Slap Shot(27)
“And were you skating then?”
“Yes, I was on the local team, messing about, hitting pucks whenever I could be bothered to show up. I enjoyed it, I was good at it, so I decided it could be more, a bigger part of my life. Luckily my coach felt the same, and when I got out he was happy to give me a second chance.” He shrugged. “The rest is history.”
“You mean your rise to fame and fortune?”
“Yeah, my rise to fame and fortune.” His gaze harnessed mine. “But I’m still looking for one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“What a few of my teammates have found. Someone to spend time with, have fun with, get to know. Not some groupie who hangs around the bars near the rink hoping to score a hockey player, and certainly not some crazy stalker woman who sends me freaky letters and stuff. Someone nice and normal, someone who makes me smile and who makes me think about them when we’re not together.” His voice dropped low. “Someone who makes me so damn hot I feel as if I’ve been dropped in a volcano whenever she walks into a room.”
“I don’t think that’s me,” I said, shaking my head. But I wish it was, ’cause he’s making me so hot I’m about to combust.
“Let me be the judge of that,” he whispered. “Because I’m sure whatever is bothering you has been blown out of proportion. We all have broken parts of ourselves we prefer to hide, but trust me enough to tell me, please.” His mouth pressed against mine, soft and gentle but with more than a hint of determination.
He clearly wasn’t going to let up and I owed him an explanation after what he’d just shared with me. I should get it over with and tell him my story, brace myself for his disgust that I wasn’t the woman he presumed or with the background he imagined. The sooner the agony of him cutting me from his life was over the better, because one more damn kiss like this and I was going to be hooked. Well and truly hooked. I broke the kiss. “Okay,” I murmured. “I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you why I’m not the one for you.”
His gaze snared mine. A flash of triumph seared through the rich base of his chocolate-colored eyes.
My heartbeat trebled, and it was already going some to begin with. I’d never told anyone in my new life this, not even Maddie. “You were right, I do know Tina.”
He gave the barest of nods.
Beads of sweat were forming in my cleavage. I was nervous, terrified, but also a part of me was longing to be free of my secret now that I’d made the decision to divulge it. “I used to work with her.”
His expression was unreadable.
“At Mackay’s and Monte Carlo’s, downtown,” I went on.
“Clubs?”
“Yes, clubs.”
“What were you? Management or something?”
I shook my head.
“Waitress, bar staff?”
“No, Rick.” I braced my spine and tilted my chin, tried to keep the quaver from my voice. “I was a dancer, a pole dancer, a lap dancer, whatever type of dancing was required by the patrons. That was me, I did it all.”
His eyes widened.
“What you saw in there tonight.” I flung my hand in the direction of the cinema. “That used to be me. I would slide around a pole practically naked and then take money into my underwear.”
His chest puffed up as he pulled in a long breath. “Fuck, that’s some horny image you just created in my head.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You don’t get it, do you?” I slipped from him and rubbed my temples with my fingers. “It’s not just the dancing.”
He tilted his head. “You’ve lost me.”
“It was the lifestyle, the seedy clubs, the never-ending parties with drugs and gangs and…guns.”
He stood with his feet hip-width apart and shoved his hands deep into his jeans pockets.
“I wasn’t the person you see now. I was living hard, playing hard, taking what I could. I was considered a lowlife, society scum by everyone, including myself. But this Dana,” I swiped my hands down my body, “is new Dana. In-control businesswoman, astute, self-aware, independent.”
He pulled a hand from his pocket and raked it through his hair.
“And so what you think you want isn’t real, Rick. I’ve invented myself to be this person. Despite having parents who were glad to see the back of me, I was lucky enough to find a way out of the life I’d fallen into. If I hadn’t I would still be living hand-to-mouth and waking up with dealers who keep their stash and their weapons on the bedside table.”
He stared at me, those swirling chocolate eyes so dark they were almost black.
My breath juddered as though it might dissolve into sobs. “I should go,” I said, grabbing my purse and stepping toward the door. The words were out there, they couldn’t be taken back. Clearly he was as shocked and repulsed as I knew he would be.