Roman (Cold Fury Hockey #7)(10)
She hasn’t seen me yet but I’m about to rectify that. I push up off the bench and in five strides I’m standing in the open doorway to the training room. She has her back to me, looking at some of the rehab posters on the wall, so I’m not surprised she startles when I say from behind her, “Imagine that…running into you twice in one week.”
The woman spins around, and it’s clear she recognizes my voice, as her eyes are already bright with welcome as they make contact with my own.
“Well, if it isn’t the team troublemaker, Roman Sykora,” she says with a grin.
I grin back at her, since she obviously knows who I am. “I will not deny that moniker. But don’t you think it’s about time I got your name? We didn’t have a chance the other day.”
Fuck, she’s totally cute when she tilts her head to the side, raises her eyes up to the ceiling, and taps a forefinger against her lips as if she’s pondering my request with great care. Then she looks back to me with a smile and takes three steps my way with her hand outstretched. “Lexi Robertson.”
Her hand is small in mine, bones slight and delicate, but her shake is surprisingly strong. Her silvery eyes with tinges of blue around the pupil sparkle at me in amusement as I refuse to let her hand go after the introduction is long dead.
“So why’s a gorgeous girl named Lexi Robertson getting a personal tour of the athletic trainer’s room from the great and powerful Brannon?”
For a second, I think I see something akin to panic flicker across her face, but then I’m completely redirected when she grips my hand tighter, showing no desire for us to break apart, then goes as far as to run a finger from her other hand across the back of mine. “I’m curious why a known troublemaker would dare be sauntering into the locker room long after the rest of the team started practice. Surely you’re not looking for more trouble?”
Fuck…she’s a flirt, and I like that too. I like it because I am as well.
At this point, I’m not sure if the “trouble” she’s referencing is the fact that I’m late or the fact that I’m bantering with a woman who potentially could be considered trouble. I’m guessing by the mischievous look in her eyes it’s the latter, and damn if that doesn’t hook me harder.
I’ve never run from trouble before and actually find myself quite at home around it.
“Well, I am indeed late for practice, but it would be totally worth it if I spent this time talking you into going out with me,” I tell her bluntly, but with a boyish grin to enhance my charm.
Her eyes sparkle even more brilliantly, and I swear the blue ringing her pupils expands outward to overtake the silver-gray. She narrows her eyes at me contemplatively. “Hmmmm. I’m what most would consider an adventurer, but I’m not quite sure I could handle the likes of you.”
“You should only believe half of what you read about me,” I advise her seriously as we still hold hands.
“So true or false?” she asks slyly. “Did that woman really try to blackmail you over that photo?”
“True,” I say unabashed.
“And was she engaged to one of your teammates?”
“Also true,” I say, and manage not to wince, because that could be a total turnoff for most women. I also press forward with some of my better qualities before she asks me about the video my ex-flavor-of-the-month posted online of me in the shower singing. The glass was frosted and you couldn’t see details of my body, but my singing is fucking awful. “But I have many good points. I work with a local golden retriever rescue organization, transporting animals when I have time and writing hefty donation checks. Doesn’t that make me an upstanding guy?”
“You get chronically ejected from games for underhanded hits,” she points out.
“But golden retrievers,” I say with an exaggerated mock whine. “Puppies…warm bundles of puppy fur. Surely that makes up for my rotten temperament on the ice, right?”
“You really are bad, aren’t you?” She laughs as she pulls her hand from mine and takes a step back. Oddly, I don’t like this, but then I’m relieved when she merely hops up onto the therapy table behind her. “Trying to bribe me with puppies.”
“Well, what else could I bribe you with to go out with me?” I ask as I step closer to her.
She crosses one ankle over the other, plants her palms on the vinyl top, and casually swings her legs back and forth. “What did you have in mind?”
My mind blanks for a moment, because I hadn’t really thought where we’d go on a date. I’d sort of jumped ahead to what would happen after the date, which I hoped might involve being naked.
“We could go out to dinner tonight,” I throw out to her. It’s classic and is easier to get to know someone a little better rather than sitting through a movie.
She shakes her head and a wave of disappointment hits me. “I have to work tonight.”
“Tomorrow night?” I counter quickly, only to remember I can’t because I have a game. “Shit…not tomorrow night. How about the night after?”
She shakes her head again. “Also have to work.”
I take a breath, let it out, and try to put things in better perspective. “Okay, let’s start with what do you do for a living and when you do have time to go out with me.”