Breakout (A Dallas Demons Hockey Romance) (5 page)

Chapter 8

The One Online Dating Service Profile Question:
A guy you’re interested in has just asked you to meet him for a drink. What do you wear? A smart cocktail dress? A mini skirt to flash some sexy leg? More casual?

My write-in answer:
Of course he asks me for a drink, and I’m dressed for a hockey game. While I love my gray mock wrap cable sweater with the shawl collar, dark wash skinny jeans, and black suede boots, I’m dying to be in something sexier right now . . .

“Drinks after the game?” I repeat, smiling at him.

Niko grins. “Yes. I’d love to buy you a drink as a thank you for creating the open.”

And with those words, my bubble of happiness bursts.

He doesn’t want to take me out for a drink to get to know me better.

Niko wants to buy me a drink as a thank you.

To his editor.

I bite down on my lower lip, disappointment raging through me. Once again, another guy views me as Lexi Stewart, their buddy. The girl who can edit and talk sports with the best of them.

Not Lexi Stewart, the girl they want to date.

And even though I’ve been placed in this category so, so many times before, it has never stung as badly as Niko putting me here right now.

“Lexi?” Niko asks, furrowing his brow. “Did I offend you by asking you to have a drink? If so, I’m so sorry, I ju—”

I see the expression of concern on his face, and I’m mortified. It’s not his fault that I misread his interest in me. I have to fix this. Quick.

“Niko, no, of course not,” I interrupt, plastering a smile on my face. “It’s like coworkers having drinks. Not offensive at all. Of course I’m game for that.”

Niko studies me for a moment, and for a brief second, his face changes. His brow furrows, almost as if he didn’t expect the answer I gave him.

No, that’s not it. That wouldn’t make any sense and besides, he’s not interested and—

Shit. I’m delusional. And I’m having a whole conversation about it with myself.

Ugh, I don’t need a date with Niko.

I need to find a crappy house to rent, adopt 50 cats, and embrace my destiny as a single crazy cat lady.

“Right, coworkers,” Niko reiterates. Then he clears his throat. “So how about the Demons Club? It will take me some time to finish up here, but I can meet you there if you don’t mind waiting.”

“That’s perfect,” I say, thinking of the bar inside the arena. “I usually go there with Kenley while she waits for Nate after the game. So I’ll see you there.”

“All right,” Niko says, studying me for a moment. “I’ll text you before I head down.”

“Okay,” I say, smiling at him.

And I keep the smile on my face as I watch him bound up the stairs to the truck and go back inside, and only when he’s out of sight do I let it fall.

Right along with any hopes in my heart for anything other than friendship with Niko Xenakis.

After a thrilling 6-4 win over the Baltimore Blades, the atmosphere inside the Demons Club is electric. People are wall-to-wall with drinks in hand to celebrate the win. Club music pulsates throughout the chic bar. Every tall chrome table is taken, and monitors show the post-game interviews, not that you can hear a single word that Harrison Flynn is saying.

And you would think my attitude would match the excited vibe that is surrounding me. After all, Niko will be joining me in a bit to buy me a drink.

Except there’s one detail that leaves a whole big black cloud over that fact.

Niko is buying a drink to say, “Job well done, Lexi!”

Not “Hey, Lexi, I’d like to get to know you better. How about we talk over a drink?”

Ugh
.

“Am I missing something here?” Kenley shouts at me across the table, snapping me from my thoughts.

I blink. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Um, let’s see, you have a dead-sexy guy coming down here in a bit to see you,” Kenley says, “and you act like you’re waiting for a root canal.”

Despite my mood, I smile. Kenley has been my best friend since childhood, and she can read me like nobody else can.

“Come on, Kenley. You know why I’m like this. Niko’s buying me a drink to say thanks. It’s disappointing.”

“No, it’s
exciting.
You’re getting a chance to know him better, how is that disappointing? And I’m sorry, but I don’t see him running around to buy everyone on his crew a drink. Just you. There’s a reason for that.”

“Yes. It’s too expensive to buy everyone on the crew a drink,” I quip, taking a sip of my club soda.

“Argh! I swear I’m going to come over there and shake some sense into you.”

I laugh. “Hmmm, that would make for interesting pics on Tumblr. ‘Nate Johansson’s girlfriend attacks woman at Demons Club.’”

Kenley bursts out laughing. She’s been snapped in public a lot since becoming Nate’s girlfriend, so we like to make up outrageous headlines that we could envision on social media.

“Oh, yes,” Kenley says, her blue eyes sparkling. “Next caption: ‘Kenley Hunter Slaps Woman, Overheard Screaming About Bestie Being Blind to Attraction from Hot As Hell Producer.’”

My face grows hot from her words.

“I’m
not
being blind,” I insist.

Kenley takes a sip of her wine. “I disagree.”

“Kenley!”

“Lexi!”

My phone buzzes. My heart jumps, and Kenley leans forward excitedly. I glance down and see it’s CiCi.

“Sorry, it’s your mother.” I pick up the phone to read her message aloud to Kenley. “‘Apparently this Greek One is shy. Or has no life. I have only found pictures of him in trade magazines for TV people announcing his hiring to produce the Demons.’”

I cock an eyebrow at Kenley, who looks embarrassed.

“Glad to have CiCi on the case,” I tease.

“I’m so sorry about that,” Kenley says, shaking her head. “She was over at Amanda’s when I texted her.”

I laugh. “I don’t mind, you know I love CiCi.”

My phone buzzes again. “Oh, wait, she must have found his wife or something.”

But the text isn’t from CiCi.

It’s from Niko.

He’s on his way up to meet me for a drink.

And while I know he sees me as a coworker, a part of me wonders if Kenley is right. Could I have an opportunity to get to know him better tonight and possibly change his mind about that?

Optimism fills me. Maybe one drink can change things.

And I’ll find out if that is the case in a matter of minutes.

Chapter 9

The One Online Dating Service Profile Question:
How much do you like to reveal on a first date? Should the questioning be flirty? Deep and meaningful to see if there could be a potential future? Simple, because it’s only a first date?

My write-in answer:
It’s not even a date, but all I want to be is myself when I get to talk to him. That’s what I want from Niko, too. And my gut is telling me the real Niko is someone I could really fall for . . .

I nervously wait for Niko to make it up to the Demons Club. I keep glancing at the door, to see if I see him making the way through the crowd, searching for me.

“I’ll leave right after he gets here,” Kenley says, interrupting my thoughts.

I whip my head toward her. “What? No! That’s too obvious! You have to at least stay for fifteen minutes.”

Kenley rolls her eyes. “Um, I’m sorry, he didn’t want to have drinks with me tonight. He wants to have a drink with
you,
sexy lady.”

Now I know my face is blood red. I’m quite sure it matches my hair.

“Stop.”

“You look amazing,” Kenley declares. “That sweater hugs you in all the right places.”

“I’m still dressed for a hockey game.”

“Um, yes, maybe because you’re at one?”

I’m about to respond when I glance toward the door again.

And this time, Niko is there.

He’s got the gray suit jacket on now, which fits his frame perfectly. The white shirt appears even brighter in the lights of the bar, and it’s still opened a few buttons at the neck. Niko is standing at the doorway, absently stroking his fingers across his five o’clock shadow as he scans the crowd.

Looking for me.

Finally his eyes lock with mine. A smile lights up his face, and I feel myself beaming in return.

Niko moves through the crowd, headed straight to our table.

“He’s here,” I say, briefly shifting my attention to Kenley. “Really hot guy with dark hair in the suit.”

Kenley swivels toward the door.

“Oh wow,” Kenley says, facing me. “He’s seriously
hot.
”

“I told you he was.” I glance back at him, and Niko is almost to our table now.

“I feel like I want to throw up,” I blurt out, as excitement and anxiety take turns doing battle in my stomach.

“Don’t throw up. That would gross him out,” Kenley quips.

“Shut up.”

“You love me.”

Just then Niko comes up to our table, flashing me another smile, one that reveals the dimple in his cheek.

“Hey, Lexi,” he says, grinning. “Thanks for waiting on me. It took a while to get out of the truck.”

“No problem.” I’m thankful that at least my voice sounds calm and unaffected, unlike the rest of me. “Niko, this is my roommate, Kenley Hunter. Kenley, this is Niko, the new Dallas Demons producer.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Niko says, extending his hand to her.

“Likewise,” Kenley says, smiling at him while she shakes his hand.

Then I watch for what always happens when guys meet Kenley for the first time. Their eyes linger over her, the smile broadens, and they start talking her up. Of course, Niko knows she’s dating Nate, so that last part won’t happen, but it will be hard for him not to stare because she’s stunning. All guys do it. I mean, they can’t help it, she’s like a model and all a—

Niko releases her hand and immediately shifts his blue eyes to me. “What can I get you to drink?”

Niko didn’t even bat an eyelash at her. He greeted her. Period.

Those gorgeous Mediterranean eyes are now locked elsewhere.

On me
.

“I’m sorry to have to run,” Kenley says, sliding down off the tall barstool chair and interrupting my thoughts. “But I’m going to meet some of the girls down in the lounge before Nate gets out.”

I smile at her. “Okay. Tell Nate great game for me.”

“I will. Be careful going home,” Kenley says.

“I will. See you tomorrow.”

Kenley then says goodbye to both of us, leaving us alone at the table.

And as soon as Kenley leaves, I turn back to Niko. Whose gaze is still on my face.

“So what can I get you?” he asks again.

“Um, a red wine,” I say, finding my voice. Which I can barely hear over the excited beating of my heart.

Niko grins. “That leaves the door open for lots of interpretation.”

“Maybe I’m curious as to how you fulfill my request.”

His eyes flicker. “I see. I’m going to be judged on the kind of wine I bring back to the table?”

Heat sears through me from our banter.

“You’re a producer,” I say smartly. “Let’s see if you can produce a wine I like.”

Niko laughs, and I join him. His eyes are shining back at me now, and I love that expression in his eyes.

“This producer doesn’t back down from a challenge,” Niko says sexily. “Your throwdown is accepted. I’ll be back.”

I watch him head off toward the bar, my confidence swelling inside me. That was flirting. He flirted back with me. And he didn’t even care that Kenley—the most beautiful girl in the room—was right in front of him.

Niko only had eyes for me,
I think in amazement.

Niko returns to the table with two glasses of red wine. He sets one in front of me and moves to the stool directly across the table. Niko slips out of his suit jacket, tossing it over the back of his seat, and sits down.

“Before you drink it,” Niko says, “a toast. To a job well done on that open.”

He lifts his glass, and I happily tap mine against his. “And to your first Dallas Demons production. With no major meltdowns, I presume?”

Niko laughs. “Your presumption is correct. Cheers.”

“Cheers,” I say.

I swirl the wine in my glass and inhale the rich perfumed scent it has. Then I take a sip.
Wow.
This wine is rich and smooth. Sumptuous.

And Niko scored a whole bunch of points with this selection.

“This is perfect,” I say, putting my wineglass down. “The details, please. And the thought process behind the selection.”

“You are drinking a malbec,” Niko explains, pausing to take a sip of his wine.

I arch an eyebrow at him as he sets his glass down. “Bold choice.”

“It suits you.”

“What? Why?”

“As a producer,” Niko says, his eyes locked on mine, “I’m trained to make quick assessments of situations. To anticipate things in the truck. So from what I know of you, you’re smart. Stylish. Bold. You don’t do the usual thing. So that’s why I chose malbec.”

Butterflies shift in my stomach in response to his words.

“You see me as bold?” I ask in disbelief. I’ve been described as many things—organized, funny, smart—but never bold.”

“I think it’s pretty bold to step into a workplace you’ve never been before and pretty much guarantee me a kick-ass open when you’ve never done one on a professional level before.”

I blush from his words, and he grins in response.

“Well, that was bold,” I admit, laughing.

“Bold is good,” Niko says, taking another sip of his wine.

“And so is the wine,” I say.

Niko leans further across the table. “I feel like I’m shouting at you to be heard in this place.”

I laugh. “I know, we kind of are.”

“There’s an independent coffee place down the street. Do you wanna head over there for a coffee?”

“But you just bought the wine,” I say, hating the idea of him throwing his money away like that.

Niko studies me from across the table. “I’d rather talk to you than drink wine. If you’re good with that, I mean.”

He wants to talk. Just like I’ve described in my dream first date, he wants to get a cup of coffee and get to know me.

“I’m more than good with that,” I say happily.

Niko slips into his suit jacket, and I slide into my camel-colored pea coat. He escorts me out of the club, through the nearly empty arena, and outside into the brisk November air.

“So has anyone from Total Access Total Sports contacted you?” Niko asks as we walk toward the coffee shop in the plaza next to the arena.

“No,” I say, biting my lip.

“
ΓΑΜΩΤΟ
!
”

“
What?
” I say, laughing.

Niko grins. “Sorry. Sometimes when I’m mad I slip into Greek. That was damn it.”

“Is someone going to?” I ask, hardly daring to hope.

Niko nods. “They were really impressed with your open. I know they could use freelance help. Wyatt was supposed to call you today.”

I stop walking. My heart stops. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” Niko says, gazing down at me. “But they will now because Tony Esposito saw your open on the truck and thought it was fantastic. I made sure to tell him you did it.”

“Thank you for doing that,” I say. “You didn’t have to.”

“Of course I did. I’d be an idiot not to, for my own reasons.”

His own reasons
. Could that possibly be more than work-related ones?

Niko’s eyes hold steady on mine as we stand on the sidewalk. Then he clears his throat, and the moment is over.

“It’s cold. Let’s get you inside before you freeze,” he says.

I’m anything but cold right now, but nod as though I am. As we walk to the café, I feel nothing but elated. Not only do I feel like I might have a chance with Niko here, but with Total Access Total Sports, too.

Niko opens the door to the coffee shop, and I step inside. The place is really cute, with rustic hardwood floors, cozy seating arrangements, and dim lighting. I’m greeted by the wonderful scent of freshly brewed coffee the second I pass through the door, which I love.

But the scent of coffee is nothing compared to Niko’s cologne that I’m inhaling right now as he moves behind me.

Oh, that cedar and spice scent is
so
sexy. Just like the man who’s wearing it.

“Gingerbread latte?” Niko asks, interrupting my thoughts.

I refocus on coffee, which takes almost superpower ability at this point.

“Yes, please.”

Niko steps up to the counter and places an order for one black coffee and my gingerbread latte. We move to the end of the counter and pick up our drinks when they’re ready. Then we find two armchairs in a corner of the café, perfect for an intimate conversation.

“This is better,” I say, wrapping my hands around the huge ceramic latte cup.

“Are your hands cold?” Niko asks.

I nod. “I always have cold hands.”

Niko places his cup on the little table between our chairs. “Give me one.”

“
What?
” I say, laughing.

Niko grins. “Come on, Lexi, trust me. Give me one of your hands.”

I bite my lip. I shouldn’t trust him. I don’t really know him yet. There’s still plenty of time for me to misread this whole thing, for him to want an editor and nothing more. And if that’s the case, I’m getting in over my head by letting him touch me.

But I do trust him.

I have no reason to, but my heart tells me I can.

So I put my cup down and extend my hand to him.

Niko gently places his hands over mine, and the second he does, I feel nothing but pure electricity inside of me. His hands are warm, and he gently rubs my hand in between his.

“Shit, Lexi, your hand is like ice,” Niko declares as he massages my hand.

I can’t speak. I swallow hard. This gesture—of him wanting to simply warm my hands because they are cold—tells me so much about the man he is.

“Okay, give me the other one,” Niko says.

I give him my left hand and now Niko warms that one.

“Thank you,” I say softly.

“You shouldn’t be cold,” Niko says, a protective tone entering his voice.

I don’t have any chance of leaving this coffee shop without falling madly for this man.

“Of course, when you’re working in the studio, you’ll need to get some fingerless gloves so you don’t get frostbite,” he continues.

I laugh. “Studios are always freezing. And I can only hope to freeze to death there soon.”

Niko releases my hand, and I pick up my cup again.

“Can you afford to do part-time work?” Niko asks, taking a sip of his coffee.

I hesitate before answering. Normally I might keep this under wraps, or wait until much longer to speak so personally, but when I look at Niko’s honest and genuine face, I feel safe.

Safe enough to tell the truth.

“I have a trust fund,” I say softly, taking a sip of my latte. I stare down at the foam in my cup. “Um . . . I’m adopted. My birth father sent me a check when I tried to contact him at sixteen. He sent it with a letter from his attorney, declining contact with me.” I look up at Niko and continue. “My birth parents were teens when they had me. My birth father is a success in Silicon Valley now and didn’t want his family life interrupted. So I guess you could say the money was encouragement to disappear.”

Niko is staring at me, an unreadable expression on his face.