Страница 31

No answer came to mind.

Of course, that was the problem between them: that sense he had that she had desires she wouldn't tell him. He would never have guessed she would do a thing like this.

He didn't like this kind of surprise, where he was left confused and uncertain as to motives. Though he'd felt a certain pleasure at knowing she was watching. James had watched a couple of his games, but no one else ever had.

He dried off and dressed quickly, taking part in the conversation around him with only half his attention until one of the guys, Frank, slapped him on the shoulder.

"Buffy, you dog! Here we all thought you were gay. Not that there's anything wrong with that! But jeez, no one remembers ever seeing a girlfriend of yours."

"You think I'd bring one to this place?"

Frank clamped his hand to his heart. "You wound me! You're ashamed of us?"

"Hey, you going to take her to Harold's?" Tom asked.

"That's cruel and unusual," Russ answered. "I don't want to scare her off."

"All serious girlfriends are required to spend one evening at Harold's," Frank said. "It's tradition."

"God knows they wouldn't want to spend a second," Russ said. "I don't think Emma would enjoy it."

"Of course she won't," Greg joined in, gri

Russ tied his shoes, trying to keep his face impassive. He obviously couldn't explain why Emma didn't quaHfy for a Harold's initiation.

"You can't give her up!" Tom said. "Christ, she's gorgeous! You'll never get your hands on someone like that again!"

"I'm shocked he got a woman like that the first time," Frank said, standing with beer in hand, a towel wrapped around his hairy, pot-bellied waist. "After all, he doesn't have my hot body going for him."

Russ laughed and picked up his gear. "Yep, you've got a great twelve-pack."

Frank patted his gut. "Any woman would be proud to call this her own."

Russ headed out to the lobby, not knowing if Emma would still be there, but wanting to get to her before his teammates if she was. He had no idea what he would say to her; all he knew was that he had to get to her and find some answers.

Emma watched the Zamboni trundle around the ice and tried not to think about what Russ was going to say when he emerged from the locker room.

"I'll bet he's happy to see you," Daphne said, interrupting her determined oblivion. "You saw the way he raised his stick to you each time he scored. He was glad you were here."

"I don't know. Maybe he was just being polite. I was yelling his name, after all. His friends would have noticed if he'd ignored me."

"You worry too much. I'll bet he was flattered, and I'll bet you'll get some amazing sex out of it."

"I thought the point of this was to move beyond that."

"Not beyond it," Daphne said. "Just in addition to it."

Emma worried that she might have lost it completely with this stunt.

She heard a noise and turned.

Russ.

He set his bag and sticks down and came toward her, and there wasn't a smile on his face. Just an unsettling look of intensity. She couldn't tell what he was feeling, except that it was focused on her. She plastered a smile of greeting on her lips and hoped he didn't see the quavering uncertainty that she felt.

"Emma. I was surprised to see you came to the game."

"Russ! Yes, hi. Er… this is my friend Daphne."

Russ put out his hand and shook Daphne's. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you, too." Daphne gri