Page 22 of Something to Prove
I groaned in exasperation. “This was a bad idea.”
“No, it was a great idea. But I think you’re supposed to be nicer to me. You’re the one who wants the interview…not me.”
“One more.”
Ty gave a devilish half smile. “You have a fresh box of crayons, not a single soul has used them yet. What color are you choosing?”
“Red,” I replied automatically. “You?”
“Blue. Bears colors. And that’s a good lead-in to boring questions.” He gestured broadly as if giving me the floor. “What d’ya got?”
Okay…
I cleared my throat and asked the first thing to pop into my head. “What have you liked best about your four years at Smithton?”
“Uh, lots of things. I love being at a small college, I have great friends, I?—”
“You don’t have to answer right now,” I intercepted. “I’m giving you a sample of what I’ll ask when the camera is rolling.”
“Oh. Well, roll it now. I’m here.”
“I’m not the videographer. That’s Robin’s domain, and he’ll be all kinds of ticked off at me if I take his fun away.”
Ty nodded. “Right. Other questions?”
I inclined my chin in a businesslike fashion. “Do you have any pregame rituals? How do you handle pressure situations on the ice? What’s your fitness routine? Do you ever get nervous before a game?”
“Really? No weirdly personal questions? That seems like a sketchy oversight.”
I bristled at the critique. “Out of curiosity, what constitutes weirdly personal?”
“How about, ‘Are you dating anyone? Girl, guy? Do you ever date both at the same time? Have you ever been caught in a compromising position with your dick out in an alley and?—’ ”
“I wouldn’t ask you those types of questions,” I said between my teeth. “My goal isn’t to make you uncomfortable.”
Ty crossed his arms. “If that was true, you wouldn’t have been sneaking around a parking lot in the dark, looking for me.”
I growled. “That’s not what happened.”
“We’ve been round and round on this one. We both know that’s exactly what happened.”
Okay, yes, that was true and I was still mortified, but darn it…
“You’re mean,” I snapped, unthinking.
Ty’s lips twitched but he didn’t laugh. “No, I’m calling you out on your bullshit. That’s different. I hate that you know something about me that I wouldn’t have shared since I barely fucking know you.”
“Whose fault is that?” I huffed. “Gosh, maybe next time you’ll keep your penis in your pants and avoid an indecent-exposure moment!”
“Are you judging me?”
The safe, congenial stance was to apologize and feign shock that anyone would suggest that I of all people would cast judgment, but this…this…hockey player was a real turd.
“Yes, I am. I’m judging you.” I stood abruptly and fixed Ty with my best glare. “If a zombie apocalypse happens in Smithton it’s going to start in that alley, and you’ll be sorry. Creatures crawling out of trash cans, slithering through the ivy…yuck. Personally, I’d hate to get caught on my knees or with my best jeans around my ankles with a five-eyed, three-armed hairy beast coming at me out of the blue. But by all means, go ahead, take your chances. Don’t forget about basic germs, bacteria, and disease-carrying vermin too. Dis-gus-ting. Sex is amazing, but I’ll take my BJs the old-fashioned way—behind a closed door, thank you very much.”
Ty widened his eyes as his face lit with laughter, and I couldn’t blame him. My cringe-worthy speech was a sure sign I’d lost my last thread of patience. Now I was hopping mad and he was grinning like a fool, looking more gorgeous than ever.
Not fair. Why were the handsomest ones always the biggest jerks?