Offside (29 page)

“San Francisco, huh. Well, anywhere
else would be lucky to have you. But I mean it when I say, I hope
you’ll stay. You can think about it. Is a few days
enough?”

“Yes. Yes, that’s fine.”

“Let me know by the end of the week.
We’ll still have time to look for a replacement if you decide to
leave. I really hope you don’t, though.”

She rose from her chair and smoothed
down her skirt. “Thank you.”

Wow. Just…wow. She returned to her
cubicle in a daze.

He’d noticed the work she’d done. And
things had gotten better there, with the others actually talking to
her and involving her in work discussions.

But last night, lying in bed, she’d
thought about leaving when the three months was up. She probably
shouldn’t have come back to Los Angeles. Even though she’d had the
job Dad had gotten her, and she’d been scared of not being able to
find one on her own, she probably should have stayed away and made
a new life for her somewhere else. She’d been stupid to think she
could do it here, where her past would probably always haunt
her.

It made her sad, for a variety of
reasons. She’d miss being closer to her brothers and their kids.
She’d miss Farrah and Mia. And she didn’t even want to let herself
think about how much she’d miss Matt, but that didn’t matter
because she was going to miss him even if she stayed.

She gave her head a shake as her phone
rang. She picked it up.

“Hey, Honey, it’s Bryn.”

Huh. She hadn’t really expected Bryn
to call.

“Remember I offered to help at the
gala. Just following up on that.”

She’d come through. Wow. That was so
nice.

“Yeah,” Honey said. “I remember. So,
um, I could use some help for about a half hour selling silent
auction tickets, if you don’t mind.”

“Aw, that’s nothing! I can do that.
What time?”

They made arrangements, chatted a
little about the evening at the club. Bryn didn’t even mention the
stupid tabloid coverage. Huh.

Weirdly, that made her feel sadder,
because it would’ve been cool if Bryn and Joe and she and Matt
could have hung out together as couples.

Chapter Twenty-one

Matt arrived at the Loews Hotel
Thursday evening in another town car, all duded up in his tux. He
fidgeted with the bow tie as he entered the hotel lobby, looking
for the ballroom where the gala was to take place. Cocktails and
the silent auction started at six o’clock, followed by dinner and
entertainment at seven.

He still hadn’t talked to Honey or
heard dick from her other than that fucked-up email she’d sent him.
He’d gotten back in the middle of the night and had headed home for
some sleep in his own bed. He’d slept like crap all week. Weirdly
he hadn’t played like crap. Somehow his frustrations had turned
into intensity on the ice and he was playing better than
ever.

Although along with that intensity
came a brutally physical game, meaning he was sore as hell.
Whatever.

He was going to hunt down Honey and
they were going to have that fucking talk he’d wanted to have last
weekend. He’d been so wound up and furious that night he’d sent her
home, thinking they’d talk the next day. Now he regretted it and
wished he dragged her up to his apartment and had things out then
and there.

He spotted a couple of the guys, Joe
and Frankie, and headed toward them. “Hey, man,” he said slapping
Joe on the shoulder. “Nice monkey suit.”

“You too.”

The both rolled their eyes.

“Where’s Bryn?”

“She’s over there selling silent
auction tickets. Come on, we have to drop some cash.”

It was for a good cause. Matt tagged
along as they went to survey the prize offerings. Which were
fucking awesome. People were going crazy buying tickets and
deciding what draws they wanted to enter.

He kept looking around, looking for
Honey. He wasn’t sure what she was wearing so he kept looking for
her shiny blonde hair in the crowd. Of course, this was California
and every other woman was blonde.

Not like her though.

Holy shit, there was Amanda Seyfried.
And Shia Leboeuf.

Then he saw her. Across the room,
standing talking to a small group of people. Like that night at
Eden, she fit right in here. In an elegant black dress, black shoes
with the highest, skinniest heel he’d ever seen, her hair pulled up
into a stylish bun, she looked classy and gorgeous. Her smile
beamed as she talked, and from there it looked like everyone there
was hanging on her every word. Especially the old guys.

And yet, their attitude was respectful
and attentive. Not salacious. And the women weren’t much different,
really. Honey touched one woman’s arm in a gentle, friendly gesture
as she said something, and then they both laughed.

She moved away from that group and
moved on, only to stop to talk to someone else.

Working the crowd. And doing it like a
pro.

Without even saying anything to his
teammates, he started shouldering his way through the crowd of
people toward her. Only by the time he got there, she’d moved on.
He followed her, but his gut clenched when he saw she had now
stopped to talk to her parents.

Great.

He had no idea what they knew or
didn’t know about him and Honey and last weekend, and…fuckit. He
forged on.

He touched the small of Honey’s back
as he approached her from behind. She turned to look at him,
smiling. Her eyes flew wide and the smile vanished.
“Matt.”

“Honey.” He looked at her parents.
“Mr. and Mrs. Holbrook. Good to see you.”

“You too, Matt,” Steve Holbrook said.
“Good road trip.”

“Thanks.”

Steve looked at his daughter. “Did you
watch the games?”

“No.”

“Huh,” Steve said. “You’ve been coming
to every home game, I thought you’d watch the away games on
TV.”

Every home game? Matt knew she’d been
to a couple, but not every game.

She closed her eyes and sighed. “I
don’t really like hockey.”

Steve laughed. Matt lifted his
eyebrows.

“Honey never liked hockey,” Mrs.
Holbrook said. “She was never interested in any sports. In fact,
she was never interested in anything. Except partying.” She
laughed. “Some things never change.”

Matt turned his head and gave her a
long look. “What does that mean?”

She blinked. “You should know. You
were there with her. The pictures were all over.”

One of the guys had helpfully showed
him a tabloid with the picture of him and Honey plastered against
each other that night in Eden. He hadn’t been interested in seeing
the rest of the pictures, but he’d looked, just to make sure that
asswipe photographer really had deleted the crotch shot of Honey.
He hadn’t found it, but yeah, there’d been a few others, the same
ones showing up over and over again on various blogs and websites
along with the comments that made him burn.

“There’s something wrong with going
out to a club with friends?” he asked Mrs. Holbrook.

Her eyes slid sideways to her husband
then back. “Uh, no, of course not.”

“Honey did nothing that night except
be there,” Matt continued. “And she was only there because I wanted
her to, because I wanted to go out with friends.”

He caught the look on Honey’s face,
her mouth open, her eyes round. He still had his hand on her lower
back and he felt the tension in her spine.

“Also,” he continued. “I don’t think
you can say all she’s interested in is partying, when she’s holding
down a challenging job.” He smiled. “Looks like this event is quite
a success. Congratulations, Honey.”

“Th-thanks.”

Mrs. Holbrook’s eyes creased up at the
corners. “Congratulations?”

“She’s the one organizing this
shindig,” Matt said. Christ. Did her mother not even know
that?

“Dulcie did most of the work before
she left,” Honey said. “And since they put it on every year, it was
pretty easy to stick to the plan.”

“I know how much work you’ve put into
it,” he said quietly. Which he did, from their many conversations
about how her day had gone the evenings they’d spent together. He
liked hearing her talk about her work, about the projects they were
working on together and the other things she was involved in.
Apparently her mother didn’t enjoy that as much as he did. “So
yeah, congratulations.

“She’s the one who got some of these
people here,” he continued. “Shia Leboeuf. Wow. Smart to invite
high profile people who are also hockey fans. The prizes are
amazing. And people are spending a shitload of money here, which is
great for the Foundation.”

Mrs. Holbrook didn’t look happy. Too
fucking bad. Honey deserved better. Yeah, it was her mom, her
family, but he wasn’t going to stand by and let them continue to do
a number on her confidence and self-esteem when she was working so
hard to overcome the mistakes she’d made in the past.

He looked at Honey. “They need your
help with something at the silent auction table.”

“They do?”

“I said I’d come find you.” He shot a
smile at her parents. “Excuse us.”

He eased her away from them and nudged
her toward the tables set up to sell tickets. But when they neared
the tables, he veered right and directed her firmly toward one of
the doors to the hall.

“What—?” Honey tried to stop and
looked up at him. “What are you doing? You said they needed
something.”

“I lied.” He hustled her out the door
and into the wide hall, then turned right and led her down the
hall, past bathrooms, and into a small alcove with a table holding
a floral arrangement and a couple of armchairs.

“What are you doing, Matt?”

“We never had that talk we were
supposed to have last weekend.”

“I emailed you—”

“Yeah, I got your bullshit email.” He
sat on a chair and pulled her down onto his lap.

“Matt!”

She felt so good there, in his arms,
except she was tense and uncooperative. “We’re gonna talk,” he
muttered. “But first…this…” And he caught her chin in one hand,
turned her face toward him and kissed her.

She made a shocked little noise, then
another noise that sounded like a half-hearted protest. He opened
her mouth with his and slid his tongue inside, stroking over hers.
His hand slid up her back, holding her close, and the hand on her
jaw gentled, his fingertips sliding along her jaw, up behind her
ear. His thumb put pressure on her chin to open her more to him,
and then the soft noise that came from her throat was helpless
arousal.

Her body softened against his and she
kissed him back, so fucking sweet, so fucking hot, it made his
blood surge through his veins, right to his dick. Which was pressed
against her hip. She made another noise, no doubt because she felt
him getting hard.

One of her hands pushed into his hair,
the other resting on his chest. “Matt,” she whispered.

“Yeah.” He ended the long, deep kisses
with several smaller, shorter kisses, still with lingering tongue
on her bottom lip. They drew a little apart and her eyes fluttered
open, heavy-lidded. “I missed you, Honey. You pissed me off, but I
still missed you.”

“I’m thinking about moving back to San
Francisco.”

He frowned. “What?”

“I think once my three-month term at
the Foundation is up, I’ll be better off starting over somewhere
else.”

“Huh? Why?”

“I know you were mad at me that night,
at Eden. I—”

“Wait, what?” He jerked back. “I
wasn’t mad at you that night.”

“Y-yes you were. You were
furious.”

“I was furious at those fucking
photographers.”

“No.” She shook her head. “You were
mad before that. You were mad because I was partying with Cressa
and those others.”

“Honey. No.” His hand tightened on her
jaw again. “I wasn’t mad at you. I was pissed at myself. Guilty.
Worried. A little.”

“Worried?” Her forehead creased.
“About what?”

“About you. With those
losers.”

She said nothing. Then, “Pissed at
yourself?”

He closed his eyes briefly. “Fuck.
Cressa had to bring up that fucking threesome.”

“Oh yeah.” One corner of her mouth
kicked up into a rueful smile. “I kinda brought it up again,
too.”

“You were trying to piss me off,
weren’t you?”

*

Honey’s heart pounded. Heat swept over
her, and not just from Matt’s scorching kiss. “What do you
mean?”

She was totally stalling. She knew
exactly what he meant. And he was right.

“Fucking don’t play games, Honey,” he
said on a groan. “Just tell me what’s going on with you. It felt
like you were trying to push me away.”