Page 2 of No Shot (The Toronto Tundra #2)

Seemingly unimpressed by my ridiculously good looks, she continues, “ That bad, eh? Alright, let me guess…” When she pauses, she tucks her deep brown hair behind her ear, before looking up at me, all mischief in her expression.

She slides off her bar seat before closing the few steps of distance between us and popping up on the stool directly next to me.

With a seductive gaze, she leans forward and takes a moment to stare at my lips.

I have to resist the urge to lean in and kiss her.

She smells even better up close; it ’ s intoxicating.

I know she ’ s playing me right now, but I ’ d happily let her play with me all she wants.

Her one hand rests gently on my forearm, while her other draws the lightest line from my knee up my thigh.

Shit, I ’ m too distracted right now. My body doesn ’ t understand she ’ s messing with me, but damn does her touch feel good.

I ’ m losing my cool by the second, about to lay my hand overtop hers to stop it from trailing any higher, when she saves me from myself.

“ Hey baby, are you wifi? ‘ Cus I ’ m really feeling a connection,” she says in what I can only assume is her attempt at a deep male voice. Crisis averted, any tempting thoughts have been shoved safely away, as I let out a pleased laugh.

“ That can ’ t be real. Tell me no one has ever tried that one on you.”

Her hand still hasn ’ t moved from my thigh as she continues leaning into me as we speak quietly over the chatter of the room.

“ Last week.” This time, she actually smiles to herself like she ’ s reliving the memory.

“ Geez, it must be real tough out there for mediocre-looking men. They should at least go for something classic. Damn.”

“ Standing firm on the no pickup line stance, huh?” she asks.

“ Told you I don ’ t need them.”

“ Cocky much?”

“ Nah. Observant. Every guy in this bar has had their eye on you, yet you ’ re the one who walked over to me. The one leaning into me.” I lean forward a little more to whisper in her ear. “ The one who can ’ t keep her hands off of me.”

It ’ s like alarm bells go off in her body, notifying her just how close she ’ s gotten.

We ’ re inches from each other, her hand settled on the top of my jeans where it ’ s been for the last few minutes.

Her eyes widen ever so slightly as she looks down and snaps her hand back.

In a second, she ’ s cleared her throat and is sliding off her seat.

“ Wait.” I grab her hand as she turns to go. “ Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?”

“ Oh fuck off…” she calls over her shoulder, but I spot the smile on her face before she has a chance to conceal it.

Shit, I didn ’ t even get her name. It takes way too much effort to force myself to stay rooted in place and to continue working on my notebook.

I ’ m proud of myself. A little bit of harmless flirting, and now going about my separate way?

It ’ s like I can feel my frontal lobe developing by the second.

I ’ m texting the list of my new manifestations to Theo Benson, another one of my friends on the team.

Actually, given the ‘ I ’ m moving out of the building, and you ’ re on your own to starve ’ Jack situation, he may just have been promoted to the top spot on my friendship roster.

It feels like we keep getting closer. He ’ s been with the Toronto Tundra since he was drafted first overall, and given how he continues to dominate year after year, it looks like he ’ ll be here for the long haul.

He ’ s everything I should want to be, but I don ’ t know. I just can ’ t see myself ever rising to his level. Hockey is his life. I ’ m pretty sure his first word was puck, and he ’ s been an absolute hockey robot ever since.

He ’ s what you ’ d want in a teammate, though.

Fiercely competitive on the ice, consistent in his plays, and sure, he struggles a bit in the locker room and with the media, but ever since I got called up last year, he ’ s done nothing but try to support my growth to help secure my spot on the team.

It ’ s the second summer that we both stayed in the city during the off-season.

Theo and I shared a trainer, a physio, and ice time, and damn did it ever help me step my game up.

Every day, he ’ s locked in, giving everything he ’ s got, and he ’ s rubbing off on me a bit.

Whatever he ’ s doing is working, which is why I ’ m trying everything he suggests.

I ’ m chugging the rest of my iced tea, wishing it was a cold beer, when I spot Theo ’ s reply.

‘ That ’ s awesome, Brooksy! ’ I don ’ t know why, but I'm immediately grinning at my screen. There ’ s a chance this could actually work.

That means I ’ d get to stay here, with the team, close to he-who-must-not-be-named and Theo, and all the other guys.

Unfortunately, my happiness is short-lived. From the corner of my eye, I catch some dude marching toward our side of the bar, headed right for Grumps. A new feeling, a flash of something, pangs in my stomach as I watch him approach. Thankfully, it ’ s blown away by a feeling I do recognize: pity.

He ’ s well dressed, looking a bit like a finance bro, with the top button of his dress shirt unbuttoned and his sleeves rolled up to show off his flashy watch. Poor guy doesn ’ t know what he ’ s stepping into, and I get a front row seat to this showdown.

Get him, Chipmunk.

He rests one arm casually on the bartop, standing over her. I can practically see her eye roll from here as she faces him head-on. I force my eyes away, taking the last sip of melted ice from my glass as I strain my ears to listen in.

“Is it hot in here, or is it just you?”

It ’ s at that exact moment that I try to stop the laugh from slipping out. It ’ s poorly timed and it sends my drink—and an ice cube—down the wrong tube, leaving me coughing into my glass. I feel eyes on me, but I stay concentrated on covering up the last remnants of my laughing.

A deep throat clears, probably from the finance bro waiting for a reply.

“ Pretty sure it ’ s just the heater,” she responds to him. “ Have a good night.” The last bit has a tone of finality. She definitely wants him to get lost.

He has a quick, dry laugh and gets even closer to her before lifting his finger to signal the bartender. “ She ’ ll have another beer.”

This time, she snaps her gaze to him before looking back to the bartender. “ I ’ m actually fine, thank you.”

“ Sweetheart, you don ’ t turn down a free drink.

” It ’ s a condescending tone that sets me off.

“ I said she ’ ll have a beer,” he informs the bartender again.

The poor guy behind the bar looks confused, flipping between the two of them, trying to make the executive decision.

She steps in to put him out of his misery.

“ I will not be having another drink. I ’ ll grab my bill, though, when you get a second, please.” She offers a very polite smile, and the bartender looks relieved as he quickly disappears.

“ Damn, leaving so soon? Thought we could get to know each other a little more.” He tilts his head, mouth dipping like he ’ s about to whisper in her ear. Oh hell no. I take out my wallet, setting cash for my meal under my empty glass.

“ Can you not take a hint, or do I need to repeat myself?” She pushes back, her chair scooting, giving a few extra inches of distance between them.

“ I am not interested. I will never be interested. I think you should head back to your chair. Have a nice night.” Her smile is fake, lips in a tight line, eyebrows raised.

“ Don ’ t be like that, Sweetheart.” His hand raises to graze her cheek, and she recoils.

“ Get your fucking hand out of my face.” She slaps it away, and his eyes flare.

The legs of my stool scrape the concrete floor as I quickly bound over.

“ Fucking bitch.” His cool tone is poisonous, but all she does is laugh. In his face. Loudly. Little firecracker isn ’ t afraid of anything.

“ Yeah, no, that ’ s enough of that.” I step between them, putting my hand up to push the guy ’ s chest a little bit.

“ Dude, stay out of it, I ’ m talking to her.”

“ Nah, you ’ re talking to me now.” I puff my chest out a little more. I ’ m not the biggest guy, but I ’ m bigger than this dude, and more athletic, too. I stare him down.

His pea brain is processing, fucking slowly I might add, and he finally sighs taking a step back.

I grab tightly to his arm as he turns to go. “ Ah, ah, ah. Not so fast. Anything you have to say to her?”

“ You ’ re fucking joking me right, bro?”

“ Deadly fucking serious, bro .”

He mumbles something that sounds like sorry under his breath. ”Speak the fuck up,” I spit out.

“ I ’ m sorry.” He meets her eyes for only a second before shaking out of my grasp and walking away. That ’ ll do. I watch him until he ’ s out of sight and I ’ m suddenly feeling tiny, rapid fits on my back.

“ I had it covered.” She's crossed her arms now, looking about as menacing as a Keebler Elf. “ I can handle myself, I didn ’ t need rescuing.” Damn. Now that we ’ re standing, I realize just how tiny she is—her flats doing nothing to help our height difference.

“ I know you didn ’ t. Trust me, you ’ re like the world's tiniest assassin. I mean, seriously, my back is going to be bruised with the kind of damage you were doling out there.”

She continues staring at me, brows furrowed, eyes narrowed.

“ Look, I just didn ’ t like how he was speaking to you, okay? I don ’ t like when men talk down to women. I ’ m never just going to stand by and watch it happen.”

Her expression lightens just a fraction, but she stays silent.

“ I ’ m heading out. Do you want to call an Uber or something? I can wait with you if you want.”

She still looks on quietly, but lifts her phone to show me her screen, a car emoji approaching the restaurant. “ They ’ re two minutes away.”

I shrug. “ Alright, cool.” I continue forward, and we walk in silence side by side out of the restaurant and past the empty waiting area.

It ’ s getting late, I ’ m sure the main dining room is clearing out.

A small, dimly lit corridor lies ahead with a glass door leading to the street at the end of it.

We can ’ t fit next to each other, so I pause for a beat, motioning my hand for her to walk ahead of me.

Her surprised expression confuses me, but she steps ahead, and I follow her halfway. “ Penn?”

“ Hmm? ”

In a flash, her body turns, and she reaches one hand to my jaw, pulling my head down to her level. I ’ m powerless to resist her. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips as her eyes stare into mine. We pull together torturously slowly. Oh shit, is she about to kiss me?

“ Thanks for helping,” slips from her lips. There ’ s the slightest flicker of question in her eyes, and before she has a chance to retreat, both my hands fly up to cup her face. I move forward, stepping until her back is flush against the opposing wall. My mouth snaps to hers.

Her lips are soft and supple as she responds to my every movement. God, I was not expecting it to be like this. Who knew she ’ d let me take control, explore her, tease her.

I spoke too soon. In a second, she lifts her arm to grab a handful of the hair above my neck, pulling me closer to her. She speeds up her pace and starts sucking on my lower lip.

I—I don ’ t know what ’ s happening.

Somehow, her other hand has tugged on my belt loop. My hips gladly pin her lower body to the wall. When my erection brushes against her, her mouth opens, and a quiet moan escapes her lips.

I was supposed to be in control.

My hips grind into her in response, while my tongue gets its first opportunity to taste her. We ’ re fighting for dominance here, and I intend to win.

Fuck, this is getting out of hand fast.

We break apart for a second, and I ’ m desperately trying to push oxygen to my brain, ready to clear my head. I ’ m not supposed to be doing this. I ’ m supposed to be focusing on myself and hockey. I can just tell her it ’ s getting lat— oh fuck .

A louder than acceptable groan escapes me when her lips latch onto the corner of my jaw while her other hand has managed to slip below my sweatshirt, tickling just above the waistband of my boxers.

Shit, shit, shit.

“ U-uber,” I squeak out, clearing my throat. “ Your Uber. It ’ s probably here.”

She pulls out her phone, wholly unaffected by the fact that my hard dick is still pressed into her body. When she checks the screen, she taps my stomach twice, and I take a step back.

“ Gotta go,” she says. “ That was, uh, ya know, kinda hot. Five out of ten. Good effort all around.”

My mouth gapes open, and this time, her smile is so genuine it reaches her eyes. Five out of ten my ass. I want to come up with some witty reply, but she ’ s already moving and halfway out the door when she looks over her shoulder, a little chuckle slipping out as it closes behind her.