The Score
Page 75“Tell me why,” I say gruffly. “I need to know it’s not just because casual sex makes you feel slutty. That it’s not just because you’re insecure about everything Sean said.”
Allie slowly runs one hand over my cheek. “It’s not.” Her fingertips scrape the bristles of stubble on my jaw. “I want to be with you because it feels right.”
The tension in my chest dissipates, replaced by a strange rush of warmth I couldn’t explain if I tried. We don’t speak after that. Which is equally strange, this long inexplicable silence that doesn’t need to be filled. I release her only so I can peel my sweater off, kick away my jeans. I reach out and click the bedside lamp.
Darkness falls over us. Allie gets under the covers. Without a word, she shifts over so there’s room for me.
I slide in behind her, curling one arm around her slender body and drawing her closer. She makes a contented noise and snuggles her ass to my groin, her back to my chest. Her hair tickles my chin. I fall asleep to the sound of her soft breathing and the steady beating of her heart beneath my palm.
*
Hannah and Garrett are in the small kitchenette when I emerge from Allie’s room the next morning. They’re holding the most ridiculous pink mugs—Wellsy’s has “ALLIE’S BFF!” scrawled on the front in a purple script font. Garrett’s says “HAN-HAN’S BFF!”
I smother a laugh. Why do I get the feeling the custom mugs were Allie’s doing?
Since I expected a cross-examination, I’m not surprised when they attack the moment they notice me.
“What kind of game are you playing with my best friend?”
“I specifically told you to keep your dick away from her, man.”
I follow the aroma of freshly brewed coffee to the narrow counter. It’s not even nine o’clock. I’m not awake enough to have this conversation yet.
Unfortunately, my pointed effort to ignore them has no effect. They keep firing questions at me as I pour myself some coffee.
“How long has this been going on?”
“Why didn’t she tell me?”
“This is going to ruin our whole group dynamic, you know.”
“You think so?” Hannah’s attention is on Garrett now. “If it’s just a fling, it probably won’t change anything.”
“Your girl doesn’t do flings, babe. She’s a nester.”
It’s the same observation I’d made about Allie on the drive to New York, but hearing Garrett dissect the sexual habits of the girl I’m dating raises my hackles.
The girl I’m dating. Jesus. Never thought I’d be saying that. But it’s the way it is, and I’ve decided to roll with it.
“Hey, I have an idea.” I lean against the counter and stare at them over the rim of my mug. “How ’bout you guys mind your own business?”
Wellsy’s jaw drops.
Garrett’s eyebrows soar.
A choked laugh comes from the hallway. A moment later, Allie saunters into the main room. “Morning,” she says casually.
There’s a beat. “Morning,” Hannah answers.
Allie approaches the counter and picks up the coffee pot. When she leans on her tiptoes to grab a mug from the top cupboard, I can’t help but give her jutting ass a little smack.
Hannah glares at me.
“What?” My expression is innocent.
Allie sips her coffee, then wraps both hands around the mug and addresses the room. “Okay. Real talk, guys.” She glances at Hannah. “Dean and I are together. There. It’s out in the open. You may now commence with the questions.”
Hannah’s mouth stays closed. For someone who’d had questions galore only minutes ago, her silence is surprising. Worrying. Her troubled green eyes tell me she’s not happy with this new arrangement.
“No? Nothing you want me to say?” Allie lifts the mug to her lips. “All righty then.”
I hide a smile and turn to Garrett. “Hunter and I have an hour of ice time today. Coach signed off on it. You want to come?”
He rubs a hand over his jaw, scratching the dark stubble there. “You still giving Davenport pointers? Working one-on-one?”
I nod. “He’s eager, works hard. But I think some tips from another forward will do him some good.”
Garrett nods back. “Sure, I’ll tag along. Wouldn’t mind working with him on penalty killing. He made too many mistakes during that Burlington power play yesterday.”
“At least we won the damn game.”
“True. Our record still blows, though.”
“It’s a fucking bummer, man. My Hurricanes have a better record, and they’re frickin’ middle-schoolers.”
“Your Hurricanes?” He grins. “Dude, admit it. You’re in love with those kidlets.”
“Fuck off. I just have fun coaching—”
Garrett is visibly hurt. “You’re kicking me out?”
“I’m sorry, babe. I love you with all my heart but it’s time for some girl talk, and last I checked, you don’t have a vagina. Therefore, you need to go.” She scowls at me. “You too, Dean.”
I know better than to argue with Hannah Wells when she’s set her mind to something. She wants us gone, then gone we shall be.
I drain the rest of my coffee, place the empty cup in the sink, and glance at Allie. “I’ll call you later?”
“Yep.” She walks up and gives me a chaste kiss on the cheek, but there’s no way I’m leaving without something a little more substantial. Capturing her chin in my hand, I tip her head back and press my mouth to hers. The kiss I give her is deep and hungry, involving a helluva lot of tongue, and lasting long enough to make Hannah squawk.
“Okay, enough!” she orders.
As Allie and I break apart, I toss a grin in Wellsy’s direction. “Oh, relax, baby doll. It’s just a little French kissing between me and my girl. Nobody died.”
Hannah’s mouth falls open. Then she points to the door and growls, “Out.”
*
Allie
“His girl?” Hannah says the moment Dean and Garrett are out the door. “Explain yourself, Allison. I mean it. Explain. Yourself.”