The Romance Line (Love and Hockey Book 2)

Max

Almost there.

The destination is in my crosshairs.NôvelDrama.Org holds © this.

My sister shoots me a suspicious look as we cross the street. “Where are we going?”

“Just to grab a drink. That’s all,” I say as casually as I can, given my secret mission.

She hums doubtfully. “You never call and ask me to grab a drink on a random weeknight.”

“Can’t a brother take his little sister out after work? It was a long day, right?”

“I’m a nurse. It’s always a long day,” she says.

“Then it’s a good thing I called,” I say. “Even better that Kade’s on a playdate.”

Better still because it means Sophie’s here in the city hanging out for another hour, which ties in perfectly with my pre-dinner-meeting plans. Better yet because I’ve got a wingwoman. “In fact, I’d call it kismet. ”

She snort-laughs. “Kismet, Max? It’s kismet, you asking me to go to The Spotted Zebra instead of, say, McCoy’s?”

That’s the bar near the urgent care where she works. I shoot her a don’t-be-silly look. “You don’t want to run into colleagues, do you?”

She points to the pink neon sign for The Spotted Zebra, twenty or thirty feet away now. “This is a trendy bar. A date bar. They have fancy craft cocktails. It’s not a hang-out-with-your-sister bar. You’re up to something, Max Lambert. Mark my words. I will find out,” she says.

She’s right. She probably will figure it out. But I don’t care. Right now I care about one thing—checking out Everly’s date. No way is he the right guy for her.

Like when I’m on the ice, I’ve got blinders on. I’m single-minded in my mission.

Stop. That. Date.

When I reach the door of The Spotted Zebra, I yank it open, then scan the establishment. There they are, at a table by the window. My jaw ticks. I clamp my molars down. He looks sooo fucking nice, and I hate him on principle.

I march over to the hostess. “We’ll grab a seat at the bar, please,” I say. Naturally, I’ll stop by her table first, but I don’t need to reveal the details to the hostess.

“Of course,” she says, but as we’re heading over there, I look toward Everly’s table the whole time, waiting, just waiting for her to catch my eye.

Doesn’t take long—all of two seconds till she’s looking my way.

Like she wants to kick me in the balls. Her annoyance only stokes the flame inside me .

A hand curls around my forearm. “Max.” My sister’s tone is low and dripping with accusation. “She’s why you came here.”

I turn to her, grinning like a sly fox. “You think so?”

She shakes her head. “What are you doing?”

“Just saying hi,” I say, then I beeline for the table, flashing my best PR smile, my sister trailing behind me. Bonus? I can prove to Everly that I can be a nice guy for the press. I can put on an act. She’ll be pleased.

I channel Asher, or Miles, as I say, “Hey, Everly. How the heck are you?”

Her lips part, but she says nothing, just closes them into a tight, angry smile. But she’s also the queen of putting on a good face, since in seconds she slides on her happy mask. “Great. How are you, Max?”

“Fantastic,” I say, selling it to the jury. “What a surprise to see you here. My sister and I were just grabbing a drink.”

I can feel my sister roll her eyes rather than see it. I turn to my nemesis. “Max Lambert. With the Sea Dogs. Nice to meet you,” I say, then stick out a hand toward the guy with the woman who I think about far too much.

He stands and shakes. “Good to meet you, Max. Lucas Evans…with Golden Gate Health Center and Services.”

I flinch, but only for a second. The dude’s in health care. I didn’t see that coming. Also, he’s not easily intimidated. But that doesn’t mean she should date him. That doesn’t mean a thing. I shove those thoughts aside and check out the table. He’s got a beer, and she has…an Arnold Palmer?

“Your drink looks good. What have you got there, Ev?”

She squares her shoulders. “It’s called an iced tea. It has…tea and ice in it,” she deadpans, with faux pleasantry. She’s more pissed than I’d thought.

But I’m not easily deterred. “I’ll have to try one then,” I say, then glance around. “This is such a nice place. I’ve never been here before.”

“How did you hear about it then?” she asks, the clever genius trying to nail me.

I shrug, then scratch my beard. “Googled places nearby.”

“How convenient,” she says, sarcastic. Then she turns to my sister, her tone genuine as she says, “It’s good to see you, Sophie.”

“You too,” my sister says.

I turn to the golden guy who’s dating Everly. Maybe he’s a doctor. Instantly, I loathe him more. That means she likes brainy guys, rather than guys who work with their bodies. “So, you’re in health care?”

He furrows his brow, perhaps taken aback. Maybe it’s a pushy question, but whatever. The dude quickly shifts to a smile though, answering easily, “Yes, I’m a physical therapist and help patients recover from injury or surgery.”

Fuuuuck. Is he the guy who helped her with…her car accident? I bet he is. And it’s official. No need to ask Reddit. I am the asshole . I swallow, then hitch my thumb behind me. “I’ll let you?—”

“Did you want to join us?” Lucas asks, tilting his head. “Sounds like you two know each other well.”

Everly was right. He is a nice guy. But the fact that he said that— want to join us —means he’s also not right for her. Whether I’m the asshole or not, I jump on the chance faster than I’d slap a puck away from the net. “Yes,” I say before Everly can say no.

We join Everly on her date. Date-crashing achieved .

Across the table, the blonde beauty with the big brown eyes stares at me like she wants to kill me. Well, she already hates me, so what else is new? But I know this—I did the right thing joining her.

“Why don’t I call the server over? So you two can order?” Lucas offers.

“Great idea,” I say.

Lucas flags the woman down, and I order a pale ale while Sophie opts for a soda. When the server leaves, Sophie smiles apologetically and says to the table, “I have to pick up my son in a little bit. He has a playdate.”

“How is Kade doing?” Everly asks, focusing all her energy on my sister.

“He’s great. They’re making homemade playdough so I suspect that means I’ll be making homemade playdough with him this weekend,” she says.

“I would count on that for sure,” Lucas says, chiming in, then turning to me. “So, how’s your team doing so far this season? I have to admit I don’t follow hockey that closely. I’m more of a football fan myself.”

“I love football,” Everly coos. “It’s so much more strategic than hockey, don’t you think, Lucas?”

He blinks, maybe surprised that a publicist for a hockey team would say such a thing. I’m not confounded though. That comment was a dig at me, and I fucking love that because it says I’m under her skin. Good, because she’s burrowed so deep under mine.

“Football has definitely got some great plays to it,” Lucas says, diplomatic.

“But hockey’s more of a thrill,” I say, locking eyes with Everly. “The adrenaline rush. The faster pace. The breakneck speed. ”

“Speed isn’t everything,” Everly retorts, those brown eyes saying she is going to lay into me later.

Bring it on, sunshine.

“Truer words,” Sophie says, cutting in and playing the peacemaker. “But I do like both. Equally. ”

I ignore my sister. I’ve got a game to win with the woman who drives me wild. I keep my gaze locked entirely on Everly. “I read an article that said the average football play lasts four seconds. But the average amount of continuous play in hockey is forty seconds. Which means…hockey lasts longer,” I say, full of innuendo.

“But on the other hand,” Everly counters, “football players can’t be drafted till they’re three years removed from high school. Which means they’re more… grown up than hockey players,” she says with a sweet smile as she delivers a beautiful dig.

“In hockey the refs never give you the puck after the other team scores, like they do in football. On the ice, you have to fight for it,” I say, and this guy? He’d never fight for her. I know that for a fact.

“In hockey, you don’t need much skill. All you do is wave a stick,” Everly counters.

I see her bid and I raise the ante one more time. “And finally, the hockey season lasts twenty-six weeks, not including playoffs. Football is eighteen weeks. Ergo, hockey players have more stamina.” Crossing my arms, I rest my case.

“You both make great points,” Sophie says as the server returns with the drinks.

Once we thank her, I take a sip of my beer.

Lucas shoots Everly a serious look, then me, before he blows out a breath. “I have to ask,” he says, pausing to lick his lips, then to laugh, almost apologetically. “Did you two date?”

I nearly spit-take my beer.

Everly coughs. “No. Never.”

“Tell me how you really feel,” I counter.

“Because I’m getting a vibe,” Lucas adds.

“Funny, Lucas. I get that vibe too,” Sophie says pointedly.

“We definitely did not date,” Everly says, then finishes her tea, takes a breath, and peppers Sophie and Lucas with questions for the next thirty minutes till the date mercifully ends.

I push back first, slap down a hundred to pay the bill for the table, then say goodbye, heading to the street with my sister. Once we’re outside, she pokes my chest. “We are going to talk about what you did.”

“Yes, Mom,” I say, but I don’t make a move to leave yet to drop her off at Kade’s friend’s home. I watch the door, waiting for Everly. They leave a few seconds later, waving goodbye awkwardly, then Lucas walks down the street the other way.

As Sophie waits for me, I trot over to Everly, gesturing to my car down the block. “Want a ride to dinner?”

She breathes fire. “Are you kidding me? I do not want a ride. I’m calling a Lyft.”

“I have my car. Let me drive you.”

“I’d rather walk barefoot,” she seethes as she taps open the app.

“Everly,” I say. “We’re going to the same restaurant.”

“Don’t Everly me,” she hisses as she orders her ride, then stares me down. “Why did you do that?”

“Because he’s wrong for you,” I say with no remorse. “And I knew it the second he invited me to join you. ”

“I guess I’ll never know now though if he is,” she snaps, and seconds later, a red Honda pulls up. She gets inside and slams the door.

On the one hand, she doesn’t just hate me. She loathes me till the end of time. On the other hand, she’s not having a second date with him.

I’ll chalk that up as a win.