Gauging the Player: A One-Night-Stand Sports Romance (The Playmakers Series Hockey Romance Book 3)

“Why did you sneak out that night?”
Though she kept her eyes focused ahead, her expression softened. “Well, technically, it was morning.”
He gave his forehead a dramatic slap. “Ah. Of course. That makes all the difference in the world.”
“I left you a note.”
Gage was in no mood for cute. He blew out a breath that sounded like a cross between a deflating balloon and a seal’s bark. “Maybe we should take this conversation elsewhere?”
Her features morphed into panic-stricken.
He raised his hand. “Don’t worry. I’m not the least bit interested in a repeat of last time.”
A confused look replaced her alarmed one. “Right. Because you’re hanging with strippers. Silly me,” she muttered.
“You’ve got me all figured out, haven’t you?” he snapped. And immediately regretted it.
She shot him a dagger or two.
I guess I sounded a little harsh. In a softer tone, he said, “Sorry. Look, last summer you told me I was different. But now I’m lumped in with a faceless, nameless group of guys, even though you know little about me. That doesn’t seem fair.”
A few more quiet beats went by, and an overwhelming, inexplicable need to defend himself reared up. He sighed. “For the record, strip clubs aren’t my thing. A guy way up on the food chain told me to babysit my teammates. Didn’t have much choice.”
At a stop sign, she turned to him and offered an apologetic smile. “Sorry for the snark. I just assumed hanging out at strip clubs was what hockey players did in their spare time.”
“You know what they say about assuming.” Though it was dark in the car, he caught her eye-roll. “By the way, how come you were in that parking lot so late? Was that guy a … date?”
She flinched. “No. I run a weekly meeting in the office building,” she said softly. “It ran late, and Brett was concerned for my safety. I think.”
He wiped his palm along his thigh. “Yeah, I can see that.” Suddenly, his mouth took off before his brain could catch up. “There’s an IHOP on our way. Why don’t you let me buy you a cup of coffee for giving me a ride?” What am I thinking? Is IHOP really the place to continue this discussion? Not only did he want to figure what had happened, but part of him itched to tell her off too.
Gage had claimed his grandmother’s philosophy as his own: anyone entering his life’s orbit started out with a virtual stack of chips. Over time, a person’s behavior dictated whether chips were added or subtracted from their pile. His grandmother, for instance, had accumulated enough to fill dozens of warehouses to the brim. Likewise, his mother’s and sister’s stashes were in positive territory. Other people, though, not so much. Like Lily. He’d shortened her stack six months ago.
Yet here he was, inviting her to coffee instead of clearing the air right here, right now. Go figure.
“Does that coffee come with a carafe full of questions?” she chirped.
He swiveled his head. “Why? Have something to hide?”
She didn’t skip a beat. “Doesn’t everyone?”
The vehicle lurched to a stop at a red light when she hit the brakes too hard.
A thought that had been turning over in his mind since last July nudged him. “Are you … were you in a relationship when I met you?”
“Of course not! What do you take me—Never mind!” she barked.
Relief spiked in him while he simultaneously winced. “Sorry, but people aren’t always open.” His mind leapt to Hunter, whose girlfriend had dumped him after catching him bare-ass naked with someone else. “And not all relationships are monogamous either.”
“Ha! And here you are getting on my case about lumping you into a category.” Was she mad? Or just throwing sarcasm his way? He couldn’t tell.
The light turned green, and she surged the SUV forward. She was muttering under her breath, though he couldn’t make out any of the words. Mad. Got it. And now he felt like a tool for making her mad.
For some unfathomable reason, he really wanted that coffee, but his hope was disappearing quicker than a plate of bacon on a team breakfast table.
IHOP’s glaring signs a few blocks away caught Gage’s eye. In an attempt to lighten the moment, he let out a conciliatory chuckle. “Touché. Hello, Pot. My name’s Kettle. Truce?”
Her shoulders dropped from where they’d been hugging her ears.
He puffed out a long breath. “Look, I didn’t mean to offend you. Can I buy you that coffee and make up for being an assmunch? I promise not to push for answers you don’t want to give.” Ah. And now, for some other unknown reason, he was giving her wiggle room.
She took her time answering. “Truce. And yes, you can buy me a coffee.” A hint of a smile sounded in her voice. “So what do I call you? Professor? Admiral? Gage? Blues Boy?”
Blues Boy. She remembered. That’s worth a chip. His smile hitched a little higher. “Whatever works for you.”
A sudden, unexpected twinge of giddiness caught him off guard, but it was quickly swallowed up by the voice echoing between his ears. Danger, danger!

Chapter 4
Of Vampires and Pancakes
Lily’s heart hammered so loudly she was sure Gage Nelson could pick out the sound of it slamming against her ribcage. Oh Lord! Why hadn’t she U-turned out of his life the second she realized who was striding toward her SUV? What were the chances she’d run into him again? In the parking lot by the Sapphire Club, of all places! At eleven thirty at night! Although, she was grateful to swap him for Brett. I think so anyway. Not that Brett was being stalkerish—he seemed genuinely concerned for her safety. Problem was, he’d started talking and didn’t stop. He was just … so sad, and she’d felt guilty wanting to get rid of him. The whole scene had been sucking what little energy had remained in her tank, and she’d been grateful to escape.
Suddenly, though, energy wasn’t a problem. Here