“It wasn’t that big a deal, honestly. You’re blowing this way out of proportion. I wanted to watch how hard you were working—which is very hard, by the way. I saw an opening and I took it. Lawrence was happy to let me watch. It’s not like I’m in here with some camera taking pictures that I’m going to sell to competitors or to the paparazzi, and he knows that. I wanted to see my girlfriend dance, and he gets to surprise his boyfriend with season tickets to the Travelers games. It’s a win/win.”

There were so many things wrong with what he’d just said, but she’d zeroed in on the one word that made her sweat more than all the grueling hours of rehearsal she went through.

“I’m not your girlfriend.”

“Oh, I see. So I should have said ‘that chick I’m fucking’?”

She rubbed the side of her head. “You’re giving me a headache.”

“And I don’t get why this is a thing. What’s wrong with me watching you dance? I told you the other day I hadn’t seen you dance yet, and I wanted to. I figured this was a great opportunity. I’m sorry it freaked you out.”

It had freaked her out. For so many reasons it made her head spin.

He pulled out his phone. “Listen, I gotta go. You looked amazing up there—like you were born to be on the stage. See you at the game tonight?”

She nodded mutely, and he turned and left.

No good-bye. No kiss. No . . . anything.

Then again, she’d been the one to rain on his parade, hadn’t she? So what did she expect? Flowers and him bending her over backwards with a swooning kiss? He’d tried to surprise her with something sweet, and she’d been a major bitch about it.

She was a moron.

A moron who didn’t know what she wanted.

***

“I don’t understand women.”

Trick sat in the locker room after an intense late afternoon practice with his team.

Drew was sitting next to him and nudged him with his shoulder. “Dude. We’re not supposed to. That whole mystery thing is what’s so fun about them.”

Trick shook his head and stared down at his skates. “I don’t know. This whole thing with Stella is about as mysterious as waking up after an all-night bender with one hell of a hangover, cotton mouth, and no memory of the night before. Only you know you had a shitty night and not a good time.”

Drew gave him a look. “That bad, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Wanna talk about it? Maybe I can help.”

He gave Drew a look. “I don’t know. Stella gives me mixed signals. She’s with me, but it’s like she doesn’t really want to be.”

“Carolina would likely say that maybe Stella’s scared of commitment.”

Trick snorted. “Wow, you’ve learned some things.”

“I pick stuff up here and there. Living with a woman will do that to you. But seriously, have you talked to her about it?”

“She’s not really into talking about the deep shit.”

Drew’s brows rose. “And you are? Since when?”

“I don’t know. I guess since Stella.”

“Huh. Big admission for you, since you were always such a player.”

Trick shrugged. “Maybe I don’t want to be a player anymore. Now I just have to convince Stella.”

Drew laughed and slapped Trick on the back. “Try talking to her, and keep talking until she hears what you’re saying.”

“I guess.”

“Now, enough about women. We have a big game tonight and you need your focus.”

Drew was right about that. He had to shake off thoughts of Stella and put them where they belonged.

On the game, where they were supposed to be.

They needed this win tonight.

After they kicked Detroit’s ass, he’d turn his attention back on the woman who was currently tying his stomach up in knots.

Chapter Ten

Stella met Carolina in the club suite.

“You look hot, as always,” Carolina said.

Stella looked down at her black skinny jeans, her knee-high boots, and her green sparkly top that she’d covered with a leather jacket. “I thought I was dressed kind of average tonight.”

Carolina looped her arm through Stella’s. “Honey, you are anything but average. You look gorgeous.”

“So do you. I’m in love with that cream jacket. The strategic placement of those zippers is killing me.”

Carolina laughed. “Of course. It’s always about the zippers for you, isn’t it?”