Her lip pushed out in a mock pout, and he laughed. “Fine. Yes, it’s difficult. Now, how did you get into food styling?”
Emma filled the last few minutes to the Ice Centre explaining how she started at the University of Calgary studying marketing, then fell into food styling while on a summer internship.
Tyler pulled into the parking lot. Seven-twenty, not bad. Their game wasn’t until eight-fifteen, but most of the guys arrived early to suit up and get on the ice at least a half hour before to warm up.
He parked in a spot near the back of the first row. When he reached to turn off the truck, Emma’s hand shot out and landed on his arm. His muscles tensed as his stomach dropped through his seat.
She pulled back and swallowed hard. “Can we sit here and talk for a second? Before we go in there?”
* * *
Emma's heart raced as Tyler unclicked his seatbelt and turned toward her. It had been doable to talk with him on the way over. Not easy, since the smell of his cologne was reminiscent of Cool Waters, which reminded her of every hot guy she’d pined after in the late nineties, but doable.
Now he was looking straight at her, and the console of his truck didn’t seem appropriately wide enough. She pressed her back up against the passenger door and fiddled with the edge of her fingernail. “I didn’t know—I mean, we’re just going to stand there and pretend to be talking or something, right? You could put your arm around me just for a second—it can be subtle.”
He blinked, slow like a cat and Emma’s mouth went dry. “Subtle. You think that will make your point?”
Was it possible for her heart to explode? It happened to rabbits. They got too worked up and just died right there on the spot. She pulled at the collar of her coat, then turned to open her door. “Sorry, I think I’m getting overheated.”
Tyler turned off the truck and opened his door, then stepped out into the parking lot and grabbed his bag, skates, and stick from the backseat. “It’s fine. We can head in and hang out in the atrium. When Sean comes in, we’ll give him a show.” He slung the bag over his shoulder, pulling his athletic-fit Henley even tighter across his broad chest.
He nodded toward the Ice Centre and turned. Emma slammed the truck door closed and ran after him. “What kind ofshow, Tyler?”
He shrugged, his legs too long for her to keep up without nearly jogging. “We’ll just see what happens.”
See what happens?This felt like the exact wrong moment to fly by the seat of their pants. Her pulse shot up another few beats per minute. This was a terrible plan. They were going to be standing in the foyer where anyone could see them, not just Sean. She could have gone to Sunday Supper or something and forced him to talk with her after everyone left.
But that was just it. They’d talked about this before, and he always said he’d mind his own business, but then he made comments like “keep it in your pants” at the pub after the game.
“Emma?” Tyler stood holding the front door. She drew a deep breath and walked past him. He seemed totally fine with all this. More than fine. He was grinning at her.
“You think this is funny?” she hissed when he stopped next to her and dropped his bag.
Tyler tried to stifle a laugh and failed. “It is kind of funny. You look like you’re going to throw up.”
Emma pulled off her coat and draped it over the arm of the couch against the wall. “Unlike some people, I don’t go around doing this with random guys.”
Tyler propped up his stick and set his skates on top of his bag, then crossed his arms over his chest. Emma tried to keep her eyes from dropping to his pecs and failed. “Doing what?”
“You know. This.”
“No, I don’t know because it feels like you’re accusing me of going around pretending to be in relationships with people on a regular basis.”
Emma tucked her hair behind her ears. “Not pretending to be in a relationship, but you’rewithdifferent people. Women—I’m not—” Tyler raised an eyebrow, and she groaned, turning to face the wall. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—I’m just nervous.”
Tyler’s hand landed on her back. “In case you’ve forgotten, this was your idea. We don’t have to do this. I’m happy to help you with Sean, but if you’d rather—”
Emma whipped back around, not thinking about the fact that Tyler’s hand wouldn’t move with her. She looked down at his hand now cupped over her bra. He yanked his hand back as her skin lit on fire.
“That probably would’ve convinced him,” Tyler muttered, holding his hand out as if it had been accidentally peed on.
Emma ignored the sweat forming under her clothes and clenched her hands into fists. “We are going to do this. It’s five minutes of our lives, and then I can talk with Sean after the game and I’ll never text people after midnight again.” Tyler wasn’t looking at her. “Tyler—”
His arm curled around her waist like a snap bracelet and pulled her flush against his body. She’d barely processed her sudden change of location when Tyler tipped her chin up. Without a word, he slipped his fingers down the side of her neck and kissed her.
ChapterEight
This waswhen she would die.It wasn’t possible for a heart to pump this fast and not burst. It wasn’t possible for a man to smell this good. To taste this good.
