Overnight Sensation(3)

“Have you tried those noise-canceling headphones?” Drake asks. “You could give those a whirl.”

Silas doesn’t even acknowledge us. He slips past me and heads for the bar, where the video for the new song is playing on one of the TVs.

With a snicker, Bayer moves off to harass him, and O’Doul follows.

Our little group thins out, leaving me basically alone with Heidi. I should probably make an excuse to talk to my teammates. I should walk away. I don’t, though, because I feel about Heidi the way I feel about the last cookie in the cookie jar—I should resist, but I don’t really want to.

“Not a big fan of tequila?” I ask her. That’s my opening line. It isn’t too smooth, but she’s already watching me with those big baby-blues.

“I’m not accustomed to shots,” she says. “My mama would be appalled.”

“Why? You’re no worse for wear.”

“It’s not ladylike to drink fast, eat too much, or wear white shoes after Labor Day.”

“God.” I laugh. “Why?”

“It’s just impolite.”

Heidi has a hint of a southern accent, and the word comes out as impolaht. The delicate way it rolls off her tongue does something to my groin. Something very impolite. I’m determined to have her in my bed tonight.

“How was your summer?” I ask, because I’m a gentleman. Or at least I can fake it.

“Pretty dull, if you want to know the truth.” Her perfect lips tense for a moment before relaxing again. “I spent six weeks trying not to argue with my father. I was hoping he wouldn’t lose his mind when I told him I wasn’t going back to Bryn Mawr.”

“But he did anyway?” I guess.

“Absolutely. Total conniption.”

“Oh, man.” I know all about parental disappointment. “He yelled?”

“He yelled, and he threatened. My mistake was thinking that we could have a sensible conversation about it. There’s no arguing with that man when he gets his hard head set on something he wants. And he does not want me in Brooklyn.”

Ouch. “Your father doesn’t want you working for the team?”

“No sir, he does not.”

Sir. I want her to call me that when she’s naked. But we’ll get to that a little later. “Maybe your father doesn’t like hockey players.”

A strange reaction flickers across her face and then disappears immediately. “I think it’s me he doesn’t like. I spent the first twenty years of my life trying to be Daddy’s good little girl. But it’s impossible to please that man, and I am done trying.”

I would have never guessed that Heidi and I had so much in common. “That’s funny because my parents aren’t so wild about having me in Brooklyn, either.”

“My goodness, why? You’re killing it for the team.”

Her expression is full of wonder. God bless the girls who have a thing for hockey players. “My family is a bunch of nerds. They think I’m wasting my life playing a brutal sport when I should be getting a doctorate.”

“Oh,” Heidi says softly. “That sounds familiar.”

It’s actually a little more complicated than that. They think my whole lifestyle is self-destructive. And isn’t that ridiculous? Me with the eight-percent-body-fat ratio and low-resting heart rate.

“The booze and the women,” my dad says when he’s lecturing me. “They’re eating away at you.” He says this with a straight face and the paunch of a guy who sits at a desk much of the day.

“But it comes down to this,” Heidi declares, patting my hand to get my attention. “Who gets to say who’s wasting his life? Why do parents think they have that right?”

“Exactly.” I use my thumb to trap her hand against mine. Then I lean forward and look into her blue eyes. There’s no mistaking my interest.

“Right?” she squeaks as twin spots of pink appear on her cheekbones. But she doesn’t pull her hand away.

“Lucky for me,” I say. “My sister is an academic. So at least someone is following the family plan.”

Heidi blinks. Her gaze drops to our joined hands before returning to mine. “I have a sister, too,” she confesses. “But she does what she wants and they love her anyway. And they treat me like a convict just because I won’t finish my liberal arts degree.”

“Is your father an academic like mine?” I ask. Wouldn’t that be a funny coincidence?

“Um, no,” she says slowly. “But my mother went to Bryn Mawr. Now she is a full-time stay-at-home wife, and the world’s most eager country-club member.” She rolls her gorgeous eyes. “That hacks me off even more. ‘Stay in school, Heidi Jo. So you can graduate and never use that degree!’ They’d be thrilled if I’d settle down with a nice lawyer and start popping out the grandkids.”

“I have so many questions.” I chuckle. “Heidi Jo?”

“That’s what my family calls me. But I call myself Heidi so I don’t sound so…”

“Gone with the Wind?” I guess.

“Right.”

“And your parents really want you to get married? Why?”

She shrugs. “That’s the extent of my mother’s imagination, I think. Also, she’d have a wedding to plan. Marrying me off to a lawyer in a ballroom somewhere is her dream come true.”