Seduced by the Game (13 page)

She laughed again and
yanked it on. Perfect. It fit like a gl—er, hockey jersey. A wee bit loose, but
pretty much the right size since she usually wore a sweatshirt underneath so
she wouldn’t freeze in the arena. Feeling silly but not able to resist, Hannah
went into her bedroom to check out the jersey in the full-length mirror,
turning around to look at the back as well. While she knew she shouldn’t let it
cloud her judgment, Hannah couldn’t help but be charmed.
Man, am I in
trouble.

Chapter Three

Scott flew around the ice
in the game-day skate, the sheer joy of playing blocking out most everything
but Hannah’s response to his gift. He couldn’t wait to get back to the dressing
room to check his phone. The gift shop worker he’d bribed into bringing the
jersey to Hannah should be back by now. Yes, it was a hugely risky move which
could be misinterpreted as arrogant, especially for a woman he’d known only a
short while, but it felt right. He hoped Hannah would take the gift as what it
was—a display of his affection. Seeing her in his jersey would definitely get
his blood pumping; he would readily admit that. But it wasn’t some caveman-like
need to mark her that had driven him to make the purchase.

After the skate was over,
Scott lumbered right into the private dressing area and tossed his gross,
sweaty gloves on the floor. Grabbing the phone, he unlocked it and grinned when
he saw he had a text message. Sure, it might not be from Hannah, but Scott had
a feeling it was. How could she ignore his gift?

And she hadn’t. Scott
actually noticed his facial muscles stretching as his smile became wider.

Scott-Thank you so much
for the jersey. The only one I’ve ever had is Darren’s, and it was actually my
sister’s. I will wear it with pride.

The thought of Hannah
wearing
only
his jersey, spread out on his bed with her hair fanned out
over his pillow had his dick hardening inside his cup. That wasn’t a
comfortable situation, and Scott forced his thoughts to less dirty topics,
composing a text back to Hannah.

I’d like you to come see
me play. I know tonight is probably short notice, but soon. Maybe this weekend?

Though he was loath to
wait until then, Scott figured if Hannah came to a weekend game he could take
her out after that, then with any luck, bring her back to his place and have
more wild monkey lovin’.

Ow ow ow. Need to get out
of this cup before I think any more about Hannah.

Scott put his phone down,
reached to the floor to pick up his gloves, and went to take a shower. He
needed to eat and get home for his pregame nap. Sleep didn’t always come, but
if not, he’d read or just lie there in bed.

Later, Scott was a starter
during the game, and as the centerman, he took the opening faceoff. To his
chagrin, he lost it, and Scott immediately went into defensive mode as the
league’s best player – a man who Scott had fed for a goal during the recent
All-Star Game, streaked down the wing toward the Stingray’s goaltender.
Luckily, the man threw his blocker up and deflected the puck to the corner,
where Scott and a teammate fought for it against a couple of opposing players.

Scott came out of the fray
with the puck and an elbow to the kidneys for his trouble. He tried to school
his grimace of pain and passed the puck off before turning and laying a good
cross-check on the culprit. The ref was watching the play as it advanced, and
Scott let out a relieved breath he hadn’t been called for a penalty. He hated
taking penalties and was one of the least-penalized players in the league, but
sometimes a guy had to stand up for himself.

He hauled ass to catch up
with the other forwards and his winger must’ve caught sight of him going to the
net because the next thing he knew, a saucer pass was on his stick and he shot.
The puck hit the post with a loud ping and careened to the left, where one of
the Stingrays’ defensemen had moved up on the play and was now camped right
outside the crease. He tangled with an opposing player, but managed to reach
out and push the puck past the goal line. The red light went on and Scott let
out a whoop.

As he sat on the bench a
few moments later, he wondered if Hannah was watching. Was she wearing his
jersey? She hadn’t responded to his return text, and Scott was starting to
worry he’d come on too strong. There was nothing he could do about it now,
though, so like the professional athlete he was, Scott put it out of his mind
and concentrated on the game.

The teams traded goals
back and forth until near the end of regulation when it was 3-3. The Stingrays
had a busy week, and what with the All-Star Game making
his
particular
week even more hectic, Scott didn’t relish the idea of sudden death overtime.
His coach barked out his line would be next, and a few seconds later Scott
jumped over the boards, heading for the play on the other side of the ice. One
of the wingers from the other line was battling it out by the penalty boxes
with two opposing players, and Scott flew in to even things up.

When the puck finally
landed on his stick, Scott sent it into their offensive zone and the member of
his line who’d managed to get on the ice along with him took the pass and
weaved around a defenseman, using him as nothing more than a pylon. Even as
Scott admired his teammate’s fancy footwork, he felt the burn in his legs as he
moved himself into position to receive a pass. As expected, the guy gave the
puck to him, and out of the corner of his eye, Scott spotted the third member
of his line, finally coming onto the ice as the player from the last line left
it.

He sent the puck back
toward the blue line and his teammate skated into it, taking a huge slap shot.
The goalie didn’t have a chance, and with a little more than two minutes left
to play, the Stingrays went up 4-3. That’s how the game ended after a
hard-fought remaining regulation time, and Scott went back to the locker room,
his mood improved since they hadn’t had to play overtime.

Though he was itching to
get to his phone, Scott was obliged to answer a multitude of questions from the
New York-area media. It was a good twenty-five minutes after the game before he
was able to step into the shower. The hot water felt good on his aching
muscles, and Scott debated a quick dip in the hot tub before getting dressed,
but then decided he’d take a detour through the dressing area and scope out his
phone first. He felt like a thirteen-year-old girl checking his messages so
obsessively, but that didn’t stop him.

There was a message from
Hannah.

Nice pass. I was out
earlier but saw the end of the game. Saturday is the only night I’m free. Is
that game okay to come to?

Hell yeah, it was okay
with him. But then Scott debated. Should he try to see her before then?

Sounds great. How about
dinner or something Wednesday? I’m off and will want to relax.

His phone rang in his hand
and Scott jumped, nearly dropping it, then glanced around quickly to make sure
none of his teammates had seen him looking like a complete idiot.

“Hello?”

“Scott? It’s Hannah. I
figured this might be easier.” There was a slight pause and then Hannah asked,
“Are you in the locker room? I can hear some strange noises in the background.
I don’t even want to think about what might be making sounds like that if
you’re not. It reminds me of a herd of moose or something. Pretty weird through
the phone.”

He laughed. “Yeah, they’re
strange all right. My teammates are a unique bunch, let’s just put it that
way.”

“I heard that,” one of
them called out from around the corner.

“I wasn’t trying to be
quiet,” Scott shot back. Returning his attention to Hannah, he said, “I’ll
leave two tickets at will call for you on Saturday. Bring your sister.”

“I was actually thinking
about bringing another friend.”

Scott’s danger radar went
up. “A male friend?”

Now Hannah laughed.
“Worried?”

“A little bit, yes,” he
admitted. He wasn’t sure if he should’ve laid his cards out like that, but with
Hannah it seemed like he couldn’t do anything else.

“Don’t fret. My friend
Bethany likes hockey and doesn’t have enough money to go to many games. I
thought it would be a nice night out for her.”

“Oh, definitely. Glad I
can help then.” Scott wasn’t sure what current ticket prices were, but since he
played in Manhattan he could imagine they weren’t cheap. Taking a deep breath,
he asked, “What about dinner?”

He shivered when a blast
of cold air went through the room and glanced down at himself in surprise since
he was rarely, if ever, chilly. Then Scott rolled his eyes as he remembered he
was still standing there in a towel and his shower shoes. Yeah, maybe he
should’ve changed before picking up the phone to text.

“I can do dinner Wednesday
night, but it would have to be early. I have a presentation the next day, and I
don’t want to be yawning all over everyone while I’m in the middle of it.” She
cleared her throat. “And I can’t stay. Just dinner.”

“Got it.”

“I’ll take a train in and
meet you at the restaurant. Where did you want to go?”

“Are you sure? I can come
out to you. I have a car.”

“No need. There are tons
of places in Manhattan I haven’t tried.”

“Is the train safe at
night?”

“Listen to you, all
concerned. Yes, the train is safe. I take it all the time since I don’t own a
car. Now, where are you going to take me?”

Scott panicked
momentarily. He hadn’t even thought of a place to suggest. “What kind of food
do you like?”

“Not a huge fan of spicy,
so probably not Mexican or Indian or anything like that. I like Italian. I like
sushi. I dunno. What do you like?”

“Sushi sounds good.
There’s a place not far from my apartment. It’s called Fumé.”

“Works for me. Meet you
there at five thirty?”

“I’ll look forward to it.”
Lowering his voice, he then said, “Good night, Hannah. Sleep well.”

“You too.”

He hung up and popped the
phone back into his locker, dropping the towel to get dressed. No point in
going over to the hot tub now since he’d let his muscles get cold again after
the shower, and his body had dried while he’d been talking to Hannah. Soon he
was on his way back to his apartment, thinking of other things they could do.
Yes, New York boasted thousands of fabulous restaurants, but that wouldn’t be a
very creative date if they did it over and over again.

Idly he wondered if she’d
ever been on one of those carriage rides through Central Park. Normally he
stayed away from the tourist attractions in the area, but for Hannah he was
willing to do just about anything. Scott wasn’t completely sure if that made
him pussy whipped already, but if so, he was okay with that.

* * * *

On Wednesday, Hannah was
late getting to Fumé because she’d taken time to look it up on the internet and
to take a quick shower. It took her fifteen minutes to decide what to wear as
she vacillated between casual and semi-dressy. Finally, she ended up with a
jean skirt with tights and boots, along with a light blue sweater, kind of
halfway between her choices.

Scott was standing near
the front door, chatting with the hostess as she fawned all over him, finding
ways to touch him. He appeared friendly, but was plainly not responding to her
attentions. A quick hit of pride coursed through her.
Yeah, he’s mine. Hands
off.
She wasn’t used to feeling jealous, but supposed if she kept dating
Scott that kind of thing was going to happen more and more.

When she approached him,
he turned to her, his face lighting up with a genuine smile. The hostess
glowered. “There you are. I was getting worried you’d stood me up.”

She smirked. “I doubt
you’ve been stood up in your entire life.”

His smile widened. “Always
a first time.  Our table is ready.” The hostess led them toward the back of the
restaurant, and Scott guided Hannah with his hand between her shoulder blades.
It was a little set apart from the others, and Hannah imagined he often got the
best table in the house. He helped her into her seat, asking, “so are you ready
for your presentation?”

“I think so. I don’t do a
lot of these in my position, but it does help to be able to add some cool
graphics. Presentations can be pretty boring.”

“I can imagine. That’s one
of things hockey players luckily see little of, though the league does like
sending out PowerPoints when they make rule changes and stuff. They’re usually
pretty dry, and we’re all struggling to stay awake by the end.”

“That sounds just like Corporate
America.”

The server appeared then,
and Scott ordered a nice white wine to go with the sushi, instead of the more
usual sake. It was dry and soft with a hint of floral bouquet, and she swirled
it in her mouth to enjoy the first clean taste. She noticed Scott did the same.

Hannah nodded toward his
glass. “You like wine?”