“Fucking figures,” he muttered. “You get your way again.” Then he started down the hall, shuffling her along with him. In the living room he gently shoved her and she fell onto the couch. Her hair slid across her face and she gasped.
“Don’t ever come in my room again,” he snarled. “For fuck’s sake.”
“But…but wait. Marc…you kissed me—”
“No. You kissed me. I don’t want anything to do with you.”
A sharp pain stabbed Lovey’s heart and her stomach tightened. “What? But—”
“Stay here. Go to sleep. Leave me alone.”
And he strode out of the room. She heard the quiet snick of his door closing.
She sat on the couch, sheets, a blanket, and a pillow arranged into her makeshift bed, which she’d had no intention of using tonight. After Duncan had disappeared into his room, she’d made the bed, gone to her empty room to change into her panties and cami, then padded across the hall to Marc’s room.
Her chest ached and her bottom lip quivered.
That was harsh.
Confusion swirled in her head. He had kissed her. Okay, she’d started it, but he’d kissed her back, dammit. He’d had his hands all over her, down the back of her pants and on her ass, and he’d liked it. He’d been hard, for the love of cheese!
She lowered her chin and closed her eyes, a hot wave of humiliation sweeping over her. Holy frack. How embarrassing.
Her skin burned and so did her eyes as she fought back tears. Wow.
She covered her face with her hands, massaging her temples with her fingertips. She’d never been so rudely rejected by a guy. What an asshole.
They were attracted to each other. She knew it. He knew it. Why was he being such a jerk about it?
Duncan.
She flopped back against the couch.
Yeah, Duncan had made it clear he didn’t want her getting involved with Marc or any of his teammates. He’d probably made that clear to Marc too.
It was none of Duncan’s business. But she could understand that Marc wouldn’t want to piss off his friend, roommate, and teammate.
She made a small strangled noise that was probably a repressed scream of frustration as she burrowed into the covers and pulled them up to her chin. So, fine, he was trying to do the right thing, but he didn’t need to be so mean about it.
She squeezed her eyes closed.
She just wanted to have fun—hot, sexy fun with an attractive guy. She wasn’t looking for anything more. What was so wrong with that?
As usual, her big brother was standing in the way of that. She loved Duncan, but her whole life she’d taken a backseat to him. And yet, here she was, crashing on his couch. She’d created this situation and she would have to deal with it.
The reality was, she had nowhere else to go. She had some savings, but without a steady paycheck she needed to hang on to that money. If she was going to stay here with Duncan, she was going to have to play by his rules.
She rolled over and buried her face in the pillow.
There was chemistry between her and Marc, no doubt about it, and he probably didn’t want to piss off Duncan, but there was also the possibility that he saw her as Duncan’s screwup little sister who couldn’t hold down a job or keep a man and didn’t know what she wanted out of life. He was a respected professional, captain of the Aces, paid millions of dollars, and loved by hockey fans all over North America. Why would someone like him be interested in her, even if all she wanted was a little fun? Oh right. He didn’t do fun.
Well, she had no intention of settling for anything less than fun. She could figure out what she wanted from life and work hard at that, and have fun at the same time. She’d just have fun with somebody else.
—
They all slept in the next morning, although when Lovey finally got up, she heard the sounds of a television in Marc’s room as she shuffled into the bathroom. He’d probably been awake for hours and was afraid to come out of his room in case she tried to jump him.
Phhht.
She washed her face and brushed her teeth, gathered her hair up into a messy knot on her head, didn’t bother with makeup, and then went into her room to get dressed. She pulled on another pair of leggings, patterned knit ones, and a big loose sweater, today a black one. She added a scarf looped twice around her neck and sat on the floor to put on socks. Then she emerged to hunt down something for breakfast.
She cast a baleful look at Marc’s door as she passed it. Should she let him know she was up and he could safely come out? Nah.
Duncan was in the kitchen making toast and drinking orange juice.
“Morning,” she said.
“Hey. Sleep okay?”
“Fantastic.”
He lifted an eyebrow at her sarcastic tone. She skipped the juice and went straight for coffee, frowning at the numerous slices of bread Duncan was spreading with peanut butter. She opened the fridge door and peered in. “Can I have one of those Greek yogurts?”
“They’re Marc’s, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”
“I’ll go shopping later and buy him a replacement.” She slammed the door shut and rummaged for a spoon. “And I’ll get some things for myself. This place is a carb castle.”
“We eat lots of protein,” he objected. “Just usually at the arena.”
“Or in a restaurant. But since you both make so much money, I guess that’s not an issue. I’ll get myself some chicken breasts, fish, and veggies.”
“Uh…you sure you slept okay? You sound kinda bitchy today.”
She gave him a slitty-eyed look. “Bitchy?”
“Uh…no, no, I mean…”
“I’m fine,” she snapped. She spooned up some of the yogurt and honey. “What are you doing today?”
“Uh…not sure. I thought you and I should have a talk…” His voice trailed off as she leveled him with another look.
“About what?”
“About your plans. Uh…why you quit your job…what happened with Richard…”
She continued to hold his gaze.
“Maybe this isn’t a good day.”
“Or maybe never is a good day.”
“C’mon, Lovey, I’m just concerned about you.”
“I’m fine.”
“Mom and Dad are worried about you too.”
“What?” She frowned.
“Mom emailed me and said you were coming. She wanted to make sure you’re okay, because you and Richard had broken up and she was worried your heart was broken and that’s why you’d taken off.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Oh. Um. Well, my heart’s not broken.”
“What happened with Richard?”
“He wanted to get married and have babies.”
A noise from behind her caused her to turn, and she saw Marc. Her stomach swooped and her heart gave a little bump. “Good morning. Would you like to hear about my screwed-up life too?”
He cast a wary look at Duncan. “Uh…”
Lovey waved her spoon. “Never mind. I’m sure you heard that last part. Richard was eleven years older than me. He was ready to settle down. I wasn’t. After I broke up with him, I couldn’t stay working at Kleinheinz, so I left. I wasn’t entirely happy there anyway. My creative ideas for marketing cheese weren’t really what they were looking for, and the whole nine-to-five thing bugged me.”
“You think that’s going to be different somewhere else?” Duncan asked.
Marc held up his hands. “I’ll come back.”
“No, no, don’t let me interfere with your breakfast.” Lovey pushed away from the counter where she leaned. “This is your place.” She held up the yogurt container. “I understand this is yours, but I’ll replace it later.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I’ll replace it. I know I’m butting in here and I don’t want to put you out. So are we done?” She looked at Duncan.
“Fuck no, we’re not done. What are you planning to do here in Chicago? I assume you’re going to look for another job?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Lovey, for Chrissakes…”
Her chest squeezed. She was not in the mood for this. She was irritable, impatient, and bad-tempered.