The Pucking Girl Next Door (Power Play Off The Ice: Snowed in for the Hoildays)

8. Annabelle

Chapter 8

Annabelle

" H ey, after the dishes, would you like to watch a movie?" Smith asks me as he drops off another dish from dinner into the sink.

"Sure. That sounds great," I say trying to sound as non-chalant as possible, even though I'm freaking out on the inside. Not sure if I pull it off because my inner teen is screaming. Ever since I saw him this morning, the crush that I thought was no longer seems to have come back in full force. Feeling like that young girl is not something I wanted to feel again. The idea of him rejecting me makes my heart drop, I'm not sure I'd be able to recover. I try and focus on the dishes in front of me, but it's hard because my inner teenager is screaming at me.

I can't believe we're about to watch a movie with Smith Cabot.

"Awesome. What movies are you into now a days?" he shouts back to me as he walks toward the living room.

"I like anything but scary," I yell back, being mindful not to look over at him.

"Oh yeah, now I remember how much of a chicken you were growing up," he chuckles as he looks back over his shoulder at me, and then gives me a wink.

"Hey, it's yours and Steven's fault I'm a scaredy cat, really. You guys would gang up on me and try to scare me on purpose."

"Of course we did. We were young boys. What else would we have done?" he says grinning at me and it's freaking sexy as all get out.

Not wanting him to know how much he affects me, I continue to wash the dishes answering him, while keeping my voice as flat as possible. "Oh, I don't know…maybe torment someone else?" I see him open his mouth as if he was about to say something else, but my phone prevents us from talking further when it rings.

"Do you mind checking to see who that is?" I ask as I lean my head toward where my phone is sitting on the counter.

"Sure," he says as he walks over to my phone. His brows scrunch when he looks down at the caller ID. "It's someone named Frannie."

I let out an exasperated breath as I turn the water off and dry my hands. Once they're dry, I go to answer my phone, turning my back on Smith to get some privacy, because I can't imagine that this is going to be good.

"Hello?"

"Annabelle. You were supposed to finish that report I sent you last night before you left."

No hello, or are you on vacation? Nothing. I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to keep my cool, because this woman drives me nuts. Taking a deep breath, I calmly state, "I did. It's on your desk and in your inbox."

"Well, I'm looking at my inbox, and it's not there."

"Give me a minute, I'll resend it."

"You're not on vacation?" And it sounds like she's a little hopeful at that idea, leaving me feeling uncertain. "Not yet. I wasn't able to leave before the storm, but I'm go—."

"Good, I'll see you on Monday. And Annabelle, don't forget to send me that report," she interrupts me and then hangs up before I can tell her I am still trying to go on vacation. I guess I'm not going to the Bahamas.

I squeeze my phone in my hand as I grit my teeth together trying to release the anger that I feel every time I talk to that infuriating woman. How did she even get to the level that she's at?

Plastering on a smile, I spin back toward the kitchen sink, hoping that Smith didn't pay attention to any of that conversation, but my heart melts when I see him washing dishes, and not just his own dinner dish but the ones I cooked in too. And even though I shouldn't be easily swayed by dishes, it's more about the gesture of helping me.

Not wanting him to find me getting choked up over dishes, I decide to announce my presence.

"If you don't mind, I'm going to run upstairs to the office and email my boss a report."

"No problem. I'll just finish up the dishes and then we can watch a movie when you're done."

"Awesome." I say as I scurry away from the man who seems to be set on setting me on fire.

The whole time I'm walking toward the office, I try to keep my thoughts on work and not on the man downstairs. The one who I've fallen back into the same old crush with, though he doesn't seem to be affected by me. I quickly turn on the computer and while I wait for it to boot up, my mind drifts to the possibility of what it could be like if Smith was attracted to me. Would he hold my hand while we watched a movie? Or would he just go in for the kill and hold me the entire night as he caressed my skin?

He seems like the kind of guy that would just dive in and take what he wants, the perfect alpha man, like the ones that I read about in my fictional books. He would definitely take care of whoever he chooses to be his partner in crime. And it's clear that I'm not that person. I mean I know it's been years since we've seen each other, but he would've at least flirted with me, right?

Sitting down at my parent's computer, I start shaking my body from the excess energy I'm feeling. Time to focus on the reality of my life, working for this company, hoping it's a steppingstone to something better, and keeping this witch off my back. I go back to my sent folder and can't help but roll my eyes when I see that I did in fact, send it to her. Resending the document, I take screenshots of both emails, that way, if she tries to throw me under the bus at work, I can prove that I did my job, because she's fucking useless.

Before going downstairs, I check the airline websites again to see if there are any flights in the near future, but to my dismay, the airport hasn't even re-opened yet. Feeling out of control, I try to ground myself by leaning my head against the desk. The coolness of the desk helps me, but I still can't help but feel like my life has just turned into a giant mess. A tear escapes my eye, opening the gates, for more to fall. I just let them slide down my face as every frustration and emotion I've felt over the last few years bubble up to the surface.

While I'm sitting in the office battling with my emotions, a deep voice comes from behind me. "Did you still want to watch that movie?"

Not wanting him to know that I was crying, I keep looking down and furiously try to wipe the tears from my face. "Uh, yeah. I'll be down in a minute," I lock my eyes on the ground as I try to keep my voice as neutral as possible, hoping that he doesn't notice the emotion.

"Are you crying?" he asks, and I can hear him moving closer to me.

"I'm fine," I mumble, hoping he doesn't ask too many more questions, because I don't want him to know how sad my life has become. He's here to relax and figure out his own life, not listen to me babble about my problems.

"You're not okay. What's wrong?" he asks as he swings the chair back toward him but I don't look at him, I continue keeping my eyes on the ground, not giving him what he wants.

I need to make sure I keep my guard up, letting it down around him will just lead to me getting my heartbroken. If I get too close to him, my crush will get worse, and I'll just end up hurting.

But Smith seems to oblivious to the war that is going on in my head because he doesn't give me any space. Gripping my chin, he forces me to look at him and snaps, "Annabelle. Don't lie to me."