Breakaway (11 page)

“Oh.” She nibbled her bottom lip. “That’s nice of you, but I
can’t let you do that. And that’s not the only reason. I can’t just take off
like that.”

“Why not?” He lifted his chin. “Why can’t you go away for a
weekend?”

“Because…because…I just don’t do things like that.”

“I thought you wanted to have fun? Break loose. Living on
your own.”

She grimaced. “As you can see, I’m not on my own right now.”

“Your sister is an adult.”

Her brow furrowed and the lip-nibble continued. “I know. But
I should be here for her. And.going on a trip…that’s big. I…hardly know you.”

“It’s just fun, Remi. Right?”

“Yes.” Regret shadowed her eyes. “But I can’t. You need to
go and focus on your game, anyway. It’s probably better if I don’t come.”

He sighed. She was probably right. He didn’t know why he’d
suggested it. Nobody brought girls on a road trip. It was kinda crazy and he’d
be busy practicing, then playing. Boston was an in and out game, not really a
weekend.

“Yeah. You’re right.” He tipped his beer and finished it. “I
guess I should go.” He set his empty bottle on the coffee table and leaned
forward for a kiss. He’d wanted to touch her since he walked in the door, slide
his hands into that silky hair, feel her peachy-soft skin, get his hands under
that black turtleneck sweater, find out if she was wearing black lace underwear
again.

Christ, it seemed like ages since they’d slept together. He’d
been thinking about her for the last few weeks nonstop. When he’d seen her at
the school that first day, standing there all cute and little and big eyes full
of apprehension, he’d been happily surprised. When he’d found out she was a
teacher, that had just about put an end to the strange attraction he felt for
her. But his impulsive invitation out for dinner hadn’t turned out so bad. She
hadn’t made him feel stupid or lacking.

Even tonight. Although she’d been dismayed by the rough game
and his little wound, she’d listened to him talk about the game and hadn’t made
him feel stupid. She’d made him feel good.

He needed more of that. He needed to be with her. Bad. And
now her sister was down the goddamn hall.

Frustration rose in him as his mouth covered hers and he
fought to restrain the lust that made him want to toss her down on the couch
cushions and fuck her brains out.

She tasted sweet and warm, her small tongue meeting and
playing with his in a long, drugging kiss that had his head spinning even more
than the painkillers they’d given him earlier. He put a hand on her cheek, so
tiny and soft, and held her face while they kissed and kissed again.

“Remi. Please. Come to Boston.”

“I can’t.”

He wanted to growl. A small noise did come from deep in his
throat. He coughed and drew back.

“I guess I’ll see you Wednesday, then. At school.”

She nodded, mouth full and soft, eyes so turquoise blue and
clear he wanted to fall into them and drown in them.

“We’ll go out for dinner after.”

She tipped her head to one side and sent him a slow, so sexy
smile. “Okay. Dinner, I can do.”

“It is a school night.”

She laughed. “Yes, it is.”

“And I might end up dragging you back to my place after.”

Her eyes darkened to teal blue and she lowered her chin. “Promise?”

His dick hardened. He could have groaned. “Hell, Remi.” He
glanced through the French doors, and she caught his look and laid her palm on
his cheek.

“I know,” she whispered. “Wednesday.”

He stood and let her get his coat, and then he picked her up
and kissed her again at the door, lifting her feet right off the floor so he
could fit her to his body. She wound her arms around his neck and kissed him
back and his dick surged and hardened even more. “Ah, Remi,” he groaned against
her mouth.

A throat clearing had him lifting his head to see Jasmine
standing there, staring at them open-mouthed. He let Remi slide down his body
to the floor and grinned. “Just leaving,” he told Jasmine. “Night, Remi.” He
brushed one last kiss across her mouth before leaving.

Outside, he left his coat undone, letting it flap open as he
strode toward his Jeep. The chilly March night air would hopefully cool down
his overheated body. Jesus. A warm feeling of well-being simmered inside him
along with frustration. He’d wanted to see her and he had. They’d talked and
somehow she’d made him feel less pissed off at himself, somehow she’d made him
feel like it was so easy, they’d win their next three games and be on top of
the world. He was on top of the world right now as he walked to his Jeep, the
nearby streetlight reflecting on chrome and sparkling off the glass, the
neighborhood quiet and dark and peaceful. He took a deep breath of cool night
air and let it out. She made him feel on top of the world—but he wished he were
on top of Remi.

Chapter Seven

All through dinner Wednesday evening, all Remi could think
about was going back to his place and having hot sex with him.

She clenched her thighs together as she ate, drank three
glasses of wine to wet her dry mouth and pushed her food around on her
plate—fabulous shrimp, but who cared—trying to keep her mind off Jason’s body.
Naked. Over her. Under her. Inside her. Her womb clenched hard at that thought
and she trembled.

They emerged from the restaurant on Michigan Avenue, a
trendy upscale place that apparently wasn’t far from Jason’s apartment. Jason
put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in close, then bent to kiss her
cheek. His mouth felt warm in the cool night.

Then a blinding flash exploded in front of Remi’s eyes. She
made a small sound and put a hand up. “What was that?”

“Shit.”

“Hey, Jase!” a voice called. Remi couldn’t even see who was
talking to him, blinking at the spots in front of her eyes. “Is this your new
girlfriend?”

She shook her head and looked up at Jason. He didn’t answer,
just smiled grimly and took her arm, hustling her up the sidewalk.

“What’s her name?” the voice called from behind them.

“Who is that?” she huffed.

“Reporters.”

“Huh?”

“News reporters. Sorry about that, Remi. I had no idea they
were out there.”

“Uh…” She sucked in oxygen as she practically ran to keep up
with his long-legged stride. “What did they want?”

“Pictures. A story.”

“About you?”

“Yeah.” He laughed and slowed his stride. “I know it’s
crazy, but sometimes they follow me around.”

Holy crap. She hung on to his arm as they walked around the
corner and then into the entrance of the high-rise that housed his apartment.

“Stop.”

In the elegant lobby, all marble and glass and brass, she
planted her feet in her high-heeled boots and didn’t move.

“What’s wrong?”

She threw out a hand. “This. This is what’s wrong. Look at
this place. There are reporters following you around. Paparazzi, for god’s
sake.”

“Uh…”

With his lips parted, thick brows drawn down and that
butterfly bandage still on his forehead, he looked adorably confused.

“This is just one more reason why I should not be doing
this.”

“What is? Why? What are you talking about?”

“Your life. It’s…crazy. It’s…I don’t even know. This is just
so not me, Jason.”

He put his hands on her shoulders, heavy and warm even
through her coat. “Remi. It’s not that big a deal. I just rent this apartment.
It’s close to the arena.”

“Phhhhht.” She couldn’t even guess how much an apartment
like this cost, but it was probably close to her whole month’s paycheck.

“And the reporters…well…you get used to it. It’s kinda cool.
They don’t stalk me like I’m Britney Spears or anything. Just once in a while.”

She shook her head. Once in a while! She couldn’t even
imagine that.

“Come on, Remi. Lighten up. It’s fun. Right?”

The curve of his lips, the appeal in his dark chocolate
eyes, made her soften inside.

“Fun.”

“Yeah.” He stroked her cheek. “We’re just having fun. So
some reporters want to take our picture? Why not? You’re gorgeous.”

“No, I’m not.” Not like a model. Those must have been some
good shots when he’d been dating Brianne. She pictured the two of them stopping
and posing for photographers. She sighed. That was so not her. Her stomach
quivered inside. Oh hell.

“You are.” He touched her hair. “It’s not a big deal,
sweetheart. We just ignore them.”

“I just feel…like I’m way out of my depth here.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re so short.” He grinned and swung her up
in his arms. She squealed and grabbed for him. “Even in those hawt do-me boots
with killer heels.”

He carried her across the floor to the elevators.

“Put me down!” she hissed, her words and Jason’s footsteps
echoing in the lobby. “Seriously, Jason!”

His smile faded when he saw the look on her face and he
halted and let her slide down his body until her feet touched the floor.

“I can’t do this,” she said, pushing away from him. She took
a couple of steps back, clutched her purse to her chest. “Paparazzi, for god’s
sake.” She shook her head, her chest tight with disappointment. This was
insane. She could not go around having photographers stalking her and taking
her picture. She peeked up at Jason through her eyelashes, her eyes prickling a
little. “Could you take me home?”

He stood there gazing at her. “I don’t want to.” He shoved a
hand into his hair.

And she didn’t want to go. They’d been having so much fun
and she’d been all warm and tingly and looking forward to…oh, hell. She turned
away from the look in his eyes. This was so not her world. Her lips wanted to
pout with regret and she dragged in a long shaky breath. She waited.

Finally, with a noise of frustration, he stabbed the button
of the elevator. “Fine,” he muttered. “I’ll drive you home.” With hunched
shoulders, he stood there, waiting for the elevator car to arrive. Then they
got in, the doors slid closed and dense silence surrounded them. Her eyes
burning even more, her throat tight, Remi looked down at the pointy toes of her
boots and licked her lips.

“I’m sorry,” she choked out when the doors opened onto the
parking garage.

He gave a jerky nod and strode toward his vehicle, his long
legs leaving her behind. She hurried after him, her high-heeled boots clicking
on the concrete floor.

“So,” he said after they’d climbed in and he’d started the
vehicle. He clenched the steering wheel. “What does this mean?”

“I…I don’t know.”

“‘Cause I can’t control the media,” he said, staring
straight ahead. “We can try to avoid them, but they’re always going to be there.”

“I know.”

“They’re really not that bad, Remi. If we hadn’t won the
Stanley Cup two years ago, most people in this city wouldn’t even know who I
am.”

She nodded and, with a sigh, he put the Jeep in gear and
backed out of the parking spot. He drove through the cavernous concrete parking
structure, used a card to exit and pulled out onto the street.

She didn’t know what to say. Her stomach felt all tight and
achy. The drive to her place was silent.

He walked her to her door and paused. “I’m gone for the next
five days,” he said gruffly. “Road trip.”

She nodded.

“I’ll call you when I’m back.”

She watched him walk back to his Jeep through a blur of
tears.

* * * * *

“Is this you?”

Jennifer walked into Remi’s classroom during lunch period
the next day, holding the newspaper.

Remi looked up from her sandwich and the spelling tests she
was marking. “Is what me?”

“This.” Jennifer held out the newspaper and showed Remi the
photograph.

Remi’s heart lurched. “Oh. My. God.”

The photograph was of her and Jason leaving the restaurant, Jason’s
arm slung around her shoulders pulling her in for a hug, both of them smiling
at each other. The caption read “Is one of Chicago’s most eligible bachelors
off the market already?”

Remi stared at the photo, her breath stuck in her throat,
the sandwich in her hand forgotten.

“Are you dating Jason Heller?” Jennifer asked.

“Um…” Jennifer was her boss. Was this going to cause a
problem?

“Not really. We’ve gone out a couple of times.” Was she
supposed to tell Jennifer they were just having fun? Hot, sexy, no
strings-attached fun?

“Well.” Jennifer grinned. “It’s a nice picture.”

Remi grimaced. Actually, it was a good picture. She looked
kind of pretty, cheeks flushed, smiling at Jason, and of course Jason always
looked good. Except the looks on their faces had an air of…intimacy. Like they
were in love or something.

Ha. In lust was more like it.

She had to read the article, which to her dismay talked a
lot about Jason and Brianne and how’d they only recently broke up—how
recently?—and how they’d been such a stunning, elite Chicago couple, rich,
beautiful, talented. Although what kind of talent did it take to be a model?
Then Remi frowned at her own snarky thoughts.

She buried her face in her hands. Once again, this was just
another sign that she was in a world she had no business being in. She might as
well have landed on another planet and started hanging out with space aliens
for all the familiarity she had with paparazzi, publicity, money and models.

Only every other teacher on staff at Abraham Lincoln Middle
School saw the newspaper that day and remarked on the photograph to Remi. By
the end of the day she was shaking her head. What the hell had she’d gotten
herself into by hooking up with a famous superstar hockey player?

Then came the phone calls from not only Jasmine, who’d moved
back in with Ethan, demanding to know what on earth Remi was doing with one of
Chicago’s most eligible bachelors, but from Kyle, good lord, away at Illinois
State, who’d somehow come across the photo on the internet.