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

kinds of volunteer work you do.”
He blinked. People always made such a big deal out of his community work, but it wasn’t a big deal. Not to him. The really big deal was the fortitude of the patients, their families, their friends. Witnessing their struggles was invariably awkward, but it was a privilege. And the fawning over what he was doing just embarrassed the shit out of him because it shone a spotlight he wasn’t comfortable standing in—it wasn’t about him. He was just a small actor on a huge stage in these people’s lives.
Staring at his full coffee cup, he spun it in small increments. “I visit hospitals. See kids, cancer patients.”
Cup poised at her lips, she blew softly across the coffee’s surface. “Those are set up by the team, right?”
“Yes, but there are some things I do on my own, like helping out with a sled hockey team.” When she frowned, he explained. “They’re guys with a variety of disabilities that keep them from standing upright, hence the sleds. I also sponsor a group of mini mites.”
More tapping, and she passed the phone back to him. “This is an example of the work I do. That’s the band’s website. If you hit the icons, you can check out their Tweets, Instagram, Pinterest, their Facebook page.”
Even on the small screen, the professional caliber was obvious, and it bowled him over. Not what he’d expected … just like her singing. Maybe she wasn’t the only one stuffing people into pigeonholes. He hit the white bird in the blue box and landed on the band’s Twitter account.
Gage handed back her phone. “Impressive.”
She dipped her head. “Thank you.” Her cheeks were shiny and pink again. “I enjoy it. It’s creative and fun.”
The waitress materialized by their table, and Gage lifted his chin at Lily. “Another milkshake?”
“No. I’m full, thanks.” Her plate wasn’t close to empty. “I should get home,” she added once the waitress had handed him the bill and moved on to the next table.
After paying, he followed her to her car and opened her door before climbing into his seat.
“Next stop, the arena,” she said.
“Yep.”
Where they had fallen into a spirited back-and-forth at the restaurant, a stilted silence now commandeered the air between them. Thoughts buzzed through his head like a swarm of wasps surprised out of their mud palaces by a water jet. While he hadn’t gotten everything off his chest, the need to do so had lost its urgency, replaced by a humming that brought to mind a rambunctious electrical current. He told himself it had to do with her organizing and answering his fan letters, saving him time; with improving his PR; with her managing his social media which, before tonight, he’d been blissfully unaware he needed. And while he wasn’t yet convinced he needed it, he couldn’t deny the spark in his belly that hadn’t been there mere hours before.
Not good.
That spark was the result of two forces dueling one another inside him: aggravation and enchantment. He had a decision to make, but he still didn’t have the answers he needed to make that decision. He found himself wanting more time to solve a mystery he wasn’t sure he could pinpoint. Like being armed with one puzzle piece and an array of boxes to match it to before he could hope to work the puzzle. Did he want to solve the puzzle sitting beside him? Treat it like the game. Don’t overthink it.
The round-domed arena loomed, and she flipped on her blinker.
He motioned toward the players’ parking lot, guiding her to his vehicle—the only one in sight.
After pulling alongside, she killed the engine. Overhead lights illuminated the car’s interior. Her hair glowed pale gold as she turned in her seat and faced him. “Look, I’m sorry about the way I left that night. I never should’ve—”
“It’s done,” he said blandly. “Though I am still curious why you found it necessary to run away. I’m the one who did the walk of shame.”
“Some walk of shame!” she scoffed. “What was it? Fifteen feet?” She paused, tucking a strand behind her ear. “For the record, I’m not in the habit of takingmen to bed. That night was an aberration for me.”
“Ah. I get that a lot from women I overpower with my charm.” Not.
She tilted her head, letting a smile show through. “Sarcasm aside, I’m sure you do. Also, for the record, I don’t recall you putting up a fight, Professor.”
“You caught me in a moment of weakness. Look, how about we just forget that night?” Like I can forget. “I’d like to see what you can do PR-wise, so let’s hit restart. You’re the consultant, and I’m the potential client you’re trying to sign. Dazzle me.”
“Strictly business?”
He drummed the dashboard while he regarded her. “Strictly business, though I’m still not convinced I should hire you in the first place. And we haven’t even discussed money yet.”
“Tell you what, Professor. I’ll do the job for free the first month and give you a chance to evaluate my work. If I don’t up your followers by another thousand, then no harm, no foul. If I do, then you’ll hire me for three months. A win-win with little risk to you. What do you say?”
A strange, fluttering sensation danced in his chest. Maybe it was a warning that the risk was, in fact, quite high. “I’ll think about it.”
Amusement flashed in her eyes as she raised her hand. “No hanky-panky. I swear.”
He almost laughed out loud at the old-fashioned term his grandmother was fond of using. “I’ll let you borrow my car, but no hanky-panky in the backseat, young man!”
“All right,” he said. “I leave tomorrow—make that later today—and I’m back in a week. Let’s see what you can do in that time.”
She broke out in a triumphant smile that gave his heart an unexpected squeeze. “You’re on, Professor.”
“I’ll need your number.” Ha! I’m finally getting it six months later.
As it rolled off her tongue and into his contacts, his