Roman

by Sawyer Bennett

She puts her hands on her hips, glares at me, and says very slowly. "My office. Now."

  Shit, shit, shit.

  While I consider Georgia to be my friend, probably my closest in the world, she is talking to me now like a boss, and I cannot ignore it. With a sigh, I pull the towel over my shoulder, toss it onto the counter, and turn toward her office, knowing that she and Brian are close on my heels.

  When we are inside and the door closes behind us, I turn to face both of them and say, "There is nothing going on."

  "Gray said something to you at the arena that's upset you," Brian says matter-of-factly, his eyes pinned on mine. "And I want to know what it was."

  I swallow hard, trying to push past the lump in my throat.

  To lie or not to lie?

  To start this relationship off right, or to start it with hard feelings and untruths?

  Without letting my gaze waiver from his, I tell him, "Gray advised me that I shouldn't see Roman."

  "And what exactly did she say?" Brian asks neutrally.

  "She said he had a bad reputation. She was concerned for me," I tell him.

  "And do you believe she meant that? Outside of the 'bad reputation' part, which speaks for itself."

  "Yes," I say without hesitation. "I think she was genuine."

  "But that's not all?" he guesses.

  "I was advised of my obligations to the Brannon name, and that if things got messy with Roman, it would reflect on the family."

  "I see," he says slowly, and takes a step toward me. With head tilted, he asks, "And what did you do?"

  My chin tilts up. "I told Roman I couldn't see him anymore."

  "Hmmmm," he says, flicking his eyes over to Georgia, and I notice they share a look. I'm not sure what it's about, but there's no doubt they've had a conversation about this in some detail. When he looks back to me, he calmly clasps his hands behind his back and asks me, "And why in the world would you ever do that?"

  "Huh?" I say dumbly.

  Just...huh?

  "Why would you stop seeing a man just because Gray advised you to do so? I mean, I haven't known you all that long, but it's been long enough to know you're a free thinker and have a good head on your shoulders. So I repeat...Why would you ever stop seeing someone you're clearly interested in just because Gray said so?"

  "What?" is all I can say.

  Brian shakes his head with a measure of disappointment in his eyes. He raises a hand and taps the tip of his forefinger against my forehead. "Think for yourself."

  Then he drops his finger and taps it over the left side of my chest. "And follow your heart."

  "What?" I ask again, my brow furrowing in confusion.

  And then the great Brian Brannon rolls his eyes at me. The CEO and owner of the Cold Fury, worth millions upon millions of dollars, who commands respect throughout the entire sports world, pulls a twelve-year-old's eye roll on me.

  "Lexi," he says. "Stop being obtuse. You understand me just fine."

  And yeah, I do, but I'm just having a hard time believing it. "But...Gray was concerned...and then there's a reputation to uphold...and--"

  "Gray doesn't know everything," Brian interjects. "So stop trying so hard to have something with her that you'll give up a part of yourself to get there."

  And now my eyes narrow at him in suspicion. "You do know that Roman has made quite a bad name for himself, right?"

  "Sadly, I've read all the tabloid reports and I've obviously been privy to his suspensions," Brian says dryly, and I completely ignore Georgia's snort.

  "So, as my father," I ask dubiously, "you don't have a problem with me seeing him?"

  "I have a problem with you not being happy," he counters. "And if Mr. Bad Boy Roman Sykora makes you happy, go for it. I just ask that you refrain from posting half-naked selfies with him online."

  Georgia snorts again, and this time I can't help it...my lips tip upward.

  Then they curve into a full smile as I realize all of a sudden that Brian has just paved the way for me to see Roman. Well, assuming that Roman still has any interest in me, since it's entirely possible that he could be completely repulsed by me after my brush-off.

  "And you don't think Gray will be mad at me?" I ask, my smile faltering slightly as this thought occurs to me.

  Brian shrugs his shoulders. "So what if she is? Sisters fight, you know."

  "But not newfound sisters who have over two decades of lost time to make up for," I say tartly.

  My dad laughs, throwing his head back, and when his eyes return to me they're sparkling with amusement. "Now that I'll give you, but honestly, Lexi, I'm sure Gray was just giving advice, and if you choose not to follow it, she's going to be fine. She might still be concerned, but trust me when I say she wants you to be happy too."

  "Do you really think so?" I ask gruffly, my throat once again clogging with emotion.

  "I know so," Brian says firmly, then his hands come to my shoulders. "Gray may be a high-powered woman who can be slightly intimidating on the best of days, but at her core, she has a heart as big as the ocean. Just trust me on this, okay?"

  "Okay," I say as I huff out a relieved breath followed by a smile. "Can we hug it out now? Then I'm going to call Roman."

  Brian laughs again and wraps me in an embrace. Standing on my tiptoes to accept it, I see Georgia watching us with her hand over her mouth, head tilted, her eyes shining with emotion. She's as moved by this father-daughter moment as I am.

  Which brings to mind...

  I pull away from Brian and look to him, then to Georgia, and back to him. "You two clearly had talked about me before you came here. What's up with that?"

  "Oh, that," Georgia says as she walks over and loops her arm through Brian's. "We had our first date today, and I think it was marvelous. So good, in fact, I feel comfortable eating tabbouleh on our next date."

  Wait! What?

  Before I can even process that, Georgia pats Brian's arm and turns to look up at him. "And when might that next date occur?"

  Brian looks down at Georgia and grins at her. "I'm thinking dinner...tonight. You game?"

  "Oh baby," she says with a purr. "You have no idea."

  And...this just got weird. "O-k-a-a-a-y," I say slowly as I back away from the weirdness toward the door. "I'm just going to leave you two alone to kiss it out or something."

  "I don't kiss on the first date," Georgia says primly as I open the door with a backward reach of my hand. Then her eyes practically glow with wickedness as she winks at me. "But I'm totally open to at least second base thereafter."

  "Ugh," I say dramatically as I clap my hands over my ears. "Don't ever say that stuff in front of me again."

  Brian's lips press into an amused smile as he watches me walk backward out of the office, my hands still secure against my ears to muffle any sound. And when I'm clear and can shoot a hand out to pull the door closed behind me, I watch as Brian turns to Georgia and, sadly, I hear him say, "Second base, huh?"

  I pull the door shut fast and it slams loudly, cutting out any further naughty flirting between my dad and Georgia. But then I put them out of my mind as I dig my phone out of my pocket and pull up Roman's number.

  My heart beats madly as the phone rings, but I'm disappointed to get his voicemail. It's simple and adorable in his light Czech accent. "Sykora. Talk to me." Then a long pause. "Or don't. I don't care which, but I suspect you do."

  I smile as I wait for the tone, then leave a somewhat breathless if not confusing message. "Um...hey...it's Lexi, but you probably know that because of caller ID and all that, but anyway...I just had the most amazing conversation with Brian and he may have pointed out I was a fool to stop seeing you, which is weird, right? But anyway, I want to know if you're still interested in a goofy, ukulele-playing girl who works at a coffee shop. Or have I so thoroughly wounded your ego that you're not willing to give me a second chance. If it's the first, call me back. If it's the second, throw the bag I left at your house onto the front lawn and text me when it's rea
dy. I'll come by and pick it up. Okay, that's it. I really hope it's the first. Call me and I'll play the ukulele just for you."

  I grin as I disconnect the call. I don't know Roman well, but I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that he'll be charmed by that message and I'll be hearing from him sooner rather than later.

  Chapter 15

  Roman

  I open my front door before Lexi's foot hits the bottom step of my porch, as I'd been watching for her car to pull into my driveway. She looks up at me with her right hand holding her ukulele by its neck.

  "I'm prepared to serenade you if necessary," she quips with a smile as she holds it up for me to see.

  "Now why would that be necessary?" I ask her as I step out onto the porch and cross my arms over my chest.

  "Well, because the text you sent me in response to my voicemail was very cryptic." She steps up fully onto the bottom step and waits for my move.

  And damn, she looks cute as hell in black leggings, black ankle boots with shaggy fake fur around the edges, and an oversized dark purple sweater that hangs off one shoulder.

  It's cold as hell outside, so I ask as I frown down at her, "Where's your coat?"

  "Figured I didn't need it," she replies as she stares at me. "I'd either jump out of my car and grab my bag from your front lawn, or I'd be warm inside your house."

  "Hmmmm," I say in contemplation.

  "And yet here I am, freezing my ass off on your front porch," she points out sweetly.

  "You're not quite on the porch yet," I counter. "But how about getting that ass up here and rectifying it."

  "So I'm invited in?" she asks coyly.

  "You're invited to the top of my porch," I say sternly, although my lips are curving to indicate I find her adorable.

  "Well, in that case," she exclaims with excitement as she bounds up the three steps, coming to a hopping stop right in front of me. "Here I am."

  Shaking my head, I offer an amused smile and murmur, "I don't know whether to kiss you or spank you."

  Her eyes flash hot and her quick reaction to my suggestion of a spanking causes my body to tighten all over. I almost groan out loud when she cocks her head and asks, "Is spanking a serious option?"

  I mutter a curse word in Czech under my breath, which she finds hilarious as evidenced by her giggle. Curling my hand around the back of her neck, I merely turn and push her toward my open door, releasing my hold on her as she steps inside.

  She turns to face me in my foyer, her ukulele in one hand and a soft expression on her face. "I'm really sorry, Roman. That I reacted so hastily to Gray's advice to stay away from you."

  And fuck if that doesn't get me somewhere right in the center of my chest. I've had reason for people to apologize to me in the past for whatever reason, but I've never had those words leveled at me with such sincerity before.

  "What did Brian say that made you come to your senses?" I ask, because her voicemail said he was the reason she was reaching out to me. I had been at practice and had missed her call, but I was grinning from ear to ear in the locker room when I'd listened to it. I didn't call her back, but sent her--as she noted--a cryptic text that simply said, Come by around 6 P.M. and you'll find out.

  Some might think that was mean, not letting Lexi off the hook easily, but I'm confident she took that text exactly as I meant it. A joking gesture to let her know I wasn't mad at her. If I was, I would have told her her bag was on the front lawn. And Lexi clearly took it the way I knew she would, as she showed up at my door with her ukulele, knowing I'd be charmed by her and it.

  Lexi chuckles and answers my question. "Well, I had no clue Brian was so wise, and there were lots of words exchanged, but he basically reminded me to think for myself and to follow my heart."

  "Wise words indeed," I observe.

  "So am I forgiven?" she asks solemnly.

  "There was nothing to forgive," I tell her truthfully and without the generalized teasing that's been going on since she got here.

  "Well damn," she says morosely, and with sad eyes continues, "If there's nothing to forgive, then that means I technically did nothing wrong, which then translates into no spankings, right?"

  Another muttered Czech curse as I shake my head at her. "You're so bad."

  "Well, Gray says you are too, but here I am," she quips.

  Laughing, I again put my hand around the back of her neck and guide her toward the living room and then the kitchen. "Before we get to spankings--and I'm sure there are some in our future--I'm starving and I've got dinner ready. Let's eat."

  "Oh my God," Lexi says on a deep inhale as we enter the kitchen. She pulls away from my hand, sets her ukulele on the small dining table, and walks zombielike toward the food I have laid out on the island counter. "What in the holy heaven is this delicious-looking stuff?"

  Grinning, I step up to the counter and point to the items on the platter. "This is veprova, which you Americans fondly call roasted pork. This is knedliky, which are bread dumplings, and here is zeli, which is your basic sauerkraut."

  "You cooked all this?" she asks as she looks at me in amazement.

  Nodding, I tell her, "I wanted to share a traditional Czech meal with you, and this happens to be my favorite."

  "You can actually cook?" she asks with even more amazement.

  "In my house you learned to cook or you didn't eat," I tell her, and then instantly regret it the minute her eyes turn sorrowful, so I quickly add, "All I mean is that my parents worked so hard and were always so busy, and along with my hockey schedule, there weren't a lot of family meals."

  "Oh," she says softly as her eyes go back to the platter of food. "But still...this is incredible."

  "So you're impressed?"

  "You're so getting laid," she says dramatically. "But probably not tonight. Well, I'm not sure about that. I should taste the food first before I commit."

  And I laugh again. A deep belly laugh, because she's funny and cute, she pulls something from me I didn't know existed, and being around her makes me feel fucking good. There's no doubt I'm going to get laid at some point, and I honestly don't give a shit if it's tonight or in the foreseeable future.

  --

  "Favorite movie?" Lexi asks as she sits on the opposite end of the couch from me, casually strumming her ukulele. Not really playing a song, but just different chords as we talk.

  "Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom," I say with no hesitation.

  "Never saw it," she responds. Another casual strum, her fingers very light on the strings.

  I shift on the couch, scooting my body down a bit more. We're on opposite ends, facing each other. Lexi ditched her boots and she's sitting cross-legged with her back against the armrest. I'm laying sprawled on my back, also having removed my shoes. My body is longer than the couch, so my legs are slightly bent, with my feet resting on the cushion at the sides of her hips.

  "Not surprised," I say lazily. "I think it was made before you were born."

  "If it's so old, how come you've seen it?" She's stopped strumming and is watching me with her head tilted to the side.

  I shrug. "I like action movies. Even the older ones."

  "I like chick flicks," she says with a grin. "What's your take on them?"

  "That you should never ask me to watch one with you," I tell her adamantly.

  I'm thinking there are a lot of ways I'd be happy to spend my time with Lexi, but I do have my limits.

  Lexi snorts at my response. "I'll give you a pass."

  We've been sitting here lobbing questions at each other since we finished dinner over an hour ago, and in that time I've learned some very interesting things. For instance, she was bitten by a copperhead snake when she was fifteen while hiking in the woods with friends, and to get over her fear after that, she took a snake-handling course through a local wildlife agency. Though it was no surprise to me, I learned she's a daredevil and a bit of an adrenaline junkie, bungee jumping being her favorite rush. She's highly allergic to bees and carries an E
piPen in her purse. She's also slightly allergic to shellfish, but that doesn't stop her from eating it. Lexi's favorite food is spaghetti, she hates carrots, and is a terrible baker, but she continually tries with repetitive failure.

  Lexi likes to read psychological thrillers, has a soft spot for dogs, admitted the fact I work with golden retriever rescue was a major point in my favor, and once got arrested for underage drinking when she was seventeen. She snores lightly when she sleeps, hates taking baths, preferring a shower instead, and almost choked to death once when she was dared to try to swallow a tablespoon of cinnamon.

  I've learned a ton of other inane stuff about her, but some important stuff as well. Her favorite flower is a yellow rose, her birthday is week after next--she'll be twenty-seven--and she's never had a relationship last longer than six months.

  "Best vacation you've ever had?" I ask her, since it's my turn to question.

  "That's easy," she says with a fond smile. "When I was eleven, my mom took me to Disney World. She had saved up for like three years to be able to do it, because as you know, teachers don't make all that much money, but it was amazing. She rode all the rides with me, and I had so much junk food I almost got sick. It was amazing and my lesson from it was if I have kids one day, I'm going to start saving up money a lot sooner so I can take them when they're a little younger."

  She speaks with such determination there's no doubt that it's a goal she's had set in her mind for a very long time. While the passion with which she talks about that vacation and her desire to pass that on to her own kids one day is touching, it's also a bit of a mystery to me. Vacation for me was my parents shipping me off to my grandmother's house for long weekends when I was growing up. Trying to imagine my mother and father at Disney World is quite ludicrous, actually. It wasn't until I was an adult and playing professional hockey that I started to appreciate the time off in the summers and made efforts to travel for pleasure and play, but never once did I feel like I was missing anything growing up. I guess when you don't have something or know of something, it's hard to miss it.

  Lexi starts picking out a tune on her instrument and I recognize it immediately: "Let It Be," by the Beatles.

  She starts to sing the song that most everyone in the world knows, using a combination of strumming and picking at the strings, alternating back and forth fluidly. I watch her carefully, love how she closes her eyes sometimes when she's particularly feeling a lyric or melody, and when she opens them back up, they're on me and nowhere else. That voice of hers...smoky, husky, so fucking sexy. She has no hesitation holding my gaze as she performs, always doing so with a sweet smile, and I admire that there's not a moment of shyness or doubt in herself that causes her gaze to drop.