Trivial Pursuits (Chicago On Ice Book 2) (8 page)

“Arrgh! Fine. We’ll hang out here first, then when it’s the normal time when they come out, we’ll head on down to the lounge area and wait outside like two kids waiting for the bus to come pick them up after school. Happy?”

I grin. “Very. Thank you.”

Aubrey laughs. “You’re a nut, but I love you. Come on, let’s go people watch until it’s time to catch the bus.”

I can’t help but laugh. I so love Aubrey.

We make our way into Stampede, and people seem to be in a good mood in spite of the loss. Aubrey and I grab a table, but decline drinks. I figure I’ll have something with Landon later anyway.

And the whole time we’re sitting there, I’m distracted. I have a nervous energy zipping through me, one of anticipation. Of what will happen tonight. Will it go the way I hope? And if it does, will he kiss me?

Wait. If he does kiss me, will he think I’m a good kisser? Landon has kissed lots of women. Okay. I don’t want to think about how many he has kissed.

Or slept with, for that matter.

Regardless, Landon’s all kinds of experienced.

And I’m all kinds of not.

I’ve kissed like five men. Wait. Four. My first kiss was with a British exchange student who was sixteen. And shoved his hand down my blouse at the same time, so that doesn’t count as kissing a man but being mauled by an idiot boy.

So four. I’ve kissed four guys since I was sixteen.

Only two of them more than once.

Gaaaaaaaaaaaah!

“What is going on up there?” Aubrey suddenly asks.

I shake my head. “You don’t even want to know. I’m seriously crazy.”

“But I chose you as my crazy bestie, so you have to tell me.”

“What if I kiss Landon and he thinks I’m a terrible kisser?”

Aubrey furrows her brow. “What? What does that even mean?”

I feel my face grow warm. “You know I’ve only kissed two men seriously, Aubrey. Landon has kissed, well, a significantly higher ratio than me.”

“So?”

“Not so! What if I’m terrible compared to the experienced women he’s kissed?”

“Hmmm,” Aubrey says, her face growing reflective.

I wrinkle my nose. This is not the reaction I need right now. Aubrey is supposed to tell me I’m nuts. That I’m way overthinking this.

“Hmmm?” I prod.

Aubrey bites her lip. “I never thought of this. Landy
has
kissed a lot of women.”

I freeze. Oh shit. Even my best friend thinks my concern is legitimate.

“Right,” I murmur, nerves attacking my stomach.

“So it’s natural he would compare, I’m sure.”

Aubrey is really not helping me like a best friend should right now.

“I bet Landy has this mental scorecard in his head,” Aubrey continues, “and when he kisses a girl, he ranks her in his catalog of all the girls he has ever kissed. Which I’m sure is close to a thousand.”

I study her. She can’t be serious. A thousand?

“Will you
stop?
” Aubrey suddenly cries. “I’m kidding!”

“Oh, thank God,” I say, exhaling.

“Livy,” she says firmly, “I guarantee you Landy won’t be thinking about anyone other than you when you kiss for the first time. I promise you that.”

I nod, but I’m not totally convinced.

“And,” she says, glancing down at her phone and swiping it for a second, “I doubt you suck. For real.”

“Do you see what is happening? Landon is making me lose my mind. And we haven’t even kissed. I’m going to be a mess if he kisses me.”

And I know there will be no recovering from it.

“Well, time to find out,” Aubrey says, interrupting my thoughts.

“What?”

“Beckett says they’re going to head out. So get out your ChapStick because you’re about to test those waters with one Landy Holder right now.”

Chapter 11

TriviaPlayOrPass!

True or False: The lips are 100 times more sensitive than the fingertips.

DesignerA, play or pass to Scott921?

I am a nervous wreck as we take an elevator down to the bottom level of the arena. Aubrey’s texting something to Beckett on her phone. I glance over and I see a million different emojis being added, and I’m sure if she’s using the little green-faced sick one, she’s talking about me.

“Ooooh, Landy told Beckett you two are meeting up tonight,” Aubrey teases as she reads his message.

“Didn’t you tell Beckett that?” I ask.

The elevator chimes, and my stomach flips over in response.

“I did, but it’s quite interesting that Landy is the one bringing it up, don’t you think?” Aubrey says.

“Here you are, ladies,” the elevator attendant says. “Have a good night, Ms. Aubrey.”

“You too, Sylvia. See you next week,” Aubrey says cheerfully.

We step off, and I turn to Aubrey.

“Did Landon say hook up or meet up?” I ask urgently as this thought strikes me.

Aubrey stops dead in her tracks. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it does, I don’t want to be one of his two thousand hook ups.”

“Good girl. I’m glad to see you haven’t thrown all your core values out the window for him, no matter how charming he is or how sexy his tats are. But Landy said
meet up.
”

“I’m so going to kill you,” I declare.

Aubrey laughs wickedly. “Just making sure you keep your underwear on tonight. Did you wear a pair with Minions on them so you aren’t tempted? Hello Kitty? Something equally off-putting? Although I doubt anything would put Landy off you, my friend.”

Now I know my face is flaming.

“Shut up,” I say, laughing.

Aubrey leads me down a long corridor, and it’s cold and very stark. All concrete, with no décor or anything. The WAGS lounge must be like the basement den off the side of the laundry room, I muse.

“When we turn this corner, we’ll find the WAGS lounge,” Aubrey says softly, so only I can hear her. “And that’s where the guys will meet us.”

I nod.

We turn the corner, and I see signs designating several rooms. There’s the ‘Media Lounge’ for the press, then the ‘Buffaloes Family Lounge’ to designate the area for the WAGS.

I see several players walking around, all dressed sharply in suits. I excitedly look for Landon, and then I spot him.

I stop dead in my tracks. He’s oh-so-sexy. He’s wearing a dark-gray three-piece suit, white dress shirt, a vest, and his black cashmere overcoat. His hair is tousled and he’s smoking hot.

I’m about to go up and greet him when I hear a woman say his name.

“Landy,” the voice calls out.

I watch as Landon turns behind him. A gorgeous woman approaches him, one with glossy, chestnut hair that is stunning even in this crappy tunnel lighting. She’s tall and willowy, and she’s wearing a pair of super skinny leather jeans, fantastic over-the-knee leather boots-shit—are those
Louboutins
?—and a V-neck sweater that is tight and shows off her ample breasts.

She flashes him a brilliant smile and moves to hug him. And as he hugs her back, my stomach completely bottoms out. My heart is pounding, but not in the delicious, excited way it was before. I stand frozen, wondering if this is what being with Landon will always be like, wondering if these girls are part of his past? Or, I realize with a heavy heart, last night? Or is she a woman he has lined up for tomorrow?

Panic starts to swirl in my chest. This is bad. I can’t do this. Not after what happened with Tr—

“Kayla Paine,” Aubrey says, her eyes locked straight on her.

I blink. “What?”

I watch as Landy and Kayla step out of their hug. Kayla has her hand on his arm, holding it as she talks to him.

Aubrey leans in toward me, so she can speak privately. “She’s dating the goalie,” she explains.

“Mountain Man?” I ask, incredulous.

Mountain Man is the nickname we’ve given Ben Reese, the goalie for the Buffaloes. He’s gruff. In his media interviews, he bluntly answers the question and nothing more and he never seems joyful, even off the ice. Like in charity events I’ve seen him pose for pics, but there’s no expression on his face. Zero. Even with cute children or puppies. It’s blank. I know Beckett hates public stuff, but even he can smile for a picture. But not Mountain Man. I really think he’d be happier living back in a cabin in remote Canada, where he’s from, than be in the spotlight for the Chicago Buffaloes.

But what makes him Mountain Man is his incredibly long, straggly, black beard. Gah, it’s
horrible.
He’s nobody I would find attractive, looks-wise or in personality.

So the fact that the gorgeous Kayla Paine is his girlfriend is mystifying.

And if she is dating Mountain Man, why is her hand still on Landon’s arm? Kayla is smiling up at him, nodding to whatever Landon is saying. She seems very comfortable with him.

Too comfortable.

“Trouble.”

I wrinkle my nose as another warning blares in my head. This is stupid. Kayla and Landon might be old friends for all I know. I shake the thought from my head and move forward, toward Landon.

Suddenly Landon turns his head and sees me. And as soon as he does, his face lights up with a huge smile.

The tension leaves my body, and the butterflies resume their dance in my stomach. That smile tells me everything I need to know right now.

Landon is happy to see me, just as I am to see him.

“Oh, I think I see Beckett,” Aubrey says, breaking through my thoughts. “I’ll talk to you later, Livy.”

“Okay,” I say, my gaze still on Landon. “Good night.”

Then Aubrey leaves me to meet Beckett.

Landon has all my attention now. He immediately steps away from Kayla and moves toward me.

“Livy,” he says, his eyes shining at me. “Good to see you.”

Then, to my surprise, he embraces me in a hug.

As I feel his arms move around me, I’m acutely aware of so many things: how warm his body feels against mine. That his chest is solid and muscular underneath the fabric of his vest and dress shirt. And that oh-so-sensual leather and vanilla cologne of his deliciously wraps around me.

But most of all, this feels good. Right. I immediately know these arms are the right place for me to be.

Landon steps back and smiles at me. “Hi.”

I see that he has stitches over his left eyebrow.

“Is your head okay?” I ask, concerned.

“This?” Landon asks, briefly putting his fingertips near the cut. “This is nothing.”

I resist the urge to touch his face in a soothing way and refocus on the conversation.

“I’m sorry about the game.”

Landon shakes his head. “I hate losing.
Hate it.
”

“I can imagine,” I say softly. Landon never quit out there. He kept fighting and fighting, and I understand now this is his personality. When it’s something that means something to him, he fights for it. Like Beckett. Like stopping those shots. He’s relentless when it has meaning.

“But you get mad and move forward. You leave the past behind and go to the next game,” he says, interrupting my thoughts.

His words hit me.
You leave the past behind.

Landon is right. Clean slate. Right here, right now, to see where we go.

“Landy, I’m sorry to interrupt,” Kayla says as she approaches Landon. “But again, I wanted to thank you for your advice. You’re so sweet, always here to talk to me. I appreciate it more than you know.”

“Sure, no problem,” Landon says casually, nodding at her. “Hey, Kayla, this is Livy Adams. Livy, this is Kayla Paine.”

I study her carefully. Her face is bright and smiling at me, but I see something different in her eyes. They aren’t light and happy like when she was looking at Landon. The gaze has shifted to dark and assessing. Fixed on me like a cat locks in on prey.

Trouble,
I think.
Kayla is trouble.

Suddenly her gaze abruptly changes, and her smile grows wider. “Hello, Livy, it’s so nice to meet you,” she says sweetly. “Are you a friend of Landy’s?”

I’m about to answer when Landon speaks first.

“She’s my date tonight,” he says.

My heart leaps from Landon’s words. He’s letting it be known that I’m his date. This is huge.

Kayla’s eyes narrow for a brief moment. Then they return to wide-eyed and bright-looking.

“Oh, great, well, I won’t keep you then,” Kayla says. “I’m going to wait in the lounge for Ben. My poor bear. He’s had a rough go of it lately.”

“Night, Kayla,” Landon says. “Hang in there.”

“Nice meeting you, Livy,” Kayla says. “Hopefully I’ll see you again!”

Hopefully.
As if she expects me to go out with Landon once and never come back.

And maybe in the past that was common with the girls Landon took out.

But this isn’t the past.

It’s my now.

“Likewise,” I lie, smiling back at her.

Kayla turns and goes into the WAGS lounge, leaving me with Landon.

Landon smiles at me as we begin walking. “So what are you up for tonight?”

Nerves shoot through me. I know Landon is big on the Chicago social scene, usually being snapped at bars and clubs after games.

And while I like going out for drinks with friends, that’s not what I want for this evening.

“I would like to do more of what we did last night,” I say. “Hang out at your place.”

“Yeah?” Landon asks, leading me down a different corridor.

“Yeah,” I say. “Don’t get me wrong, I like going out, but it’s hard to get to really know someone by shouting questions at them in a bar.”

We enter the area where the players park their cars, and I’m faced with rows of chic European sports cars, high-priced SUVs and luxury sedans.

I realize I’m entering a different world, the one that Landon lives in. It’s a world of money. Celebrity. Tables with bottle service at chic clubs. An endless supply of beautiful women for hook ups. Of people saying yes at every turn.

Which is very different from my world of living at home with my parents. Of struggling to get enough art classes booked and jewelry orders strung together to hopefully scrape up enough money to rent a crappy efficiency apartment one day. Of going on job interviews and being told it was a close call, but they hired the other candidate.

Landon stops walking. “So what exactly does ‘really know me’ mean?”

I pause for a moment. I gaze up into his eyes and see a questioning expression in them. Wondering where I’m going with this and exactly how much I want from him.

I realize this is the moment where we take a tentative step together, to see if our worlds can fit, or if Landon will take a step back.

“This is a part of who I am,” I say quietly. “I
want
to know more about you. I want to hear more about your past. Your family. Your disappointments. Your dreams. I know this is a lot to ask, but this is important to me. I want to know you. Not Landy. I need to know
Landon.
”

My heart pounds nervously. Landon’s eyes never waver from mine.

“People don’t want to know Landon,” he says softly. “Landy is who they want.”

My heart soars from his words. He’s not running.

“I already know Landy from social media,” I say firmly. “I want to know
you.
”

Landon is silent as he considers my words. Then he cocks an eyebrow at me. “That’s a dangerous proposition, DesignerA. And you don’t strike me as a risk-taker.”

Oh, if he only knew the truth. That I’m risking my heart by even entertaining the idea of seeing him. Potentially falling for him.

But Landon is a risk my heart is more than willing to take.

“Maybe I’m in the mood for danger tonight,” I say.

“Maybe I am, too,” he says, his eyes never leaving mine.

Oohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

“Come on, let’s go,” Landon says, nodding in the direction of a red Ferrari. “Unless you want to get to know me in the basement of the arena.”

I laugh. “Okay.”

Landon escorts me to the passenger side of his sports car. I stare at it and shake my head.

“What?” he asks.

“This car,” I say, staring at it. “You have a
Ferrari.
”

I stare at the gorgeous, glossy red car in front of me, with the famous horse on the yellow background on the hood. And this sleek car oozes sex appeal.

Like Landon.

“Wanna drive it?”

I whip around and stare at him. “What? Oh, no. I couldn’t!”

“Why not? Do you know how to drive a stick?”

“Yes, but what if I wrecked it?”

“Are you in the business of crashing cars?”

“No, of course not. But your car is ridiculous expensive. It’s a supercar!” I protest. “I couldn’t afford to fix it if I did.”

“Listen, I swear I’ll take full financial responsibility if we get in a fender bender.”

“Landon, no. I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” Landon challenges. Then to my surprise, he takes my hand, and when I feel his fingers against my skin, sparks shoot through me.

He turns my hand over and holds his keys over my palm.

“You said you wanted to be dangerous tonight,” Landon says, his eyes intense. Then he drops the keys to his Ferrari into my hand. “Prove it.”