Page 37 of Reputation (Toronto Royals #1)

Eavie tossed back her head and laughed, finally turning back to him. “Wow. Does that line ever work?” she asked, shoulders still shaking with laughter.

He shook his head, smirking. “On everyone but you, apparently,” he answered.

“But then again, you’re nothing like the women it usually works on.

” She felt her lips tilt in unusual satisfaction at his words.

Still laughing to hide her reaction, she took another sip of her drink.

“So, how did you end up working in professional sports?”

Glancing over at him, she noted he looked genuinely interested.

Deciding it was a safe enough topic, she shrugged.

“I got my BA at the university in Toronto. In my senior year, I interned with the National Ballet as a director’s assistant.

” She looked down at her drink, finger running along the edge of the glass.

“When I graduated, they offered me a full-time position. At the time, I figured it was a good start. It was a guaranteed job out of school, so I accepted. Stayed there for a few years. An acquaintance I met while working was an executive for the Heirs. His wife loves the ballet,” she said, smiling at the thought of his vivacious, chatty wife, “so they were members. He got me an interview to be David’s EA.

I grew up with a brother who played hockey, so I spent most of my childhood watching his games and knew the ins and outs of the sport.

I was there for a couple more years before this opportunity came up.

When it did, I applied, and here I am,” she said, lifting her hands, palms up.

“Executive assistant to the GM of the Royals,” he said. She nodded, licking a drop of bourbon from the corner of her lips. “Did you always want to be an assistant?”

She laughed lightly, gently shaking her head. She turned, a playful smile stretching her lips. “Honestly?” she asked him.

He furrowed his brow. “Of course.”

She glanced down at his chest—his incredible, sculpted chest, clad in a simple white button-down before she pulled her eyes back to the sea of casino games. “I had no idea what I wanted to do. I figured a business degree wouldn’t be a bad place to start,” she paused and laughed. “Truthfully…”

He leaned closer. It was subtle and so casual that she may not have even noticed if she hadn’t been attuned to his every move.

She turned as if her body functioned of its own accord and faced him.

They sat close together, probably looking like they were in a deep conversation to anyone who looked their way.

“What?” he prompted, looking genuinely interested.

She felt the words I’ve never been exceptional at any one thing poised on her tongue, but the self-conscious side of her stopped her from saying them.

Despite how he looked at her—as if he really wanted to know her—she couldn’t bring herself to reveal such a vulnerability.

Not when she was still so unsure about how she felt about him.

She couldn’t imagine he could even understand.

She swallowed and shook her head once. “Nothing,” she said finally. Blinking, she pulled her gaze away from him and took a sip of her drink, but she kept her body facing him. She didn’t want to leave his delicious heat or lose his heady scent. “Anyway,” she continued, “here I am.”

She felt him release a breath, the warmth fanning the skin of her face. “And do you like it here?” he asked.

“I do,” she said, smiling fondly. She looked back at him.

“This position is what I’ve been working toward for a while,” she paused, the smile falling from her lips.

Remembering the precariousness of her contract, it occurred to her how close to the edge she was with this man.

Reality splashed over her like a bucket of ice water.

She drew in a deep breath. “This job is very important to me. I want the permanent offer next year.”

Because it’s the only thing that will prove I didn’t waste my potential echoed in her head. The thought caused a bitter taste to swell in her mouth.

Holding eye contact, she watched him scan her face, but he carefully controlled his reactions. She wanted to know what he was thinking..

“What about you?” she asked, changing the subject. “Did you always know you wanted to play hockey?”

“Pretty much.” He nodded, taking a sip of his bourbon.

“I started learning when I was three,” he said, laughing.

“I was barely old enough to walk, but as soon as I had those skates on, it was like…I don’t know.

It felt right. When I was ten, I knew I wanted to go pro and wanted to play for the Royals.

I’m homegrown, grew up cheering for this team, and I knew that’s what I wanted to do. ”

“No girlfriend or wife, though,” Eavie said casually, looking back at her drink. She didn’t want him to know that his response mattered more to her than she let on.

After learning that he’d once been engaged, she wanted to understand more about him. She wanted to know what happened.

She saw his crooked smirk out of the corner of her eye. “No girlfriend or wife,” he confirmed.

“Any reason why?” She lifted her gaze again, looking at him as she asked.

He turned away, as if her question had hit a sore spot. It was his turn to stare at his drink.

Shrugging, he said, “I’ve been too focused on my career. Any serious relationships I’ve had have broken up because I spend a lot of time working on and off the ice. With all the travel, they inevitably get fed up with my lack of attention, I believe one past girlfriend called it.”

Her next question balanced itself on the precipice of her tongue.

She wanted to know, but also didn’t want to upset him.

She sat facing him, watching him drink as she debated.

She took a moment to scan his chiseled jaw and model-like cheeks with a dusting of dark stubble she wanted to brush her fingers over.

Finally, she opened her mouth to ask the question she’d debated over. She knew it might be a sore subject, but if she was going to untangle this mess of feelings she had, she felt she had a right to know.

“And what about your fiancée—or ex-fiancée, I guess,” she asked as gently as possible.

A muscle in his jaw flexed before he lifted his glass to his lips. Her eyes tracked the movement of his throat as he swallowed. His chest pushed against the white fabric of his shirt when he inhaled.

He turned to look at her. His normally confident demeanor was gone, and she saw a sadness in his eyes that caused her heart to constrict.

Licking his sensuous lips, the bottom one just a little bigger than the top, he answered.

“When my contract in Chicago was up, I was set on going to Toronto. Growing up here, I’d always wanted to play for my home team, and they were in a good position to win a cup.

My agent was working out the deal and,” he paused, shaking his head.

“Abigail—she had no interest in leaving Chicago,” he sighed sadly.

“When I signed the deal, I moved a few days later, and she stayed.”

He said it so casually, but a hint of bitterness beneath made Eavie think there was more he wasn’t saying. Sadness and something like defeat shone in his stormy eyes.

Unable to stand it, she looked away, momentarily closing her eyes. She couldn’t imagine how hard that must have been for him—to think he’d found the one person he wanted to spend his life with, only to have her end it when his career took him elsewhere.

Eavie had always considered herself a feminist, but she also couldn’t imagine not supporting her future husband in his career, just as she expected he would support her.

She cleared her throat. “And there’s been no one since? No one serious,” she asked.

A heartbeat passed, then another, as if he was fighting to control his ghosts. He turned his head, a gentle, wistful smile finally pulling at his lips.

“Maybe one day, with the right woman, it’ll work out,” he answered softly.

His words hit her square in the chest, and she suddenly wanted to be that woman. Something about the way he said them, though, made her pause. It almost sounded like he didn’t believe it would happen.

Tilting her head, she regarded him thoughtfully. “Why does it seem like you don’t believe that?”

He chuckled darkly. “Chalk it up to my experience so far. I have a hard time trusting the intentions of women. As it turned out, I couldn’t even trust my fiancée when it came down to it,” he said bitterly.

That was interesting. There was so much emotion underneath his words that she knew he was carrying his own scars.

“Is that why you hide who you really are to the world? Why you’re someone else with the media and the public?” she asked, beginning to fill in the blanks of her own understanding of him.

He turned amused eyes on her. “What makes you think that’s not who I really am?” he shot back.

She let the silence descend on them again as she let his question hang in the air. Slowly, she took a sip of her drink.

“I think,” she said, leaning forward so there were only inches between them. “That you wear a mask, that the only people you let see the real you are your team, the kids you coach or the ones at your charity.”

Surprised, his eyes flew to her, the lines around them appearing as he regarded her. She smiled, letting out a small, breathless laugh.

“I know, Jax. I know you coach Timbits hockey,” she said.

“And Cade told me the story behind Field of Dreams.” She reached out then, running the tips of her fingers across his forehead and down the side of his face to his jaw.

The rough scratch of stubble sent shivers through her.

“What I don’t know is why.” Her voice had taken on a deep, husky tone, brought on by all the emotions and sensations flooding her.

Once again, looking into his captivating eyes, she felt like she could drown in the sea of them. Her heartbeat kicked up in her chest as he leaned in a fraction, mirroring her movement from a moment ago.

She didn’t expect him to answer, but she could see a million thoughts running through his mind as she gazed into the storming depths of his eyes. She gave him another soft smile, brushing her fingers one last time against his jaw before she pulled away, tossing back the rest of her drink.

He continued to study her for a moment, still leaning toward her, before he asked, “What about you? Are you currently seeing anyone?”

Slowly, she shook her head. “Nope,” she replied, making the word pop at the end.

“No one special enough to attract your attention?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Like you, I’ve been too focused on my career to put much effort into dating. Any of my relationships usually end after a few months,” she answered, shrugging one shoulder.

“Eviscerate men with your beauty and intelligence, do you?” he asked her with a teasing smile.

Laughing, she turned to look at him. It felt good to be on lighter ground with him again. “Hardly. Most of the time, I get bored after a few months, break things off.”

He hummed under his breath, the sound sending a vibration through his chest and across the distance between them. “It would certainly take a special man to hold on to a woman like you,” he said, looking directly into her eyes.

Glancing down from the intensity of his gaze, she felt a traitorous blush creeping up her neck, but couldn’t help the small smile that ghosted across her lips.