Page 8

Her face falls, and her cheeks blush. “Wow. You’re used to this.”
Her dismissive tone kills my amusement. “I had a girlfriend in high school. Did you not have a boyfriend who gave you his clothes to wear?”
Something passes through her eyes. Sadness or regret? “No.” She sets the water bottle on the end table. “Sorry, I should go.”
She moves to grab her shoes, but I snatch them and hold them out of reach.
“Why? You haven’t eaten yet.”
“I… This… No.” She draws a shaky inhale. “You’re too intimidating. Emily was right. I’m not your type. You won’t like me, and I’m not going to sleep with you. There’s no point.”
Wow, that’s a lot of word garbage. For someone so attractive, she’s incredibly anxious. Not mere shyness—no, there’s an aura of hopelessness surrounding her, something I’m all too familiar with.
“Why won’t I like you? I liked you the moment I saw you.”
Her eyes flicker to the door. “I’m… No. This is too much, and I work early in the morning.”
She reaches for her shoes, and I hide them behind my back.
“Where do you work?”
Her tiny fists clench her skirt, and she lifts her chin. “Nowhere. Now give me my shoes.”
Oh boy, even her temper is adorable.
“You work with Emily, right? That’s why you were with the rookie?”
And why she became uncomfortable when I asked how long they’d been together.
“Yes,” she urges, as if that’ll push me away.
If it was anyone else, she’d be out the door, but the skittish girl in front of me isn’t a professional escort. She’s too nervous and inexperienced. Any other escort or puck bunny would be thrilled to land a professional athlete. They’d be moved in and planning our wedding already.
Yet Aurora watches the door as if gauging whether she can outrun me.
She can’t. I’m the fastest player in the league. She won’t make it two steps before I tackle her to the floor.
Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.
“How long have you been escorting?”
“A month.”
“How many dates have you been on?”
“Six.”
My jaw drops. “In a month?”
“One guy booked me three times.”
“I’m sure he did. Did you go home with him?”
She scowls. “No.”
“To a hotel? Anywhere?”
“If you’re asking if I sleep with my clients, the answer is no. My contract is strictly dating. I giggle and flirt.” She shrugs, half-assed. “It’s been easy…until tonight.”