So fucking weird, and so fucking disappointing for me if that’s true.

But is it true? Lexi was just flirting with me this morning in the locker room, and it’s something I need to know for sure.

My thoughts are jolted as I realize Lexi is walking toward me with one hand holding her ukulele by the neck, sometimes stopping at tables to exchange a few words with the patrons, probably giving her praise for her performance. She walks away from the table that sits right next to my chair and doesn’t even see me as she starts to pass by.

“Lexi,” I call out, and she spins around on me, her face once again lighting up with welcome as she recognizes my voice before she even sees me.

“Roman,” she exclaims as she steps back toward me, and I’m oddly invigorated by the happiness I hear in her voice. “What are you doing here?”

I stand up from the chair and my eyes shoot down to the instrument in her hand. “Finding out that you have a hidden talent, apparently.”

She grins even as her cheeks turn pink. She holds up the ukulele and shrugs. “It’s a weird talent, for sure.”

“It’s a talent,” I say pointedly. “And your singing and playing were beautiful.”

“Awww,” she says sweetly. “Thanks. But seriously, what are you doing here?”

“I struck out with you due to bad timing,” I tell her as I take a step toward her. “Thought I’d try to get your phone number one last time before I give up.”

“You don’t strike me as a man that ever gives up,” she says, and then points back down to the seat I’d just vacated. “I’ve got a bit of time, though, before I start if you want to talk.”

“Start what?” I ask.

“I’m working until closing at 10 P.M.,” she says, and moves to take the chair next to the one I’d been sitting on, resting her ukulele against the side. She pats her hand on the cushion beside her and nods toward it. “So sit down, take a load off, and I might even give you my number.”

I plop back down into the chair, angle my body toward her while my fingers fidget with the paper on the water bottle in my hands. No sense in beating around the bush. “So, I need to throw this out there…I saw Brian Brannon in here listening to you.”

Another rush of pink to her cheeks accompanied by an alarmed look. “Oh, that…”

“Yeah, that,” I mimic in a teasing tone so I keep this light as it should be. “Are you dating him? Because while I’m all for casual dating with no commitment, I totally cannot get on board with sharing you with my boss.”

Lexi’s eyes open wide in astonishment and she exclaims, “God no! Are you kidding me?”

“You two look awful close,” I point out. “And I could tell this morning in the locker room that things weren’t cozy between you and Gray. Before I try to get that number from you, I need to know if I’m wasting my time.”

“You’re not wasting your time with me,” she says hurriedly, and then leans toward me, and with a lower voice continues, “I can’t tell you the nature of my relationship with Brian Brannon, at least not yet, but you can absolutely believe it’s not romantic.”

“What?” I ask in a joking manner. “Are you like his secret love child or something?”

The minute Lexi gasps, I realize I’ve hit the nail on the head, and then it’s confirmed by the guilt I see on her face.

Holy shit.

I lean in closer to her and whisper, “You’re his secret love child?”

“No,” she practically hisses at me. “I mean, yes…I’m his daughter, but you cannot tell anyone. He and Gray aren’t ready to announce it, but I’m not a secret love child. Well, actually, it was a secret my mom kept from me and I just found out several months ago, but I wasn’t created out of love. At least not on his part, I don’t think…”

Her words trail off, leaving a sad vibe behind as she stares at her hands. I reach out, put my hand under her chin, and lift it up. “I won’t tell anyone, Lexi. Your secret is safe with me.”

She lets out an exhale of relief, and I’m surprised when her own hand comes up and she pushes her fingers through mine. She pulls my hand down into her lap and lays her other hand on top. “I’m sorry. This is just really weird, and awkward, and I like the time we’ve spent talking, as little as it’s been. I hate to lay this on you, and as you can see, my life is a little tumultuous right now. Maybe you should walk—or run—in the opposite direction.”

“Now why would I do that?” I ask her seriously. “Do you know how long I’ve been searching for a woman who can play the ukulele?”

My goal is achieved as she laughs, and it’s warm, rich, and husky, which warms my blood and again speaks to my dick for some reason. “You’re crazy,” she says softly.

“Totally,” I agree with her. “But seriously…what’s the deal? How did you find out he was your father and why didn’t you know before?”

Lexi glances at her watch, apparently decides she has time, and says, “My mom never told me Brian was my father. They broke up before she found out she was pregnant. I didn’t find out until she was sick with cancer and dying, about a year ago.”

I feel a vague sadness for her losing her mom, and a slight happiness for her finding her dad. But those feelings are dulled, as it’s hard to have true empathy for her situation when I don’t understand the significance of family. I was never close to my parents back in Prague, and I left home at the age of thirteen to play hockey abroad. I’ve only seen my parents a handful of times since, and we hardly talk. I’ve been on my own for so long it’s a bit difficult for me to understand the concept of familial bonds. Add in the fact that in professional hockey you can get traded and uprooted at any given time, it’s always been a bit hard for me to form deep bonds with people in my life.

Still, learning this little bit of her history, I find myself even more drawn to her. She’s still fabulously mischievous, funny as hell, and sexy as all get out. Her backstory makes her even more interesting, and her singing made her a million times more attractive to me. Not quite sure how I feel about her being the daughter of Brian Brannon, which makes her hockey royalty, but I know I absolutely want to take her out, and I absolutely want to get in her pants. I assume, however, that with a woman like Lexi, there’s a certain order to things.