riders Hockey 3) - Page 52

A young valet leaned in and smiled as he opened the door. “Here you go, miss. Do you need directions or recommendations tonight?”

Yes, she needed step-by-step directions on how to go back in time and unsleep with a man. She also needed recommendations on how to find and live on a remote island where no one had ever heard of the game of hockey.

“No,” she said, returning his smile, “thank you.”

She gave the driver the address of the bar in Long Beach where the crew was meeting, then settled back in the seat.

Before the valet had even closed the door, she was struck by how very different this situation was from the night before. Memories of her fairy-tale-like ride just twenty-four hours ago made a melancholy smile turn her lips.

“Mia!” Rafe’s voice pulled her attention back just before the door closed on a click.

She sat there a long second, unsure whether to respond or ignore him.

Rafe made the decision for her when he opened the door, a look of complete confusion on his face. “What are you doing? I thought we were going together.”

He was wearing what he usually wore into the stadium on game day—a charcoal-gray suit and a crisp white button-down, minus the tie. His freshly showered scent drifted in and teased Mia’s nose. And, damn, she hated seeing him so soon after a game. His hair was still wet, his face still flushed, his eyes still sparkling from all that adrenaline. Heat stirred between her legs.

Dammit.

“You must not have gotten my message.” She went for cool but not bitchy. “I said—”

“Great game? Celebrate with the guys, I’m going to do the party on my own? Screw that.” He slid in beside her and closed the door. The driver peered over his shoulder, his dark eyes darting between them. “Go wherever she told you to go.”

The driver cut a look at Mia. She sighed, nodded, and avoided talking to Rafe until they were on the road and the angry aura around him had simmered down a notch.

“Thought you’d be in a pretty good mood tonight,” she said. “You kicked ass in the game.” She looked at the rasp above his left eye. The one he’d gotten from a header into the boards. A header that had cut off Mia’s air for long seconds until he stood up again. “You should probably put ice on that.”

“I was going to grab some at your room,” he bit out, cutting her an angry look, “but you weren’t there.”

“If you had read your messages,” she said trying to hold her own temper, “you would have known I wouldn’t be there.”

“I didn’t check my messages because I was hustling to get ready so I wouldn’t make you late.”

“Don’t take out your pissy mood on me. Dekker’s the one who slammed you into the boards.”

“Dekker’s not the one who put me in this pissy mood.”

“Why are you yelling at me?”

“Because you just tried to ditch me, and you’ve ignored my texts all day when you’re the only thing I can think about.”

He hooked a hand around her neck, pulled her in, and covered her mouth with his. An angry murmur vibrated in her throat, and she pushed a hand against his chest. Rafe broke the kiss and curled his fingers into her hair, making her gasp. Then kissed her again. Taking advantage of her parted lips, he plunged his tongue into her mouth, stealing her breath.

Mia’s frustration melted in the heat, and she tightened her fingers in his shirt. Rafe hummed into her mouth, the sound hungry and pained as he took the kiss deeper. Then he tipped his head and cradled hers in the crook of his elbow. His other arm slipped around her waist and tightened.

His heart thundered beneath her palm. His tongue warmed her mouth. Mia wanted to drown in him. Wanted to beg him to make her world stop spinning out of control.

He broke the kiss and dropped his forehead against her shoulder while he gasped for air.

When he didn’t speak, Mia eased her hold on his neck. “I need to make a good first impression on these people. You know, pretend I’m stable. Someone with a normal life who will be dependable and predictable. Not someone who does rash, risky things that disrupt everyone around me. And as volatile as you and I have been lately, I thought it would be better for us to retreat back into our own lives. We have to do it soon anyway.”

“The reason we are so volatile is because we’re always worried about Tate finding out.” He lifted a hand to her face and cupped it. “This is the perfect opportunity for us to be together without anyone watching. Just be ourselves with each other without worries we’ll be seen or word will get back to Tate.”

That might or might not be true, she didn’t know. It all depended on how closely this group followed hockey. “You make it sound like we haven’t already known each other for twenty years.”

“What is wrong with you tonight? Why are you so angry?”

Mia’s patience snapped. “Because I’m leaving you in a couple of days. Because I have to learn how to live without you in my life all over again.” She hadn’t meant to yell, but her words reverberated in the cab, and the driver cast frightened looks in the rearview mirror. “I shouldn’t have come. I should have known I couldn’t keep things casual with you. Why couldn’t you have been an asshole after we slept together the first time? Why do you have to be so, so, so damn you?”

Tags: Skye Jordan Rough Riders Hockey Romance
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