Page 8 of Icing the Cougar (Hockey USA Collection #7)
Trinity
The back of my right thigh looks like Mars: bright, red, and the most conspicuous thing in the solar system.
I can feel it there, daring me to cover it up, reminding me how it got there.
Hickeys should have a statute of limitations, but Jasper has never been one to play by the rules.
Still, it might be smart to break things off before I get in any deeper, before I’m addicted to his energy and don’t care who knows it.
He’s young. Impulsive. Self-centered. I’m in the middle of this convincing lie when I get his text.
The damn hickey is practically texting back for me.
Jasper: Are we still on for tonight?
Maybe it's my responsible side finally showing up, but I hesitate to answer. These last few yoga sessions have turned into something steamy and new and completely reckless. I’m a woman in my mid-thirties, getting involved with a hotshot hockey player who's probably just looking for a good time.
Despite the fact that I'm letting him leave me marked like a teenager on prom night.
He could break my heart, that annoying sensible voice in my head pipes up. Or worse, he could bore me. Which I don’t think would be possible.
I sigh and stare at the screen.
Me: I don’t see why we should meet up tonight.
The three dots blink, and it’s like he’s standing here smirking at me. I glance at the thigh-shaped planet once more before throwing on some clothes and walking out the door.
His response comes a minute later.
Jasper: You will.
I take a deep breath. Okay. Date. One night.
However, I could epically crash and burn. One romantic minute with Jasper, and I’ll want a lifetime of this breathless feeling.
It'll never work.
Maybe I’m too old for this. Too yoga pants and mindfulness, too Netflix and herbal tea, too likely to read every sign that we should break up and, you know, break up.
Maybe I shouldn’t meet him at all.
Then I think of the way he left me panting on the mat last time, skin slick, sweat pooling between my breasts, legs shaking from what we’d done—and what we’d just done before that. A thrill runs through me. Then it digs into my stomach like indigestion.
Oh God. I’m doomed.
As if I needed more confirmation of my impending romantic disaster, I text him back.
Me: Yes, we’re still on.
I might as well sign my death certificate with a bright red heart.
He could get bored and break things off first, I reason. Or he could get traded to a team in Alaska, and I’d never have to see him or any of my own dumb choices again.
The choice feels both inevitable and out of my hands.
This is what happens when you spend too much time in a twisted yoga pose. All the blood rushes to your brain and you get delusional. You end up texting guys with tats and swagger. You start thinking, why not, instead of, let’s be reasonable adults here.
***
When Jasper shows up an hour early, looking even hotter than I remember, I nearly back out right then and there. I’ve managed to forget what he looks like, maybe on purpose. A tower of muscle with a face carved by a Greek god. Intimidating in a good way.
“Jasper, I thought we said eight,” I say.
“Time changed,” he says, casually brushing past me into my apartment. “Didn’t you get the memo?” He pauses just inside the. “Nice pants, but I need you to go change into a skirt.”
“Uh,” I say, trying to follow his eyes to my leggings. “Why?”
He takes a large stride into my personal space, tugs a fallen hair behind my ear, cups my chin in his hand to hold my face still and stares deep into my eyes. “Because I said so. Now go.”
I turn to leave right as he swats my ass, hard. Yep, I’ll be changing my wet panties along with my pants. It only takes a couple of minutes to switch out my outfits. I guess he’s taking me somewhere there’s a dress code.
“Nice,” Jasper says as I exit my bedroom. “Come here. Let me see.”
I obey without a word and walk towards him. When I reach him, he glides his hand up from my bare knee to my thigh, and up to the clean thong I just put on. Then in one swift jerk, he yanks them off.
“Hey!” I yelp.
“You won’t be needing those tonight. Let’s go,” he responds, taking my hand as he escorts me out of the building.