“Yeah. You did.” She shook her head.

“She’s right, man,” Marc said to Corey. “Bennet is better than people think. He’s a quiet guy, he plays in a quiet way. He’s smart and he’s a good skater. We notice the things he does, even if everyone else doesn’t.”

Lovey met his eyes. A slow smile curved her mouth and it felt like a kick to his heart. “Thanks. Excuse me. I need to use the ladies’ room.”

Heh. She was good. Damn good. A strange feeling of pride swelled inside him.

Hell. What the fuck was he proud about? She wasn’t his.

But he wanted her.

There. He’d admitted it. He wanted her to pull him into that circle of light and warmth she seemed to create everywhere she went, to ease his pain and frustration, to make things seem good again. But he couldn’t have her. He knew that. Army would hurt him if he touched her. He had no intention of touching her. He’d just have to ignore guys hitting on her and her flirting with them.

When Lovey returned, she ended up talking to Stoykers and Hughie. Marc grinned. That Corey dude was done. What an idiot.

But then she was flirting with other guys.

Marc would be driving, so he couldn’t drink the ten beers he wanted. Too bad this wasn’t a night he’d let Duncan drive. After watching Lovey flirt for a couple of hours, Marc had had enough. “Gonna head out,” he said to the others, sliding off his stool. He reached for his jacket, which was hanging nearby.

“I’m ready to go too,” Lovey said. “Can I get a ride home with you?”

He hesitated. He glanced at Army, who just shrugged. “How about you, Jillian? Need a ride?”

“That would be great,” she said. “But I could take a taxi.”

“No problem, I can drive you. Where do you live?”

She gave him her address in Streeterville, just a short detour out of their way, and he nodded and headed out with the two women.

“No threesomes!” Jared called as they walked out.

Marc shook his head, grinning.

Lovey and Jillian chatted all the way to Jillian’s apartment, mostly about Hakim, and Jillian’s plan to see him the next afternoon to go skating at Millennium Park. They dropped her off, and then it was just Lovey and him in the vehicle. He turned up the music—Arcade Fire.

“Great song,” Lovey said. “Love their new album. You like indie music?”

He nodded.

“You played great tonight,” she said. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you that at Eddy’s. I saw you go behind the net, just like you were talking about, and I knew you were going to score.”

“Yeah?”

“Yup. You were really playing hard, especially in the third period. Too bad the rest of the team wasn’t. And that bad call against Olaf cost you the game.”

“Nah. We can’t blame the refs. One call doesn’t lose a game. We should’ve played better.” They were a team. They didn’t win or lose a game because of how one guy played or because of one shitty penalty. He couldn’t blame anyone else for the loss. At least, not out loud. Inside his head, though, he was concerned about a couple of the guys. “I try to get them going by playing the best I can.”

“That’s why you’re the captain.”

He shrugged.

“Do you practice tomorrow?”

“Nope. We get the day off.”

“That’s nice. What are you going to do?”

“Eh…dunno. Haven’t planned anything. Work out, probably.”

“Skating at Millennium Park sounds like fun.” She paused. “But then, skating is work for you, I guess.”

Was she asking him out? Did she want him to ask her out? It couldn’t happen.

Tempting as it was to picture them skating together, laughing…Nope. Couldn’t happen.

But heat shimmered in the interior of his SUV, the faint sweet vanilla cake and icing scent of her teasing him, the sincerity of her praise for his game warming him inside. He said nothing and tried to focus on navigating the snowy streets.

“Were you thinking about a threesome?”

His head snapped around and his jaw went slack as he gaped at her. “What?”

She smiled. “You said every guy there was thinking about a threesome with Jillian and me. Were you?”

“Uh…” He choked a little. “Uh, no, of course not.” He was not entirely lying. Sure, the idea had popped into his head, he was a guy and that was a very pleasant fantasy. But if he was really honest, he’d mostly been thinking about a twosome—him and Lovey. He swallowed a groan of frustration.

“I saw how you were looking at me.”

Fuck. Once again, he had a hard time finding words. “Looking at you?”

“Yes. C’mon, Marc, admit it. There’s some kind of spark between us.”

“No. No, there isn’t.” The words rushed out of his mouth. His heart picked up speed though, and desire surged through his body.

He pulled into the underground parking garage beneath their condo and found his space near the elevator. He stopped with a sharp tap of the brakes that jolted the vehicle, slammed it into park, and jumped out. He rounded the vehicle to open Lovey’s door, even though he wanted to bolt for the elevator. She leaped lightly to her feet and he flung the door shut and followed her toward the elevator, bleeping the locks over his shoulder.

In the enclosed space of the elevator, she studied him, for a change not saying anything, but he saw the heated interest in her eyes, and the full curve of her bottom lip made him break out in a sweat. Jesus, he wanted that mouth.

She apparently knew, and he realized he’d given himself away by staring at those lush lips when she dragged her tongue over her bottom lip. His dick thickened and lengthened and he shifted his feet on the elevator floor, willing it to travel faster and the doors to open so he could make his escape and barricade himself in his bedroom. Heat built between them as they watched each other, and he dragged his eyes off her and stared at the elevator buttons as if they were about to shoot sparks at him.

The doors slid open and he let her exit before him into the hall. She had her key out and used it to open the door, flicking the light switch right inside. She strolled into the living room, unzipping her jacket and unwinding her scarf.

“This view is amazing,” she said. “Look at it at night. With snow out there it’s even more sparkly.”

“Yeah.” He hung his jacket in the closet and took off his boots. “Okay. G’night, Lovey.”

She turned to face him, pulling her jacket off. So pretty. Her eyes were big and shadowy in her pale oval face, her lips shiny. The big loose sweater obscured her body, but he knew exactly what was hidden under it. Or almost exactly. Her little cami and panties that morning hadn’t hid much.

His hands itched and ached to touch. It was all he could do to stop himself from reaching out to take hold of her, pull her up against him.

“You’re going to bed.” She stated it, her voice quiet.

“Yeah. See you tomorrow.” And he started forward.

She stepped in front of him. He pulled up, leaning back from her so far he almost lost his balance. She set her hands on his chest, then slid them up, curling her fingers around his neck. His body zoomed onto high alert, every nerve ending sizzling, his cock hardening. The feel of her soft, warm fingers on the sensitive skin of his neck made his skin tingle everywhere. Fuck. Fuck, he was going down.

“Marc,” she murmured.

Every muscle tightened to the point of pain as he tried to resist the lust that burned through him. “Lovey,” he croaked. “Don’t do this.”

“Why not?” Her fingertips rubbed the back of his neck and she stared up at him with parted lips and heavy-lidded eyes. Fuck, he wanted to taste her mouth, wanted his tongue inside her, wanted to crush her up against him.

Army. Army would kill him. He’d cut off his balls and shove them up his nostrils. Even that thought did nothing to make his dick soften. His hands somehow landed on Lovey’s hips. Somehow her body was touching his. He stared at her mouth, his breath tightening in his chest.