Right Man, Right Time (The Vancouver Agitators, #3)(39)

“If the headlines read that, the worst of my problems isn’t what the public has to say. Facing the boys would be an absolute nightmare.”

“Just direct them toward me, and I’ll be able to explain.”

“Pretty sure you lost all credibility when it comes to explaining or telling any kind of story. You’re a loose cannon, and I won’t allow it to happen again.”

“Probably the best move you can make at the moment.” I grab the plate and lift it between us. “Cheese and cracker?”

“Sure.”





“Do you go to those kinds of things often?” I ask as we sit in Silas’s car, sharing a large fry and sucking down milkshakes we got from a local joint that happened to be open.

“I go to more than I want to, that’s for sure.”

“So was that painful for you?” I pick up a fry and shove the crispy potato in my mouth.

“Parts of it.” He lolls his head to the side to smirk at me. “Other parts, not so bad.”

“I think we all know the painful part, and I’m pretty sure we’re over it, so there’s no need to bring it up again.”

“You’re the one who brought it up.” He nudges my leg with his index finger knuckle.

“No need to be right all the time, Silas. It isn’t an attractive quality.”

“Good thing I have no need to be attractive around you since we have a strict no whorehouse policy.”

“A policy I feel very strongly about.”

“Is that why you were flirting with Yonny tonight?” He sips from his straw as I stare at him in shock.

“Excuse me, sir, I was not flirting.”

“Could have fooled everyone in the room, even Candace. She stormed off to the bathroom when she saw you two at the buffet.”

“Stop. No, she didn’t.”

Silas nods his head. “She did.”

“Well, I wasn’t flirting. If anyone was flirting, it was Yonny. I was just being polite.”

“Flirting when he knows you’re attached? That’s fucked up.”

“Is that why you came over to me?” I ask, still curious about the neck kiss.

“I didn’t like that my girl was talking to another man,” Silas says immediately as if he didn’t need any time to think about his answer.

“Uh, I’m not your girl.”

He picks up a fry and says, “You are when we work a job together. I would never let that happen in reality, so it’s not going to happen when we’re fake dating either. I had to stake my claim.”

“Is that what was happening?” I ask, the back of my neck growing hot at the thought of him possessing and acting on that sort of attitude in real life. I’ve read about these possessive men who want to control you but also give you space at the same time, but I’ve never experienced one. Now, as I live and breathe, Silas Taters is stepping up.

And that feeling that flew through me with the feel of his lips on my skin was very . . . arousing.

“Fuck yes, it was,” he says. “I’m not about to have anyone thinking you belong to anyone but me when we’re in public. Now here, in the car, I can sit for twenty minutes, not giving two shits that you have dried milkshake crusted on the tip of your nose.”

“Oh my God!” I shout as I grab the visor and flip down the mirror to look at myself. And sure as the day I was born, I have chocolate milkshake on my nose. I pick up a napkin, lick it, and then rub. “Why the hell are you just letting me sit here with milkshake on my nose?”

He leans back in his chair with a grin. “Donkey pervert, Ollie . . . donkey pervert.”





Chapter Eight





SILAS





“Are you bringing Ollie to the family skate welcome party?” Posey asks as he sits next to me on the bench, water bottle in hand.

“We’re in the middle of drills, and that’s what you’re asking me?” I pick up a water bottle and squirt some water in my mouth.

“What am I going to say? That I can feel the bologna sandwich I ate before stepping on the ice lodged in my stomach, acting like a two-ton brick and slowing me the fuck down?”

“Dude, you have a problem. Stop eating those.”

“I do have a problem. I got a new pack yesterday, and it was calling me to open it this morning. I have no control.”

“You’re vile.”

Our coach blows the whistle, letting the third-string line take a turn. First string is up next, so I stand from the bench, sweat dripping down my face with my helmet perched on the top of my head.

“So, are you?”

“I haven’t thought about it,” I answer.

“You should. She could meet everyone. I know Penny and Winnie will be there. Penny won’t be skating, but it might be nice for Ollie to meet them.”

“Yeah, maybe,” I say.

“Don’t be that way.”

“Don’t be what way?” I ask, confused.

“Not go because Sarah will be there.”

I turn toward Posey. “She’s going to be there?”

“Yeah, everyone is.”

I run my tongue over my teeth just as the whistle sounds. I pull down my helmet, slip my mouth guard in, then hop over the boards and onto the ice.