Page 39 of A Vegas Crush Collection #2

And there it is. The thought I haven’t voiced. To anyone.

Parker pulls me into her arms for another long hug.

She says, “That’s a very valid thought and I’ll bet he thinks it even more than you do.

I think you need to go talk to someone about your PTSD.

But I also think you need to forgive Boris.

I think you need to forgive him and let him love you the way you deserve to be loved.

He seems like a great guy with a huge heart. We should all be so lucky.”

I know she’s right. He’s tried to apologize a million times. He feels guilty about what happened, that he totally blames himself. But really, how could he have known who these guys were? They took advantage of him in every possible way. I have to let this go. I have to get past it.

Perhaps the hardest thing about being fast-tracked through school and college was always feeling out of my depth.

So young. Excluded. Emotionally behind. I never learned to read social cues well, because all the girls in particular, were far more worldly and never helped me get past that.

Part of the leftover fear has inhibited me in forming relationships.

Ultimately, though, I didn’t read Boris wrong.

He never played with me or my feelings, or misled me.

I know that now. But a week ago, I was locked in my darkness, fearing what other things could go wrong in my life.

So, before that could happen, I pushed one of the few very good things in my life away.

But if he has forgiven my behavior, I can see that it’s time for me to do the same.

After all, he too was thrust into an adult world much younger than he was ready for.

Largely, he rose above that and became a man of compassion, empathy, and honor.

And I am completely and utterly in love with him.

I turn back and snap a picture of the huge poster and then text it to Boris.

Talia: I’m here with Parker and can’t wait for the Quidditch match to begin.

Talia: Hope you catch the golden snitch.

Boris: ??

Talia: It’s a Harry Potter reference.

Boris: I do not know Harry Potter.

Talia: There is no possible way you have never heard of Harry Potter. Have you lived under a rock?

Boris: Still no.

Talia: This isn’t happening. There’s no way I can be in love with someone who doesn’t know about Harry Potter.

Boris: Are you saying you’re in love with me?

Talia: If I was???

Boris: I would be a very happy man.

Talia: Well, be happy then. And go light the lamp for me, because I’ll be in the stands cheering for my dragon man tonight.

Parker and I have the best seats, right behind the Crush penalty box.

There’s a huge pre-game show and the arena feels electric as a video plays, showing highlights from the preseason games.

The music is loud, so loud that the bass rattles in my chest. Parker and I drink beer and eat pizza and dance, and when they finally announce the team, we go crazy, screaming and cheering, particularly for a certain star forward.

The team skates around the ice and I can tell Boris is looking for me.

I get worried that maybe he won’t recognize me with my hair in braids, but then realize my black glasses probably mark me, no matter what I wear.

He sees me on the second pass, a grin breaking out on his amazingly handsome face.

Butterflies are all up in my stomach at the sight of him.

I blow him a kiss and he smiles even wider.

“Goddamn,” Parker says, fanning herself. “That was some crazy chemistry I just witnessed.”

“He’s—“ I don’t even finish the thought, instead shaking my head and blowing a big breath out by puffing my cheeks.

“Yep,” Parker says. She gets me.

Boris just scored his second goal of the night. He’s a machine. The team is a machine. The words ICE DRAGON are up on the jumbotron, with a crazy graphic of a dragon with a face that looks oddly like a mix of him and the tattoo that snakes up his arm.

“That’s my man,” I yell. Parker and I are arm in arm, jumping up and down like we just met the Beatles or something.

“That’s your man,” she yells.

The game has been fast and furious, with the opposing team out for blood.

They want to prove that the Crush are all hype, but the Crush have played with pride, allowing only one goal to their three.

Big Viktor Demoskev is a wall of defensive strength.

Parker swoons over him, but I elbow her and inform her, “He’s engaged to Scarlett…

who happens to be six months pregnant.” I make a pregnant belly gesture with my hands.

“She’s sweet. I met her in the First Wives Club at the other game. ”

“Boo, all the good ones are taken,” she says, pouting.

“There’s a single guy for ya.” I point out Tyler and tell her he will definitely flirt with her if she wants him to. “He thinks flirting with random women is his superpower.”

“I won’t complain if he comes along with us after the game, he’s hot!

” Later when he gets the final goal for the Crush, deflected off his stick to go five-hole (between the goalie’s legs) from a slap shot by Boris no less, she is jumping up and down like a lunatic cheering for him.

The jumbotron shows a replay of his goal and LOCKHARDT LOCKS IT DOWN blasted across the screen over his celly (celebration after scoring) while the thundering crowd nearly brings the walls down it’s so insanely loud.

The post-game celebration is just as wild.

The noise is ridiculous, my ears ringing from all the screaming.

I text Boris to remind him about Parker being here with me and if he could ask Tyler to come by and meet her after they are finished.

He tells me it’s a done deal already and to wait for them outside the south entrance.

About a half hour later, he comes out showered and looking damn fine in his blue pinstripe Euro-cut suit paired with brown loafers.

His still damp hair is slightly mussed, upping his hotness quotient again—if that’s even possible.

Teammate Tyler looks just as fancy in his window-pane gray suit and purple shirt.

Hockey players are quite the clothes horses, but I’m just here to watch and learn.

“Boris, I’d like to formally introduce you to my best friend in all the world, Parker Reaves. Parker, meet Boris, also known as the Ice Dragon.”

They shake hands and then Boris introduces Tyler to Parker, who promptly gives her a kiss to the cheek before turning to me. “Hot librarian, it’s good to see you again.”

“You as well,” I say as Boris reaches out to take my hand in his.

He tells Tyler and Parker to lead the way, as we start to walk in the vague direction of the Strip.

I have no idea where we’re going and really, I don’t care because I just need to spend some time with Boris.

It feels like a month since I’ve seen him, but it’s only been one week.

A painfully horrible, long, torturous week though.

We fall back a bit from Parker and Tyler who seem to have hit it off as they chat away like they’ve known each other for ages.

“You wore the jacket.” He looks down at me and squeezes my hand. “You came to be my good luck charm when I needed you. It means a lot.”

“I’m so sorry, Boris, for pushing you away. It wasn’t right for me to do it that way. Forgive me—“

“No, I should be sorry. I feel sick about how fast I rushed things with you and pushed you. And the way I behaved at your office, I wasn’t myself that day.”

“Well, the office sex wasn’t so bad.” I’m grinning.

“Honestly, I just didn’t know where to put all the feelings, you know?

There was so much intensity and I just…I hadn’t really dealt with the thing that happened, and then you were saying the L word, and then there’s the part about you being so honorable and so good that I wasn’t sure I was good enough for you. ”

He looks utterly shocked. “You didn’t think you were good enough for me?

Talia, I am just a hockey player. You are a highly educated, highly successful, genius financial planner.

You are smart and sexy and bold and exciting.

I’m a really, really boring dude, and I can barely read.

If anyone’s not good enough in this relationship, it’s me. ”

A weird laugh pops out of me. “Umm, no. Just say no to that noise, Boris. You are in no way boring. Not to me or to anyone for that matter. Have you seen the ginormous poster of your hot self on the side of the arena? Sweet Christ, every woman in Vegas probably wants you.”

“They want the idea of me,” he says. “They want to have sex with a pro athlete. They never cared to get to know me, so those sorts of women have never held my interest. You? You interest me. You have a bright mind. You have things to say. You have respect for yourself.”

“Well, they can’t have you anyway, because you’re mine.” I stop and turn slightly to show him the back of the jacket. “I’ve got your name on my back to prove—“

He shuts me up with a blistering kiss and then takes his time kissing me more slowly until I’m breathless and more than a little wobbly on my strappy red heels.

When wolf whistles ring out around us, we start walking again, hand in hand a few more blocks until Tyler leads us into a smallish bar with a live band.

There are lots of people in Crush gear and they all want selfies and autographs with Tyler and Boris.

Tyler seems to love the attention, while Boris seems to simply tolerate it.

Eventually though, we’re able to sit down in a booth.

“I have one serious question,” Boris says to the group once we’ve each got a beer. “Who the hell is Harry Potter?”

We all burst out laughing. Parker says, “The boy who lived?”

Boris looks woefully confused.

Tyler says, “Dude, it’s a book series about a bunch of kid wizards. It’s an international phenomenon.”