Awk-Weird (Ice Knights, #2)(4)

“True,” she said, not seeming the least bit sorry. “But look how happy you’ve made them.”

Of course they were thrilled. The lucky bastards were going to be drinking on him all weekend—and he wasn’t going to hear the end of it pretty much ever. In fact, Christensen had that look that always preceded enough shit-talking to fertilize every cornfield in Nebraska.

“But now you have to figure out a way to get me out of here without it looking like a retreat so I don’t have to deal with all of that.” He waved a hand at the celebratory dance moves Christensen and Svoboda were trying to pull off. “That would be cruel and unusual punishment on top of that bar bill.”

She looked guilty for about three seconds, then said as she stood, “Well, we may have lost, but at least we don’t have to dance or anything like that.”

His fellow Ice Knights players clamped on to what she’d made to sound like a throwaway line that most definitely wasn’t.

“Dance! Dance! Dance!” they chanted in unison.

Not laughing wasn’t an option, so he gave in to what had lately been a foreign reaction. “What have you done?”

Given the fact that he’d had to almost yell to be heard over his idiot teammates, he wasn’t surprised when instead of hollering back, she raised herself up on her tiptoes and leaned in close.

“Giving you an escape,” she said, her lips nearly touching his ear. “Come on, once around the dance floor and we can go out through the conservatory doors with your fragile male ego mostly intact.”

He glanced over at the door on the other side of the mostly packed dance floor. It would take some weaving and skill to get through the crowd without looking like they were running, but he was a guy used to moving the puck through a line of professional athletes paid highly to get it away by stick or by check, so this would be easy.

Grinning down at her, he grabbed her hand. “Good plan.”

And it was, right up until they moved onto the dance floor and he had her in his arms. His steps were half a beat too slow but more due to his own inability to dance than the scotch. His hand spanned the small of her back, resting against the smooth silk of her skin exposed by the backless dress, and her head fit against the pocket of his shoulder, because of course it had changed to a slow song as soon as they stepped on the parquet.

He noticed everything about her as they swayed to the beat: the hitch of her breath when he brushed his thumb against her skin, the way she moved closer as they made their way across the floor, and the tease of her curly hair against his neck. All of it combined into a heady mix of anticipation and desire that had him searching for the door before he did something stupid like give in to the urge to kiss her in the middle of the dance floor.

Then she looked up at him, her full lips slightly parted and desire on full display in her eyes. Suddenly, doing something stupid seemed like a very good idea.

“On the count of three, we make a break for the door,” he said, forcing the words to almost sound normal.

And what came after that? Hell if he couldn’t wait to find out.





Chapter Two


Tess’s pillow was tickling her nose as it moved up and down in a smooth, steady rhythm as if it was taking deep, steady breaths. That made no sense unless— Her heart paused and her lungs stopped functioning as she jackknifed into a sitting position, her eyes squeezed closed because looking meant seeing and that meant— She peeked.

Oh my God. It hadn’t been a steaming-hot dream.

She’d had sex with Cole Phillips.

Cole.

Fucking.

Phillips.

Thor’s twin himself.

Multiple times.

In the conservatory.

In the foyer of his massive hotel room.

Finally, in the ginormous bed that was only being half used because they had been curled up together until about ten seconds ago.

Oh my fucking God.

She had obviously lost her mind. Oh sure, she could blame the three glasses of wine or the wedding atmosphere for helping to lower her guard, but one of Lucy’s clients? A professional athlete? A guy she’d just met?

Next to her, Cole started to move, his hand patting the bed for her. “It’s too early to get up, Mar—” He jolted up.

Now both of them were sitting in bed, staring at each other with horror-filled eyes and breathing as hard as if they’d just gotten done outrunning a pack of zombies.

Good thing she was the type of woman who accepted that fate had it in for her. If not, she would have been painfully disabused of that notion as soon as the metaphorical light bulb went on over her head that the first guy she’d had sex with in nearly forever had woken up thinking she was someone else. That would have been some real ouch right there.

“Tess,” she said, gathering the sheet close to her chest and scooting one butt cheek at a time over to the edge of the bed. “My name’s Tess.”

“Of course it is.” Cole shoved his fingers through his hair, and it magically fell untangled to his shoulders like he was in some kind of shampoo commercial. “I just wasn’t all the way awake.”

That wasn’t fair—his perfect morning hair, not what he said. A giant whatever on almost calling her someone else’s name, because it wasn’t like she had any delusions about who she was and who he was and what the hell had just happened. Nope. She was all about unvarnished truth regarding her interactions with all but a handful of people. It’s why she loved trivia. Facts were simple, straightforward, and easily defined. People were very much not that. Ever. Which she knew more than anyone and why the bold truth that she’d fallen prey to the wedding curse felt even worse. Judging by the way Thor’s twin’s gaze was darting all over the hotel room, landing on every piece of furniture twice but not her a single time, he didn’t get it.