I leaned into him and kept my voice low. “Fuck off, Jensen. Stop showing your ass and walk away. She’s done with you. Move the fuck on already.”
His nostrils flared and I braced for him to lash out at me with his fist or some bullshit out of his mouth. Fuck, he was a prick.
“Get out of here, Roger. This is my bar and you have no right coming in here and harassing my customers,” a man called out, stepping out from the end of the bar.
“Oh please, Randy,” Roger whined. “I’m just talking to Dani.”
“And I have no problem calling the cops,” Randy replied.
“Fine, play your game.” Roger took one step back. “We can talk about this later, Dani.” Then he turned to me. “And see you on the ice next week, Tucks. Can’t wait to hand you your ass again.”
At that, he stomped out of the bar like a petulant child who was also a raging asshole.
“Well, that was.” I paused. “Ah, are you okay?”
“You’re a hockey player?” she asked at the same time.
I hated how irritated she sounded when she said hockey. Guess we were one and done on that kiss.
I was just going to remind myself how it hadn’t been real or anything and completely ignore how I physically ached to do it again. Nope, none of that.
Fucking hell.
Chapter 2
DANI
Agoddamn hockey player—and a freaking goalie, on top of it.
I almost glanced at the ceiling and mutteredwhy. Why me?
And I’d kissed him. I clenched my fist, refusing to touch my still tingling lips. He had this whole boy-next-door thing going for him with that smile and adorable dimple and how his hair curled over his brow. And then he kissed like a man possessed and I’d never wanted to be possessed, but I might sign up for a free trial of that.
Fucking hell, my head was foggy.
Asking Gabe—no,Tucks—to kiss me had been completely out of character and, based on Roger’s delusional claims about us not being done, hadn’t completely worked. But at least he wasn’t still standing here and badgering me.
I sucked in a deep breath.
“Are you okay?” Gabe asked again, concern in his eyes. He leaned toward me, his arm still around my waist and his hand on my hip. As much as I’d wanted to lash out and try to punch Roger, having Gabe next to me had kept me grounded. And while knocking Roger out probably would’ve made me feel better, I definitely would’ve hurt my hand. Fucking hockey player strong jawline.
See? Now I was venturing into a rambling brain dump. It felt foreign and irritating as hell.
“Dani? You okay?” This time it was Miranda talking.
I glanced over at her. Her head was tilted to the side and she looked at me with both concern and humor. That last part was definitely because of my enthusiastic participation in kissing Gabe in front of everyone.
Embarrassment washed over me and my cheeks went pink. We’d definitely made a scene, and I hated that type of attention.
“That man is such an asshole,” Miranda said. “I’m glad he’s gone, and he better leave you alone.”
“So you’re one of the goalies for the Stampede? I knew you looked familiar,” Randy said, before turning to me. “Fuck, Dani. What the hell did you see in that guy?”
“A goalie too. What are the odds?” Miranda echoed.
“Are you okay?” Gabe asked again.
Fucking hell, it was extremely hard not to get taken in by his oceanic eyes behind those glasses. I pulled back. He was too close.
