That One Night: A Pucking Around Prequel Novella (4)

“That sucks,” she murmurs.

“Yeah,” I reply. It really sucks. With our crazy schedules, the time change, and the distance, I haven’t seen my sister in almost a year. I miss her like crazy.

Her brow furrows. “How is Seattle a halfway point? I’m just trying to think through that geography…”

“Amy lives in Japan, and I’m out on the east coast right now,” I reply. “So, it’s sorta halfway. I’m closer, and have no customs, so she made me pay for the hotel.”

“Whoa…that’s neat. What is she doing over there?”

I glance to my right, trying to play it cool. I just need to see her again. I need to know this is real, that I’m not making her up in my head. Yep, she’s still fucking gorgeous. And she’s looking right at me, waiting for me to reply. She’s initiating this, so I’m not the douche, right? I was totally minding my own business. She’s asking the questions.

“Umm…shit, I’m terrible with the details,” I say with a laugh. “Amy is the smart twin. Like, super smart. Two master’s degrees in engineering, and an awesome job doing something with a robotics company.”

She gasps, those pouty lips parting as her eyes flash with interest. “I’m a twin too.”

I grin. “No way. Fraternal?”

“Yeah, my brother Harrison. He’s eight minutes older,” she adds, taking a sip of her lemony tea.

“Hey, I knew there was something about you.” I grin back at her, raising my hand. “High five for fraternal twins!”

She laughs and rolls her eyes, playing along. She raises her right hand, the slim gold bracelets on her arm jingling as she gives me a high five.

We settle back on our stools, and I feel a little lighter. I want to know her name, but I’m terrified to ask. It just feels like if I do, she’ll disappear like a puff of smoke.

With Amy MIA, and my new flight home not scheduled until Tuesday morning, I’m all alone here in Seattle for the next two days. Maybe things are looking up…maybe this is fate. So what if I have to put off seeing Amy until Thanksgiving? I’ve got a beautiful girl keeping me company, and she doesn’t seem to totally hate talking to me.

“So…what are you doing in Seattle?” I ask.

“I’m also here on twin business,” she replies. “My brother’s wedding was this weekend.”

“Is that why you’re all dressed up?”

She nods, her smile falling. “Yeah, I had a post-wedding brunch today, but I wasn’t feeling very festive. I may have slipped out. I’ll text Harrison later and apologize,” she murmurs, checking her phone.

She may be gorgeous, but it’s also obvious that she’s depressed over something. I don’t want to push my luck, but I’m a social person…and I’m super nosy. I drive my teammates crazy by always shoving my way into their personal lives. What can I say? I like gossip, and I really like to help where I can. You can just call me Mr. Fix-It.

I really don’t want to scare her away though, so I settle with a neutral, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

She shakes her head. “Just some bad news. I’ll be fine. I’m making a plan.”

I nod. “Plans are good. Plans are…well, I’m terrible at making plans,” I admit. “But I’m really good at understanding the merits of a plan. And when plans are made for me, I stick to them like glue. You name it—travel plans, diet plans, workout plans. My whole life is basically one big book full of plans.”

She glances at me, her dark eyes narrowing. I can tell she wants to ask. Fuck, I wish she just would. She’s dying to ask. She’s got that look. The I-know-you’re-a-professional-athlete-but-tell-me-which-sport look. I’ve seen it a thousand times before.

Most women don’t even care. It’s like they’ve got a radar for the pros. They sniff us out and track us like we’ve got big glowing red beacons flashing on top of our heads. Mystery Girl is not that kind of girl. After almost ten years of this shit, I have a pretty good radar for sniffing out the puck bunnies.

“So…are you gonna ask me?” I say, flashing her a smile as I finish off my beer.

“Nope,” she replies, hiding her own smile by eating some of my fries.

I lean in, giving her a nudge with my elbow. “Come on…you know you want to.”

“I really don’t.”

“Why?”

She glances up at me, those dark eyes so open and honest. Fuck, she’s stripping me bare with that look. “Because I don’t want this to end yet.”

Oh shit, this is taking a turn. I can feel it—we both feel it. This isn’t puck bunny energy. In all those exchanges, I’m the one taking the lead. I pick the bunny; the bunny never picks me. This is totally different. This girl is different. It feels crazy to say it when I don’t even know her, but she’s way out of my league.

“And…what is this?” I say, stifling my goofy ass grin.

She holds my gaze. Her beauty is shredding me. “Okay, I’m just going to say something, and I need you to not freak out or bolt.”

I stiffen, smile falling, totally ready to do both. “Oookay…”

“I’m a zodiac girl.”

I groan. “Oh, fuck. Okay, umm…I’m a Taurus,” I say. “All I know is that apparently that’s ironic.”