Rush: The Season (Austin Arrows Book 1)(60)

That or she really, really likes Halloween. Which is true. Tonight she’s decked out from head to toe, and she looks so cute in her cat outfit. Although she’s short, Noelle definitely has the body to pull it off. Petite and curvy with toned legs and big boobs… Each time she passes by, I see heads turn and eyes follow her. My brother’s included, although I can tell he’s trying to hide his intrigue.

I haven’t seen Kingston tonight, but I’m hoping he’ll come. I haven’t seen him since Saturday night, and we didn’t talk at all yesterday. Not even by text. I think that’s my fault. I’m still a little freaked out about my body’s ridiculous reaction to the man. On top of that, Bianca came down with a pretty nasty cold yesterday morning, so I took advantage of having Julie here and went home early.

Thankfully, the cold is gone and Bianca is back to her normal self. Only at twelve can that happen in twenty-four hours, but hey, I’m not complaining. Of course, she’s over at Gabby’s for a little while, handing out candy to the little ones coming to the door. It’s what she does, or so she tells me. Gabby’s mother is going to bring her home around ten because they’ve got school tomorrow.

When I notice one of the bus boys sweating because he’s running back and forth, I grab a cloth and go after him, wiping down the table while he carries more dishes to the back. Poor kid has been busting his ass all night. We should’ve had another one here, but of course, it’s a holiday, which means someone will call in sick. And they did.

“Thanks,” the kid calls out before he’s off once again.

As I’m leaning over a table, a warm body presses up against my back, and I pause momentarily to see if I recognize who it is. I don’t want to hurt someone I know, but not many people are stupid enough to approach me without warning, much less get this cozy.

“Why aren’t you dressed up tonight?”

Kingston’s deep, rumbling growl is soft against my ear. It sends chills down my spine. Another tremor shoots through me when he wraps his arms around me and pulls me into him. I glance over my shoulder and see that he’s not in costume, either.

“I’m working. What’s your excuse?”

He smiles, then kisses my nose before pulling back. “Didn’t have time.”

“Right.”

He follows as I head back to the bar.

“What brings you by?” I ask as I pass him a beer.

“Wanted to see you.”

I’m not sure how I’m supposed to take that, but it warms me from the inside out. I’m sure he means it in a friendly manner, but my body is taking it completely out of context. Truth is, I’ve missed him. There for a while, it seemed like I was seeing him every day. And if I didn’t, we were talking on the phone or texting. Yesterday and today, he’s been MIA. I know it’s only been two days and he has a life of his own, but it feels as though he’s avoiding me.

Considering what transpired between us at the charity dinner—and the texts leading up to it—I can’t say I blame him. The attraction we have for one another is like an unyielding force. I think we’re both trying to fight it, but I don’t think it’ll matter in the end. I’m just glad he’s got more willpower than I do because if it was up to me, I would’ve had Mount Rushmore in my bed on Saturday night. And I would’ve enjoyed every freaking second of it.

And okay, there might’ve been a smidgeon of regret in the morning. An itty, bitty, tiny bit.

Now that I think about it, Kingston must’ve realized that, too, hence him being the perfect gentleman and kissing me good night on my front porch.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here.” I offer a smile before I move down to the other end to help a customer. I can feel Kingston’s eyes on me as I work. Even when Seg joins him at the bar, it’s as though he’s unable to look away. I won’t lie, that makes me feel good.

Probably a little too good.



I’m not sure how I got to my house but I’m fairly certain it is all thanks to the sexy goalie currently keeping me upright as he unlocks my front door and helps me inside. Most of what happened tonight is a blur, and I remind myself to offer him a sober thank you tomorrow for being thoughtful enough to bring me home.

“Thanks,” I say, chuckling, not sure what exactly I find amusing.

“For what? Letting you get blitzed with my team?” Kingston asks, his voice unusually deep tonight.

Perhaps it’s the tequila trickling through my veins that has something to do with that. I didn’t realize I’d indulged in so many shots until it was too late. I generally stick to a two-shot rule at night when I work, usually aiming for none. I wasn’t able to resist tonight.

And I have a feeling it’s Mount Rushmore’s fault.

All. His. Fault.

I honestly didn’t expect the night to take such an interesting turn. It started when a few more of Kingston’s teammates showed up, followed by a handful of puck bunnies. At that point, a strange possessive feeling took root in my chest. Something I’ve never felt before. In an effort to ignore it, I accepted the shot challenge that one of the players pulled out of his ass when he’d been blatantly flirting with me.

Shot challenges suck.

My wayward thoughts make me giggle, but then I briefly sober when I think about my daughter.