Rush: The Season (Austin Arrows Book 1)(33)
“Are you following me?” I ask, peering at Kingston over my shoulder.
“Nothing gets by you, yeah?”
I roll my eyes. “Okay, let me rephrase that. Why are you following me?”
I open my office door and step inside, Kingston right on my heels.
“That’s what boyfriends do, no?”
“Kingston…” I spin around to face him, ready to tell him that there is no reason to pretend when no one is around, but his hand covers my mouth before the words are out.
The sexy smirk on his lips makes my inner muscles clench. I am more than a little tempted to lick his hand. Just because.
“From here on out, we’re going to pretend. All the time. That’s the deal, yeah?”
I nod, his big, warm hand still covering my mouth. Being this close to him… My knees suddenly feel like noodles, and my body temperature is steadily climbing.
“Good. So there’s no reason for you to deny it. The less you do, the more people will believe it.”
I lift an eyebrow, a signal for him to remove his hand.
He clearly understands because his hand falls to his side, but his eyes never leave my face.
“That doesn’t mean you have to follow me to my office. Sitting at the bar, having a drink would work, too.”
Kingston grins, his gaze scanning the tiny space where sometimes paperwork gets done. “I wanted to see your office.”
“I’m pretty sure you’ve seen it before.” Truthfully, I have no idea because I can’t think past three minutes ago when he first put his arms around me.
Nor do I care.
His eyes meet mine again. “Yeah, but I haven’t seen it since you became my girlfriend.”
The deep rumble of his voice finds its way into me, swirling around and causing a delicious tingle that starts between my legs. What it is about him that infatuates me so much, I can’t possibly explain. Maybe it’s that rough baritone. Or his rugged good looks. Perhaps it’s his near-perfect physique. Or it could be the fact that when you step into a room with Kingston in it, there is absolutely no question who is in charge. The man exudes a ridiculous amount of masculine power.
Whatever it is, it should be illegal to be that damn sexy.
I cock an eyebrow. “Whatever.”
Trying to pretend he doesn’t affect me nearly as much as he does, I go to the safe in the wall, unlock it, and slide my purse inside.
“You done admiring my office?” I ask when I turn back to find him staring at my ass.
That smirk returns and my nipples harden.
I ignore them.
Knowing I can’t be distracted because I have a job to do, I shake off the ill-timed lust and head back out to the bar. My moment of weakness a thing of the past.
The night passes by quickly, which isn’t surprising considering how busy we’ve been. Although we cater to all sports, hockey is our main priority, hence the name. Wednesday nights are generally slow—relatively speaking. Most of the Arrows games are played on Tuesdays, Thursdays, Saturdays, and the occasional Friday. Of course, there are the Wednesday Night Rivalry games, but since those haven’t yet included many teams from our division, it’s not usually a big deal. That makes Wednesday somewhat of a rest day for us. However, all bets are off on nights before home games.
Since the Penalty Box happens to be the official hangout for the Austin Arrows players, we’ve come to expect a certain amount of business. With the season underway and the first official game only two days away, the fans are beginning to emerge once more, eager for their hockey fix.
Occupancy usually doubles when the players show up. And tonight they did.
Some of the favorites made an appearance—Patrick Benne, Mattias Valeri, Colton Seguine, Jesse Evans, and Josh Locke—keeping things lively. Since that’s a frequent occurrence, it doesn’t bother me that things haven’t gotten completely out of hand.
Luckily, we’ve had zero incidents to deal with, which, unlike our frequent clientele, isn’t always the case. At the Penalty Box, the theoretical two-year-old-mashed-potato-fight occurs damn near every night—and once it even happened for real (funny, since we don’t serve mashed potatoes). Then again, I’m mostly in the business of booze and sports, and with so much testosterone in the place, things tend to get a little heated, especially as the night wears on.
Speaking of… I glance at my watch. It’s almost two, which means we’ll be closing shortly.
“Good night, huh?” Noelle asks, coming to stand beside me at the bar.
“So far,” I tell her, grinning. We know better than to think we are out of the woods until all the patrons have dispersed. It’s amazing what drunk people can do in a matter of a few minutes if so inclined.
“I see your boy toy hung around all night.” Noelle nods toward the group of oversized men sitting in the far corner. “And he’s not even drinking.”
I follow Noelle’s gaze to the group in the corner. A gaggle of girls has gathered around them, smiling and laughing as though everything they have to say is the funniest shit they’ve ever heard.
“He doesn’t drink the week of their first game,” I tell Noelle.
Noelle’s eyebrow quirks and a smile forms. “Something he told you? Or something you noticed?”
I roll my eyes and laugh. “Something I picked up on long ago.”