Page 21 of The Groupie

Rylee

Having a two-week fling with Zak while I’m recuperating tempts me far more than it should. But he’s a liar, isn’t he? He told me he was a banker. The bastard didn’t want me to know he was a pro hockey player.

Of course, by that standard, I’m a liar, too. Because I didn’t want him to know I’m an Olympic snowboarder. Still don’t. I blurt out the excuse I’ve been using for every lie I’ve been telling, and they’re piling up.

“What about Mamma Cass?” I ask Suzie, ignoring the big guy and his compelling presence as best I can.

“I’ll have the grump from next door come over and stay with her,” Suzie says. “She’ll be fine for one night.”

“Mamma Cass? Like from the Mammas and the Pappas? I thought she was dead?” Zak says.

“Right. We bought a stuffed version of her from a shop in Hollywood and keep her in our living room for fun,” I dead pan.

His breaks into a grin, and Suzie pulls on my arm like she always did to get me to stop toying with people.

“She’s our mama. Her name is Cassandra Mooney, but she loved the Mammas and the Pappas—she was a regular flower child type. So, she loved being called Mama Cass, and it stuck.”

“Cool. Monday, Monday is my favorite of theirs. My mom always had them playing on her CD player in an endless loop.”

“You’re a regular throwback,” I say. Scanning him from head to foot and back to his long unruly, touchable hair, my belly flutters like a flirty cartoon character batting her eyelashes. “Come to think of it, you kind of look like you’d be a hippie if you weren’t a hockey player.”

He throws back his head and laughs. “Not me. My—” He stops talking abruptly and turns away. “Nope. Not even close. I was a gym rat and a rink rat all my life.”

I lock on his face to distract myself from the sheer size and buffness of him, and my memories of last night. “I can see that. Good for you.”

“You appreciate what you see? We can arrange for more of that—after the game.”

I keep my mouth shut and flat, no smiling from me, no flirting. But I’m so damn tempted.

“You’re not going to turn him down, are you?” Suzie is nearly incredulous, but keeps her voice within the polite range.

Her watch alarm goes off, saving me—saving us all.

“I have to get to dance practice. Talk later,” she says over her shoulder as she takes off without me down the hallway.

My personal temptation with the killer body and some kind of irresistible sex aura takes a step closer until the pungent smell of his hockey uniform invades my nostrils. The scent should totally turn me off and have me running the other way, but it doesn’t. Oh no, that manly scent is like catnip to my nose and has me leaning in. I’m a sicko.

“I should go too,” I murmur.

“What are you afraid of?” he says like it’s a dare.

That hits me in my Achilles heel hard and I toss back my hair. “What about my ankle?”

“What about it?”

“I need to keep off it.”

“I’m not asking you to dance, honey.”

I can’t help the twitch in the corner of my mouth before I narrow my eyes at him. “Getting around in a hockey arena would be a bitch.”

“I’ll get you seats in a box with an elevator. No stairs.”

“Everyone in the box will assume we’re… something we’re not.”

“I’ll tell them you’re my sister.”

“Something I’m not,” I say sarcastically. “You have a sister no one’s met?”

“As a matter of fact, I have three. No one’s met the youngest. She just got out of high school.”

I snort. “I’ll be sure to wear my knee socks and put my hair in braids.”

He eyes me like he likes the idea.

“You’re not into dressing up and role-playing, are you?” I ask.

“What if I am?” he says without inflection, and I can’t tell if he’s joking or serious.

“A girl likes to come prepared is all.”

He snorts, shaking his head, and I know he’s joking. “You talk big, but are you going to show up?”

“Okay, you’re on, big guy. Not for the sister act.” I pause to catch my breath which seems to be in short supply in his presence. “I’m not afraid of another night with you. But I have some rules. First, I’m not going to your game.”