Rushed(17)

"Guess it's that obvious?" Tyler responds with a sigh and a chuckle. “It’s not anything against the city. I just want to get to the League — it’s always been a dream. Plus, Duncan's signing bonus alone for his rookie contract in the League is worth what I'd make in years here in Toronto."

"So you want the big money contract?" I ask, not offended. Just about every guy who comes up to Canada is looking for another shot down south. "Even if it means playing for a team that has no chance at winning?”

Tyler chuckles. "Okay, maybe not, but you get my point."

I want to say there are things more important than money, but I can't. Not with the situation I'm in right now, where I'm pouring every spare penny I can into trying to make my parents' lives a little bit easier at the hospital. Instead, we make small talk until dinner comes, and I will give the restaurant credit, they may be a steakhouse but they make a pretty mean filet of salmon too. The whole time, Tyler's looking at me with desire in his eyes, and warmth fills my belly, focusing between my thighs.

"So you know where I got this suit, where'd you get that dress?" he asks about halfway through dinner. "It's perfect on you."

I blush, even if the word perfect is meant for the dress and not me. "A gift, from a friend. Like you, her family has money, although she's more free and has a better relationship with her folks. She bought it for me just before we graduated together and she moved to Vancouver. We still email every once in a while. She'll be happy I finally wore this thing."

Tyler smirks, and takes my hand again. "Well, that 'thing' makes you look like a Hollywood A-lister."

I feel heat rush to my cheeks again, and as the check comes, Tyler takes out his credit card. He sees the look of concern on my face and shakes his head, smiling. "No worries, the card's good until I get my first paycheck from the Fighters.”

"I don't know . . . a walk maybe?" I say, and Tyler smiles. "Not too far though, my feet will die in these heels if I go far."

"Then we'll keep it short," Tyler says, offering his hand. I take his arm again, and we stop at the front register to sign the bill and then he leads me outside. It's a perfect night, too, with not a hint of clouds in the sky and just a light breeze kissing away the warmth of the day.

"That was a great dinner," I say thankfully as we turn the corner. "I haven't had such a good time in . . . well, I can't remember."

"I enjoyed it too. You know, your point about hockey caught me off guard, I didn't think about how those guys are going to be so much more popular than I will."

"You're taking it in stride though."

Tyler laughs and gives me a look that turns my knees to jelly, it's smoldering and sexy and just . . . damn! "I didn't say I like it, just that I accept it. Besides, I'm not looking for attention."

"What are you looking for?" I ask, and Tyler stops, his eyes telling me exactly what he's looking for. Magically, our bodies come closer, and I feel like I'm in a dream. I can feel the warmth of his body through his suit, and I put my hands on his chest, my heart racing as I look into his eyes. With my heels on, he's just the right height to . . . "I'm sorry Tyler, I can't."

Tyler, whose lips are only a finger's width away from mine, stops, his voice low and soft. "Stop what? That I want to kiss you? What's wrong with that?"

"We shouldn’t. We work together, and I need this job,” I protest, forcing my legs to take a step back even though every bit of me wants to keep going forward. "Please . . . just take me back to the hotel."

I realize what I just said, and swallow, my face already turning red. If I was just going to this, why’d I even come to begin with? “I mean, to my car. I just can't."

Tyler considers me for a moment, and I can feel his hands on my arm and waist, and I know that if he pulls, there's nothing I can do to stop him. He's so strong, and half of me wants him to pull closer, to kiss me and take me . . . to just take me. But instead, he relents, a little smile on his face. "I can see it in your eyes, April. You don't want to say no, but you think you should. Well, I can respect that. A good quarterback knows when to be patient, and when to force the action. Come on, let's go get the car."

When I get home, I'm trying not to cry in frustration, my body is so torn. For years, I've dreamed of having a date with a man like Tyler . . . no, wait, with Tyler himself, and when I have him right there, in his arms . . . I chicken out?

"What the hell am I doing?" I whisper as I look at the sad, pathetic girl in the mirror, playing dress up with her costume. The heels that scream f*ck me… the dress . . .

My phone rings, and I see that it's from Tyler. “Hello, Tyler?"

"I know what you're thinking right now," he says, and even through the phone the warm tenor of his voice helps pick me up. "I'm telling you right now . . . you looked beautiful tonight. That's no lie . . . you looked beautiful. I'll see you at the stadium tomorrow."

Tyler hangs up, and I feel like I'm floating again. I lean against the wall, my eyes closing in delight.

"You are beautiful," Tyler says, so handsome and debonair in his suit. The fireplace crackles, and I feel the warmth on the bare skin of my back. He comes closer, he hands coming to rest on my hips. "How could I have forgotten such a beautiful girl?"