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about your style and how you fuck around like someone’s after your dick and if you’re not shoving it in someone it might get forcefully removed from you. I didn’t want any part of it.”
    “You mean any more part of it,” he muttered wryly, receiving a snort from Sable in response.
    “Right.”
    “Fair enough,” he said with a sigh and a gulp of the hot chocolate, which was surprisingly good.
    Something about the Shifter Grove local cuisine was hitting all the right notes with Sable, and that was saying something for a San Diego foodie. She clunked the heels of her snowy boots against the car with a low thud, twiddling the cardboard cup in her hands.
    The hell are we doing here?
    “I was surprised you added me on SassyDate finally,” Heath said. “What made you change your mind?”
    “Oh, I figured with the loss under your belt, it was the least I could do,” she said with a chuckle. “Wouldn’t want you to get too depressed now, right?”
    “I didn’t know the Predators’ supply team cared so much.”
    “Only for the special cases.”
    “So you’re calling me special?”
    “You’re special all right,” she said with a sigh, shaking her head. “So why’d you get in touch with me to begin with?”
    The words felt heavy as hell, coming from her mouth. It was a thought that had kept plaguing her for days and days now—consuming her attention and her time—trying to figure out what the hell Heath was plotting by trying to get close to her. Was it just to piss off her brothers? To mock her in some way? To publicly humiliate her?
    After Mackey, none of those options sounded too far-fetched. There was something to be said on the topic of remaining vigilant with these hockey bastards.
    “I had fun with you,” Heath replied, sounding as earnest as she’d ever heard him. “I thought we could maybe have a repeat. Not of the broom closet fucking,” he hastened to add, “But just… you know. Getting to know one another. I’d like that.”
    “Why?” she asked, deadpan as usual.
    “Why?” Heath echoed as if needing to confirm that she’d really asked something that dumb. “Because you called me out on my shit and wouldn’t let me run my mouth. That’s rare in my line of work, though I guess you would know.”
    She could see the way he shrugged his shoulders, and it was as if someone had disturbed a mountain next to her and it had suddenly shifted a little. He was no small man and even though the air was cold, she felt his presence keenly, his scent wafting into her nostrils and the heat of his body seeming to warm hers as well. It was an odd feeling, all in all, being so incredibly aware of someone like that.
    Everything he did seemed to register immediately with Sable. Her mouth was dry trying to talk to him, so she kept sipping on the hot chocolate and not really feeling the taste anymore. Maybe it had burned her tongue. She had no way of being sure because her thoughts were swimming around and focusing on any one emotion seemed impossibly hard.
    “I guess I would,” she agreed, feeling curiously tongue-tied.
    Sable really wasn’t the kind of girl to run out of things to say, even at the weirdest of times. And definitely not in a situation where she was faced with some cocky hockey prick who thought he could have any woman he wanted just with a wink and a smile! Or at least that had been her take on the situation when she’d decided to take him up on the offer to sit and chat for a moment. She’d been meaning to tell him to leave her alone, and go bother someone else.
    Yet now, sitting next to him, she felt more like a teenager nervous about whether he liked her too than anything else. And he wasn’t anything near his impossibly self-admiring self, behaving in a rather subdued fashion just as she had.
    “It’s getting late. I should probably let you go. I have practice tomorrow and I imagine Coach is going to tear all of us a new one.”
    “You’re welcome for that one,” Sable said