Page 70 of XOXO, Summer
“Breathtaking.” I close the gap, wanting to kiss her so badly but not wanting to ruin her makeup. Her neck is bare, so I kiss her there and then her exposed shoulder. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Sunshine.”
“Really?”
I don’t know how a woman as gorgeous as she is could question any man’s attraction to her. “You’re stunning, baby.” With her hair pulled up and fastened at the back, I’m given the full view to admire the way her cheeks blush for me. Holding my arm out, I ask, “You ready to be seen on the arm of the baddest boy in hockey?”
Hooking her arm around mine, we return to the car. “You’re no boy, baby. You’reallllman.”
“God, I love you for that.” The words come out before I can think twice. Her feet stop just short of climbing into the car. I see her chest rise and her lips part to release a breath. Will ignoring it make it better or worse? The woman makes me laugh more than anyone. It was said in jest. She understands that.Fuck.
Ducking her head, she slides into the back of the vehicle. After shutting the door behind me, I take her hand and hold it between both of mine. “You really do look beautiful, Summer.”
“You look handsome.” The little tension that tried to seep between us doesn’t develop into more, and she says, “I had the best time. We drank champagne and had cheese and berries. One guy was doing my hair while another woman was putting on my makeup. I’ve seen it in the movies but was never treated so special. Thank you, again. Oh . . .” She pushes her ears forward. “I got your present. You didn’t have to give me anything.”
The diamonds are impressive—one in each ear. I’m thinking Ray is working overtime for that bonus this year. “I’m glad you like them.”
She looks out the window, then back at me. “What are we going to say?”
“Doesn’t matter because anything I say will be twistedonline before we get back to the penthouse tonight. So I don’t want to script ourselves. Let’s have fun without the pressure. How does that sound?”
Latching onto my arm again, she pulls herself closer, sliding across the leather seat. “Sounds like a perfect night.”
We’re hurried out of the car on arrival and shuffled down a short red carpet to take photos. In a flurry of chaos, managers and agents, celebrities and their entourages surround us. Summer presses against me and whispers, “Don’t leave me.”
“I won’t.” I keep Summer close, holding her hand and anchoring her at my side when we’re guided to the press.
The flashes are blinding, and I hear my name shouted in ten different directions. The reporter upfront asks, “Everyone wants to know. Are you retiring, Daniel?”
“No. Why would I retire when I’m at the top of my game? Gretzky was three years older than I was when he retired. Gordie Howe was fifty-two.”
The microphone is pulled back, and the reporter says, “You’re not a Gretzky.”
When the microphone is shoved back in my face, I’m about to take it to shove it up his?—
“You’re right,” Summer says, stepping out to give herself some room, though holding tight to my hand. “He’s Daniel “The Maverick of Hockey” Sutton. Seven-time MVP, which is two shy of Gretzky. He had the highest contract for the longest term in history. Between his power play goals, hat tricks, and assists to saves, you’re looking at a future hall of famer, and you should learn to speak to him with the respect he’s earned.”
Oh shit . . .
The press line falls silent, prompting others on the redcarpet to look around to see what happened. She slinks against me again, and whispers, “Did I break them?”
The hurricane of questions hits hard and fast.
“What’s your name?”
I take this one. “This is Summer, my girlfriend.”
“How long have you been dating?”
Laughing, she glances at me quickly and then leans in to answer, “Since we met.”
“Hey Summer, are you a fan of hockey?”
Summer replies, “I’m a fan of Daniel’s.”
A lady wrangles us, sending us in the direction of the party, and tells them, “That’s all, folks.”
While we’re walking, I say, “I’m a fan of yours, too. The biggest.” I bring her hand to my mouth and kiss it. “If we wanted people talking, that should do it.”
She clasps her other hand around our already secured hands. “Are you mad?”
