I roll my head to the right to discover Dylan is indeed heading this way.
Eek! All my head-rolling and chin jerking, not to mention the puck bunny comment, have probably come off as mating signals, because here…he…comes.
No, I’m all sweaty and gross. This is not the time to meet a hot hockey player.
I grab Graham’s arm and plead, “Save me?”
“Ha,” he replies, vengeful and smug. “Not a chance. You’re on your own, Miss K-Y.”
He starts walking away and I call out, “I thought you weren’t still mad about that? You said yourself it was over twelve years ago.”
Too late, Graham’s retreated to the neutral zone—the men’s locker room.
And the hockey player is closing in.
I turn to face him, flipping my ponytail and flashing my most winning smile.
“Hi,” I breathe out, adding in a cute wave for good measure.
But it’s all for naught—gorgeous Dylan walks right by me like I’m not even there.
I realize then he was on his way to the locker room the whole time. He wasn’t coming over to meet me, not at all.
I’m mortified. I’ve just made the biggest fool of myself.
And then it gets worse—he turns back around like it just dawned on him I said something.
“Did you just say hi to me?” he asks from a few feet away.
He’s so mesmerizingly handsome that all I can do is murmur, “Uh-huh.”
His eyes, a rich complex brown, scan me from head to toe. So I go ahead and do the same to him. Now that he’s closer it’s clear he has a really cool tattoo that starts at his left bicep and continues up to his muscular shoulder. From there, it disappears around to his back. Though I can’t see the whole thing, I can tell it’s a dragon.
Hmm, a symbol of strength, I think to myself. A strong friend would be good to have.
And how very timely, seeing as the next step in the X Your Ex program is “Make a New Friend.”
Too bad it’s not “Have a Night of Wild Sex with a Hot Dude.” I could get on board with that one. But then again, maybe not since that’s not really me.
“So friends it is,” I mumble under my breath.
“What’s that?” he says. “I couldn’t hear you.”
Suddenly, I realize I have seen him before—on the big-ass TV Graham bought me. He is a hockey player, and a really good one at that. Graham wasn’t messing with me. It’s just taken me a few minutes to place the name and put it with the face.
And, oh, what a face…
Back to Graham, I feel bad now. Sighing, I say, “Jeez, maybe I shouldn’t have brought up the K-Y.”
Uh-oh, I just said that a little too loudly. Dylan heard, for sure. The smirk on his face leaves no doubt.
Oh, great. Now he’s going to think I’m a nut, a weirdo, and a pervert, all rolled into one. I’m really batting a thousand here.
“K-Y?” He raises a brow. “Should I even ask?”
Chuckling, I reply, “No, probably not. I was just thinking about my brother.”
Now he’s eyeing me like I’m some sort of sicko.
Now I’m a nutty weirdo pervert who associates K-Y jelly with her brother.
Ready to melt into the floor, I say, “Can we just start this whole conversation over?”
“Sure,” he says, laughing and sticking out his hand. “Hi, I’m Dylan.”
I shake his hand and reply, “Hey, Dylan. I’m Chloe, Chloe Tettersaw.”