CHAPTER NINETEEN
Aspen
I lay wrapped in Cal’s arms with my head on his chest. My mind is left racing. Who would have thought Calan Miles would’ve had such a filthy mouth? Holy shit. We haven’t even had sex, and he just put some of my book boyfriends to shame. I wonder what this means for us. Are we together? Are we still just friends, or friends with benefits now?
“You know, I was thinking . . .” He trails off.
A few seconds pass, and I’m met with silence. I tilt my head up to look at his gorgeous face. Oh gosh, please don’t tell me you regret this—that this was a mistake.
“Yeah? Don’t waste time leaving me in suspense,” I whisper.
His brows furrow. “I think . . . look, I don’t know where this is going, but we’ve obviously crossed over the friend zone.”
He’s read my mind several times in the past. It’s like he has a direct line to my thoughts. A rush of electricity zings through my entire body at his words. I still don’t have clarity, but at least it’s something.
“Oh, is that so, Captain Obvious?” I crane my head, nipping at his bottom lip.
He rolls from his back, bracing himself on one arm while he hovers over me, then he runs his nose along my cheek. Grabbing the hair on the nape of my neck, he gently tilts my head back, trailing kisses across my collarbone and up my neck, until his lips line up with my ear.
“One day, you’re going to pop off to me, and I’m going to fuck that smart ass mouth of yours to shut you up,” he growls.
“W—what?” I gasp.
Who the fuck is this man? Holy fuck—that mouth! Yes, please. I volunteer; sign me up for that! I mean, if he’s going to threaten me with a good time, then I’ll just keep popping off. I want to make him lose his mind. I want to know what it would feel like to please him: to pull sounds from him that he’s never made before, to see his muscles strain, head thrown back, to watch the look of euphoria take over his expression when I make him cum.
“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” He breaks me out of my thoughts. “You’re thinking about what it would be like to be on your knees pleasing me, and I’m thinking how pretty you would look with tears streaming down your cheeks as I thrust my cock in and out of these beautiful lips.” He gently pecks my lips, then pulls back and chuckles. He fucking chuckles in response and tosses me a wink. Ass .
The next few days pass in a blur. Between work and Tucker’s practices and games, I haven’t had time to think about much. But as I sit at my desk, worries begin to invade my thoughts. I haven’t seen Cal since we left Chicago, and now I’m contemplating what he meant when he said we’ve crossed over the friend zone. Are we fuck buddies now? I mean, we haven’t really slept together, but that label may still apply. Does this mean we’re together?
God, can he be any more confusing? What if he regrets our intimacy? What if he decides I’m not really what he wants? What if this changes our friendship completely and I lose him? I’m driving myself insane. Okay, Aspen, be reasonable here. Cal’s been busy: practices, interviews, and endorsement contract obligations. So, his lack of presence shouldn’t worry me. When I think about our combined responsibilities, I realize this is just an irrational fear, one I really need to get over if I have any real shot at making this work with him.
I’m in the middle of working through my racing thoughts with no answer in sight when a knock sounds at my office door. I look up to see Harold, our security manager, standing in the open doorway staring at me nervously. My brows furrow in curiosity. “What’s going on, Harold?”
“Miss. Taylor. I hate to bother you, but there is a gentleman here demanding to speak with you. He came by on Friday, but you had already left for Chicago. Said that you knew him, but we get a lot of that here. You know, wackos trying to get in to see the players?”
My curiosity is piqued. “Did he give you a name?” I begin to straighten up the disarray that sits atop my desk. I wasn’t expecting any visitors this week.
“He said his name is . . .” Harold lifts the sticky note close to his face. “Jason Bryant.”
All the blood drains from my face, and a tingling feeling shoots to my head, causing my vision to go dark. My back stiffens ramrod straight. I’m stuck in a state of shock and disbelief. A million questions and thoughts run through my mind. What the fuck is Jason doing in New York? How did he know I was in New York? How does he know where I work? He can’t be here! We haven’t spoken since the day he signed away his rights. What if Tucker were here? I don’t want to talk to him . My shock turns to fear. What if I don’t talk to him in this safeguarded space? What if I refuse, and he corners me when I’m out somewhere with Tucker? If that happened, how would I explain who he is to Tucker? Fear has me folding like a cheap tent. “Can you seat him in the reception area and offer him a beverage, please? Oh, and stay with him until someone comes to get him.”
My trembling hands pick up my cell phone. My first instinct is to call Cal, but he’s in practice, and the last thing I need right now is to have my current whatever he is in the same room as my son’s deadbeat dad. Especially with how protective he is over Tucker. I settle for tracking down River.
River is squinting at her computer screen when I storm through her office door. “Houston, we have a problem.”
She moves her mouse, clicking away. “We do! For some reason, the dpi on this logo image is set to seventy-six. It needs to be set at three hundred. I’ve tried like hell to convert it, but without a raw file, it’s still going to be pixilated. Who does our graphics anyway? I need to give them . . .” She stops her rant when she looks up to see my worried expression. “What’s wrong?”
“Jason is here.”
She stops what she’s doing, crosses her arms against her chest, and leans back in her office chair, causing a loud squeak to fill the room. I make a mental note to buy a new office chair. A frown puckers her lips. “Here in New York?”
I shake my head vehemently. “No. Here. In the facility. More specifically, in the reception area.”
“Tha fuck?” Her eyes widen; she stands and begins to march out the door.
I place my hand on her shoulder, stopping her from stomping down there to unleash hell on him. “I’m going to meet with him, but I want you to be there, please.”
“Why?” She throws her arms in the air. “You don’t owe him a goddamn thing! Why not just send his ass on his merry way?”
I can see this isn’t going to work; she’s too close to the situation. I thought she could give me moral support to make it through this, but maybe I need someone who isn’t going to shank the guy. “I know, I should. But it’s better to do this here than to have him catching me off guard with Tucker present. I can just have Teagan sit in with me.”
“Teagan is at lunch,” she counters.
I squint my eyes at her with skepticism. “Okay then, I’ll call Hannah.” I pull Hannah up on my contacts.
River covers my hand and sighs. “I’ll be on my best behavior. You can call them in if you want, but I’m still going to be there.”
“Don’t assault anyone on my premises. I can’t afford a scandal right now.” I direct a pointed finger her way and give her my best stern mom impersonation.
River turns back to her desk, locking her computer. We walk to my office in sync, where I deposit her before retrieving Jason. My heart and mind are racing, and my hands are still shaking. My emotions have been all over the place today, like a proverbial roller coaster. It’s only one in the afternoon, and I’m ready to call it a day. I round the corner, finding Jason in the reception area watching this past weekend’s hockey game against Chicago on the big screen.
I quickly gather myself and address him. “Jason, if you will follow me, we can talk inside my office.” I give Harrold a tilt of my head towards my office, signaling him to follow.
River is standing against the wall with her arms crossed against her chest and a closed-off expression. “I would say it’s good to see you, Skip, but it’s really not.”
I shake my head at her and direct him to have a seat before stepping outside my office to address Harold; I say to them, “I’ll be with you in just a moment. River, try to keep your hands to yourself.”
I saunter into the hallway, meeting our security guard. “If you don’t mind, please stay in the conference room next door in case I need you.”
“Sure thing, Miss Taylor.”
I waltz back in and sit down at my desk with my hands clasped tightly in my lap. The last thing I need is for him to see that he unnerves me. Jason is seated in the chair across from my desk. His head swivels around to take in my office; then his gaze bores into me.
“What can I do for you, Jason?”
Cal
This has been a shit week. My body took a hell of a beating at our game in Chicago; practices this week have been brutal, and I still have the remnants of deep bruising on my rib cage.
Coach is standing in the middle of the locker room with a clipboard in his hand. “Alright, ladies, listen up.” Coach calls out. “Johnson, good job initiating those breakaways against Chicago; I want to see more of that. This week is important. We need to lock in that dub to keep our position in the rankings. Now, I don’t need to tell you how tough Colorado is. . .”
I stop listening and lose focus as my mind takes over. I begin to reel at the realization I’ll be back in Colorado this week. Fuck. I hate going back to that Godforsaken place.
“Let’s light ‘em up this week, boys!” Coach yells out, and a chorus of chanting fills the locker room.
I hit the shower, then dress as fast as possible. As I run up the stairs to leave the facility, I catch sight of one of the security guards standing watch over the entryway to the executive offices.
“What’s up, Michaelson?”
Daniel Michaelson is around my age. He was on the N.Y.P.D. but was injured in the line of duty five years ago. He is one of the best security guards we have here. I’m pretty sure as soon as Harold retires at the end of this season, Daniel will be taking over his position.
He gives me a nod in greeting. “Miss Taylor has a visitor. Harold radioed for me to guard this area to make sure no one comes down to interrupt you guys during practice.”
That confuses me. What the fuck is going on, and who would be visiting that we would be concerned with? “Do you know who the visitor is?”
“No. I’m sorry, I don’t, Mr. Miles. Harold didn’t say.” He says with a hand resting on his gun.
Now, I’m freaked the hell out. I make a mad dash down the hallway to her office, where I find River standing against the wall with her arms crossed, lips pursed, and her eyes shooting daggers at the man seated in front of Aspen’s desk. I casually linger in the doorway like I belong in this meeting. I don’t give a fuck who this guy is; if Harold is worried enough to call Michaelson to guard the door to the ice rink, then there is no way in hell I’m leaving Aspen in this room without me.
“So, Skip. Are you going to speak, or just sit there and look like a literal idiot?” River asks as I walk through the doorway.
Who the fuck is Skip?