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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
Russ scowled and turned to Emma. "Can we have a private word?"
"Go ahead!" Daphne said, and widened her eyes at Emma with an exaggerated "Ooh, you're in trouble!" expression.
"Yeah, sure," she said, and started to follow him. As she did so, though, a couple of guys emerged from the locker room and called out, "Emma! Watcha doing with a miserable old fart like Buffy, huh?"
She remembered what Daphne had said about doing her best to charm them, and gathered her courage. After a quick glance at Russ-who had frozen in place-she moved toward the men, extending her hand to shake theirs. "He's spry for his decrepit old age, and a young heart counts for a lot, don't you think? I'm Emma Mayson. It's a pleasure to meet some of Russ's teammates."
The men stared at her in shock for a moment, as if surprised that she could tease right back, then dropped their bags and shook her hand, introducing themselves as Frank and Tom.
"This is the first hockey game I've ever seen," Emma said, and decided to lay it on thick. "You all skate so fast!"
"Nah, we're slow," Frank said.
"You should see the guys who are nineteen, twenty," Tom said.
"You looked fast to me. I kept thinking how athletic you were, to move so well under all that equipment."
"Yeah, well…" Frank mumbled, and tilted his head. He almost looked ready to kick the ground, blush and say Aw, shucks.
"Let me introduce you to my friend Daphne Elliot. Daphne?" she called.
Daphne trotted over and Russ followed, looking cross at having lost control of the situation.
By the time she was finished introducing Daphne, more of Russ's teammates had emerged from the locker room and joined the group.
Emma tried to hide her shock. These guys were not guys; they were men.
Russ, at thirty-six, could easily be taken for five years younger than his age. Many of his teammates looked like they were well past forty and ru
They were adults, no matter how boyish they were acting now. She felt a floating sense of unreality, pretending that she fit in, in any way at all. She must appear a child to them.
"Hey, Russ, you played tonight like someone was watching, huh?" said a guy who introduced himself as Craig.
"Yeah, when was the last time you scored a goal?" Tom asked. "I don't even remember."
"Because I play right wing. I'm usually the one setting you up for goals."
"Two goals tonight!" Craig said, ignoring what he'd said to Tom. "You definitely knew someone was watching."
Emma turned wide-eyed to Russ, watching his reaction. There was a tensing in his jaw, and she wondered if it was embarrassment or anger. Had he really been showing off for her?
"You were a demon out there. Carrying the puck, making moves," Frank said, miming a skater on the ice. "You were on. You're never that aggressive, Buffy. Guess your balls knew Emma was in the stands and got woken up for once."
"Shut the hell up!"
Frank looked in pseudo-alarm at Emma and Daphne, his eyebrows high and mouth pursed. " 'Scuse the language!"
"Emma, Daphne, come with us to Harold's," Craig said.
"Harold's?" Emma asked.
"It's half a block away, a bar we all go to after the game to BS about how great we played."
Russ put his hand on her arm. "Emma, you'd hate it. You don't have to go."
"Don't listen to him!" Frank said. "The place is harmless.
We're harmless." He gestured at himself and at the others. "Harmless!"
Emma raised a brow, amused by the joshing of the men and trying to hide the tension between her and Russ. "I doubt you're completely harmless," she said. "But Daphne and I will come if you promise us one thing"