Off Her Game (3 page)

“What? You don't like frozen yogurt?” Darren grinned. He rushed out of the car to open her door. She stared up at him, her hands on the steering wheel. “Oh, come on.”

“Darren—”

“Val, the least you can do is have some frozen yogurt with me.” He held out his hands to her.

“I don’t owe you anything, mister.”

“Please?” Val rolled her eyes as he put forth his best puppy dog look.

Groaning softly, she let him pull her from the car. “This is a bad idea.”

The warmth of him made her skin tingle. The contrast of skin color reminded her of the positive/negative assignments in art class, though. His Cuban heritage wasn’t about to provide the contrast needed for it.

Her heart skipped a beat, his palm flush against hers.

She’d never considered Darren as anything but a customer-turned-friend. But now, her body was doing internal somersaults just because he held her hand. What the hell was wrong with her? This was so not the time for crushes.

The shopping center was one of the older ones, a beige brick layer surrounding the entrances to all the businesses. The yogurt shop's sign was a brilliant light green with orange and yellows. Inside was like the outside, all bright colored accents and white furniture. A young girl, about sixteen or so, leaned against the counter with an issue of Seventeen open. She glanced up as they entered, and Val took great satisfaction in seeing the girl's eyes widen when they landed on Darren.

Darren didn't even seem to notice. He turned to Val with a mischievous smile. “Go sit.”

“Why?” She asked.

“Because I'm going to serve you,” he said, and pointed to the nearby empty table. “There. Go.” She opened her mouth to protest but he placed one finger over her mouth. “Please?”

She couldn't resist that plea. She released his hand and sat, trying to listen in but he looked at her, and started whispering and pointing. The girl smiled and giggled as she made two bowls up for them.

Darren said something to the girl that made her smile and blush. Val couldn’t blame her for that. She still blushed when Darren spoke to her too. She was just better at hiding it. The girl brought the two bowls to the register and weighed them. Darren paid the girl and gave her a gorgeous smile. The girl blushed again as he picked up the two bowls and placed one in front of her.

Val glanced down and giggled. “Purple sprinkles?”

“What? You don't like?”

“It's wonderful.” She smiled warmly at him, warm fuzzies settling deep in her toes. “Thank you.”

She hadn't thought that Darren could get better, but somehow he had. So as she dug into her purple sprinkled sundae, she kept that in mind. He was gorgeous. He was athletic, and he came up with the best frozen yogurt sundaes.

“No problem. We could both use a distraction today.”

Wasn’t he supposed to be drunk? He wasn’t acting drunk. In fact, he seemed downright charming.

“I heard about your job.” Her smile faded a little, but she was sure it hadn't disappeared entirely.

“How?”

“I have my sources. You didn’t say anything.”

She shrugged. “I'm okay.”

“You don't seem okay.”

She studied him for a moment, but she didn't see anything except genuine concern from him. Her world was up in the air and her favorite customer saw that.

“You know, it's okay if you aren't cool with being laid off,” Darren said. “It sucks.”

Val chuckled. “How would you know, Darren? Even if you stopped working tomorrow, you'd be set for life.”

“I wasn't always paid this well,” Darren said.

“Well, you are now,” she said. “You know, all I've ever wanted is to have some measure of control over my life. I had a job I loved, even if it didn't pay well. And because donations were down, because politics force out the funding, my job, my livelihood gets cut.” She erected an imaginary wall between her eyes and her tears, trying to keep from losing control. She couldn’t let that happen in front of Darren.

When his hand covered hers, she stared into those chocolate eyes and felt like she could get lost in them. So clear, so genuine. Like she could have trusted him with the world.

“Val, I know your job was important to you. I didn't mean to bring you here so you could wallow in its loss.” He sighed as his fingers tightened around hers. “I just wanted to forget this day ever happened.”

A small smile crept up on her face. “Do you miss her?”

“Angela? Hell no.” He leaned away, and let go of her hand. “I’m more angry at her for lying than hurt. At least now she won’t be able to keep spending my retirement money.”

He looked a bit bothered, trailing off into quiet for a moment. They ate frozen yogurt in silence for a while, then he finally struck up more conversations about safer subjects. They talked about food for a while, her fascination with the color purple, and his early days as a Mighty Mites hockey player as a child.

“So what about you? Any kids?”

Valerie's head snapped up from her nearly finished yogurt. Darren looked intently at her, waiting for her response. “Uh, no. No kids. I can barely take care of myself.”

“I find that hard to believe,” he replied. “You seem to have everything under control.”

“Control is a fickle thing.” She smiled tightly. “You can think you have everything in hand, but in one second, it'll all be gone.” She met Darren's clear eyes with a steady resolve. “This is why I won't have kids. There's no control where kids are concerned. Their very nature defies it. They're chaotic.”

“So, never any kids for you?” he asked, surprised. “I thought every woman wanted kids.”

“I'm not saying ‘never.’ But they require planning, and I'm not at a stage in my life where kids are an option.” She paused. “Especially now. There's no way I could afford a child on a cocktail waitress pay.” Valerie frowned as she tried to put how she felt into words. “I work with girls every day—I did work with them anyway—that made poor choices, and ended up with a baby they weren't ready to have. I can't be that girl. I won't.”

He smiled. “I didn't realize how passionate you were about this.”

“I probably come off as preachy.” She laughed nervously. “That's what the girls tell me all the time.”

“You like things the way you like them,” Darren replied. “I can understand that. I'm right there with you.”

He leaned toward her, over the table, and their empty yogurt bowls. His aftershave tickled her nose, her heart thudded as he came closer. Their lips touched, gently, almost like he was afraid she'd push him away. God knew, she should have. She was losing herself here. With every magical touch of his lips, she was losing more of her resolve.

The shrill tone of the standard ringer broke the magic spell he held over her. Both of them jumped apart in surprise. Darren met her eyes and she marveled at the fire inside them. The room was at least twenty degrees too warm, the air so thin suffocation was imminent.

“Yeah?” He didn't take his eyes off her as he answered his phone, running his tongue over his bottom lip as he listened. “Gavin, I don’t have my car right now. I can’t… What about a cab? …Alright, alright, calm down. Okay, just stay put.” He hit the button on the phone and looked at Val, an apology already in his eyes. “Val—”

“You have to go?” she asked. “Is there a problem?”

“It's Misha and Gavin. Gavin’s car broke down and they don’t have a way back home. And there’s a bunch of media downtown covering the concert’s after party tonight. Misha’s trashed and Gavin doesn’t want him to be seen drunk again. The press had a field day with him last time.”

“And you want me to—”

“If it won’t—”

“It’s cool. I’ll take you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Tell your friends we’ll come get them.”

Darren gave her the most grateful look he could muster and spoke into the phone. Within a few minutes, he had Misha’s location and hung up.

“He’ll hang tight for a few extra minutes.” He frowned as he covered her hand with his. “I was hoping we'd have more time together.”

“It's okay,” she said, standing up, and pulling her hand away. His shoulders visibly slumped. “You should take care of your friends.”

They walked back to her little red car and she immediately wondered how two more hockey players, who were probably the size of Darren would fit in her backseat. She pursed her lips together and sat down in the driver’s seat. This was going to be interesting.

***

They rode in silence, broken only by Darren's directions. He led them downtown, through crowded streets. Main Street was home to dozens of bars, each trying to stand out in their own ways, with glittering lights, and neon signs.

Close to the university, the bar scene catered to the younger crowds. He had a feeling the university was what had attracted Jenkins to the city. Fort Glasgow, like the rest of Texas, had not been a hockey town and still wasn’t, but catering to the college scene had filled the arena seats at the Fort Glasgow Convention Center.

Darren popped his knuckles and leaned back in his seat. Disappointment coursed through his system. They'd been having a good time until Gavin called. Not that he ever minded going to get his teammates when they'd been drinking, but this time, he'd let himself get drunk too. He'd almost managed to forget that his divorce finalized today in the process. Almost. But not quite.

“Thanks for doing this, Val,” Darren said. “I know I've been a pain tonight.”

The buzz he'd had at the bar had lasted about halfway through the yogurt shop. Then the guilt at making Val do things when she could have just gone home set in, weighing his shoulders down. He was so going to kick Cody’s ass, as soon as he knew that Joey was okay.

“It's not a problem,” she assured him.

Silence fell over them again, awkward quiet enveloping them in the small confines of Val's car. His lips were still warm from the kiss they'd shared. Was she thinking about that kiss? She gave no outside impression that she was at all.

He saw the bar Gavin had told him about. As promised, both he and Misha were outside. Gavin had a steady hand on Misha's shoulder, like he was reassuring himself that Misha hadn't gone anywhere.

“There.” He pointed to them. “Can you pull up there?”

She nodded and the car came to a stop by the pair. Darren glanced at Val. “I will make this up to you. I promise.”

She smiled weakly, her attention on the two men outside her car. He wasn't sure if it was annoyance or just that she was uncomfortable. He hadn't thought about it, but she didn't really know the rest of the team. Sure they came in to drink sometimes, but that bar was his domain mostly. Had he managed to put her in a situation she wasn’t comfortable with? He didn’t like that idea.

He got out of the car when she didn't answer and shut the door behind him. The street was much noisier outside the car, horns and screeching tires, the loud voices of the crowds around them.

Misha stumbled as Gavin steered him toward the car. Darren caught his other arm. “Mish, man... What did I tell you about the drinking?”

“To do more?” Misha's chuckle even sounded slurred. “
Kochu napitsya.
”

Darren sighed, heavy with exasperation. He looked at Gavin. “You didn't stop him?”

“He broke up with that one chick.”

“That one chick” was the girlfriend of the month, a reporter Misha had met during his last endorsement deal.

“Jesus, Gav. Where's Cody?”

“He had to take Joey to the hospital again. That’s when I called you. I told him I would find a ride back.”

Darren shook his head as he opened the door and unceremoniously shoved Misha into the back seat. Heat rose to his head, the pressure building between his eyes. He was going to kill Cody. The rookie flopped across the seat. Gavin got in after him and shut the door.

Getting in the front, he turned his torso toward the center of the car. “Guys, this is Valerie. Val, the drunken mess there is the rookie Misha Kozlov. The Italian sonovabitch is Gavin Ferrara.”

“Heelllooooo,” Misha crooned, sloppily sitting up. “
Ti vyerish v lyubov s pyervovo vzglyada?
”

“Just sit back and shut up before you hurt yourself, Misha,” Gavin sighed and pushed Misha back to the seat. “Nice to meet you, ma'am.”

Val blinked, like she didn't know what to say. Then a weak “Hi” left her lips as she turned back to face the wheel. “Where am I taking them?”

“Do you know where the Coventry is?” Darren asked her.

She nodded. “That's off I-75, yes?”

“Yup, that's it.” Gavin said. “We appreciate the ride. I'll get you back, anytime.”

“That's okay. It's better than you guys driving under the influence or something.” Val seemed to relax a little as she pulled out on to the highway. Misha started rambling about blondes that didn't know what they wanted, or at least that’s what she thought it was. He kept slipping between English and Russian. It didn't last long. In a few minutes, he was passed out, his lax head swaying with the movement of the car.

Gavin looked out the window, content not to say anything as they drove. Darren knew something was bothering him, but Gavin didn't talk unless he wanted to, and it probably wasn't something he wanted to talk about in front of female company anyway.

He reached over to Val, almost tentatively, and touched the back of her hand. Her back straightened visibly but she didn't look at him, so he left his hand covering hers. That kiss still tingled across his lips.

***

Darren skated to the bench as Coach Rogers called his name, abruptly turning his skates so he sprayed the boards with ice and stopped in front of his coach.

“Looking good, Moran,” Rogers said, looking down at his clipboard. He tapped his pen on the clipboard and glanced up. “You feeling good?”

“Better than I was a few months ago,” Darren replied honestly. A few months ago, he was focusing on getting drunk and trying to fight in the bars.

“That's good. You know I need you this year, Moran. The team needs you... focused and in top form.”

“Yeah,” Darren nodded. He resisted the urge to look away. “I know.”

He hadn't played well last season. It was a product of his impending divorce. Hell, the night he'd caught his wife with the landscaper, he'd gotten a one game suspension for game misconduct. He still said the guy deserved the hit.