Luna
TWELVE
I stare at the camera, my chest heaving from exhaustion. Goosebumps appear on my skin, and I rub my arms to stop the thrill that just flooded my body.
I feel him.
I shake my head at the absurdity that he could be watching me and drop my gaze.
I feel him because that whole dance was about him.
Lying in bed earlier, I couldn’t stop thinking about him, and I got inspired. His whole story came alive in my head through dance. Not being able to wait, I drove here and have been working on it for the past two hours.
It’s not the first time I haven’t been able to sleep and find myself here.
Walking over to my phone, I stop the music and turn off the live feed that I recorded so I can watch it later and study my techniques.
A text pops up, and I grin when I see Connor’s name.
Connor
Are you awake?
Deciding to call him instead, so I can talk to him while I drive home. I dial his number and listen to the ring while I gather my things.
“Please don’t tell me you're in the studio at this hour?” he asks right away when he picks up.
“Please don’t tell me you’re texting me next to a warm body you just brought home from the club?” I ask back, grinning at the phone.
“Fine, you win. We both have our faults,” he sighs.
“Dancing is not a fault,” I laugh.
“It is when it’s the only thing that makes those gorgeous legs of yours happy. They should be wrapped around a hot guy at this hour, not dancing alone in the middle of the night.”
“Did you call me just to get on me about my lack of a sex life or is there another reason I’m owed this pleasure?” I quip back, locking the studio and walking to my Jeep.
“Talking to me is a pleasure,” he agrees. “Thank you for acknowledging that.”
“You are so full of it,” I chuckle, throwing my bag on the front seat next to me before heading out of the parking lot.
“You know you love me,” he taunts.
“You know I do,” I smile, coming to a stop at a light.
“Well, you are going to love me even more because I’ll be there on Saturday and I’m taking your ass out.”
“This Saturday? I thought you were coming next weekend?”
“I have an audition next weekend that popped up, and since I happened to be free this weekend, I changed my flight.”
“What if I had plans this weekend?”
“Do you?” He prods.
“No, but I could have,” I pout.
His laughter fills the car, and I frown. “Somehow I knew it was safe to take the chance to book my flight.”
“Why does that sound pathetic?”
“Because it is,” he chuckles. “That’s why you have me. Wait until you see what I’ve got planned on Saturday.”
“Can’t wait,” I say, dryly, rolling my eyes.
“Trust me, Lu. You’re going to love this. My flight gets in late Friday night, so have an espresso martini waiting for me when I arrive. We are going to have so much fun!”
His excitement is infectious, and I can’t help but feel it too.
Maybe I do need to put myself out there more and let loose every once in a while. I’ve been so busy with starting my dance studio for the past two years that I’ve neglected my social life to the point that the most exciting action I’ve gotten recently has been a near kiss in a yoga session.
My body didn’t get the memo on it being nothing but a brief moment of acting on impulse because it’s still humming from everything that didn’t happen. Which tells me it’s been way too long since I’ve been with a man if a near kiss can undo me like this.
“I’ll have your martini ready,” I grin. “I think you’re just what I need for the weekend.”
“Duh,” he replies as if it’s already a known fact. “I’ll be right there!” He hollers to someone before getting back on. “I’m being summoned. I’ve got a frisky one on my hands tonight.” I can hear the grin in his voice and shake my head with a smile.
“Love you, Lu. See you Friday!” He exclaims before hanging up.
“Love you too,” I chuckle into the silence.
At least someone is going to have some fun tonight.
“A hockey game?” I stare at the NHL Bayside Bolts tickets that Connor is waving in the air. “Since when do you love hockey?”
After Connor arrived last night, I had an espresso martini ready like promised, and we ended up drinking and talking long into the night about anything and everything.
We spent the day at the beach today and are all ready for tonight, but nothing could have surprised me more than the tickets I’m staring at.
“They’re hot, sweaty men on skates, roughing each other up. What part of that did you think I wouldn’t love?” He arches his brow and his blue eyes twinkle as he waits for my answer.
“Good point,” I laugh. “I just wasn’t expecting a sporting event over taking me out dancing.”
“Oh, we’re still going dancing,” he grins wickedly. “The hockey game is just a warm-up. Now grab your purse. I want to have enough time to get drinks before the game starts.” He shoos me to my bedroom and smacks my ass.
“I’m going,” I giggle, disappearing into my bedroom.
Studying myself in the mirror, I debate whether to change my thigh-high black boots because of the hockey game, but decide they look too cute with the black dress and will look good on the dance floor later.
My hair is down tonight and slightly curled, hanging in waves down my back. I chose a smoky eye look, making the green of my eyes stand out even more. I had forgotten how fun it is to dress up. Most of my outfits consist of yoga pants and a sports bra, so it’s nice to feel sexy for a change.
It’s not really a hockey game look, but I don’t want to go dancing at a club later in jean shorts and a t-shirt, so it will have to do.
Grabbing my purse, I make sure I have my phone before heading back out to the living room.
“I’m ready,” I say, walking over to him as he looks up from his phone and smiles.
He’s wearing dark pants and a grey V-neck shirt that hugs his toned chest from years of dance.
He’s a very good-looking guy with dark hair and blue eyes.
I’m sure there are a lot of heartbroken girls out there who wish he were straight, but Connor definitely only swings one way and makes it clearly known.
“Uber’s ready,” he says, pocketing his phone and grabbing the tickets from the counter. I follow him outside and lock my door before following him down the stairs.
The drive at this hour only takes thirty minutes, and it passes quickly as we make small talk with the driver, who was excited to learn that Connor lives in New York, close to where he grew up.
We’re dropped off in front of the arena, and after handing them our tickets, we get two beers before finding our seats.
“I have to admit this is pretty exciting,” I grin, seeing all the fans in black and white Bolts jerseys. You can almost feel the swirl of anticipation in the air as they wait for the game to start.
If Cayden’s games even feel half of what this crowd feels like, I can see why he loves it.
“I knew you would. This guy I met took me to a New York Devils game once, and I about drooled on myself when I saw their captain. When I heard he got transferred here, I thought I might as well sneak a peek again,” he wickedly smiles.
“So, that’s why we’re here,” I laugh. “Don’t worry. I’ll be your wingman if he happens to see you after the game.”
“No,” he laughs. “He’s married with a baby on the way, but that doesn’t mean I don’t get to appreciate hotness when I see it.
Tonight, though, is all about you. You’re not my wingman this evening—I’m yours,” he winks before stopping at our seats, which happen to be front row right to the side of the goalie net.
I decide to let him have his fun, but I highly doubt I’ll find someone interesting enough to need a wingman. “Nice seats,” I whistle softly instead.
“Only the best for my Lu,” he smiles. “Plus, everyone knows the goalie is the one to watch and where the most action is.” He waves me in first, and I take a seat before he sits down next to me.
The lights dim just then, and a spotlight comes on, zigzagging across the arena. We stand with the crowd as the Bolts’ opening song comes on and adrenaline courses through my body, soaking up the excited atmosphere in the stands tonight.
The players hit the ice one by one, and the crowd goes wild as the announcers call off the starting lineup.
“That’s the captain,” Connor yells over the crowd as number twenty-two hits the ice. I get a glimpse of his face as he skates by and blink in surprise.
“I know him,” I laugh. “That’s Knox Stone. His wife, Savi, is friends with my sister. I had forgotten he played for the Bolts. I didn’t know he was the captain, though. I got invited to their wedding, but couldn’t make it because of a dance thing.”
“I cannot believe you know him and are just now telling me this. And for the love of God…why did you choose dance over seeing this fine specimen of a man in a tux? I could have been your plus one and been surrounded by hockey players all night!” He cries out, throwing his arms in the air.
“Sorry,” I laugh. “I really couldn’t make it, but if anything else comes up, you’ll be the first person I bring with me.”
“I’m holding you to that,” he says, with a pointed look.
Knox is very good-looking, I note, staring at his gorgeous face with piercing blue eyes. In fact, the whole starting line-up is attractive as they introduce them one by one. Maybe I do need to watch hockey more often.
I smile back at the blond-haired, blue-eyed model type who just grinned at me. His name, Hayes, is written on the back above his number thirteen.
“See, I told you,” Connor whispers in my ear. “Hockey men are H-O-T,” he spells out.
“I’m starting to believe you,” I laugh.
The crowd gets more amped up, and I crane my neck to see who is next to come out.
When Cayden Blade is called, the roar gets deafening as the goalie hits the ice.
Cayden? No, it can’t be.
But the shift in energy in the room says otherwise.
I would recognize it anywhere. My heart rate accelerates, and a sudden warmth floods my body as number forty does a lap around the rink.
His brunette hair is pushed back from his face, secured by his mask on top of his head.
The strong jawline and fierce look of dominance in those vivid green eyes have haunted my dreams for the past two weeks.
“I know him too,” I whisper, clutching Connor’s hand.
“Who,” he asks, following my line of sight. “The goalie?”
“That’s him. The one I was telling you about.” I swallow thickly.
After a few glasses of wine, I told Connor about meeting Cayden and all about our yoga sessions, needing someone to confide in about what I was feeling.
“Cayden from yoga is Cayden Blade? The Cayden Blade? The top goalie in the NHL? That Cayden Blade?” His eyes are wide in shock before he quickly starts laughing.
“Oh, fuck this is good. How the hell could you not know who he was? He’s the most talked-about player in the NHL.
He’s basically the face of the entire league. ”
“You know, I don’t go online much,” I say, in a hushed tone. “And I don’t follow hockey, so how the hell would I know who he was?” I squeak as the arena noise dies down for the national anthem.
I barely hear the person singing as I stare at Cayden on center ice, shuffling his feet with the rest of the line-up. They all look fierce and completely in the zone as their faces take on a menacing look.
Once the last note is played, his skates immediately take off.
“Oh, God, he’s coming this way,” I whisper, squeezing Connor’s hand harder. He skates over to his net and stops in front of it.
His body stills, and the pull between us that I’ve always felt gets stronger as he scans the crowd before landing on me. The air in my lungs vanishes as I struggle to take my next breath. His eyes flash briefly with surprise at seeing me here before they slowly graze down my body.
I’m suddenly wishing I had on a longer dress because I might as well be naked with how he’s looking at me. I feel bare and exposed and…
Wanted.
His eyes meet mine again, and heat flames my cheeks, causing an inferno in those greens as they darken.
He suddenly notices Connor next to me, and the hunger just seconds ago vanishes as he narrows his eyes, his lips forming in a tight line.
Gripping his stick with his glove, he flips his helmet down and turns away without so much as a smile.
And just like that, I’m left burning again for something I shouldn’t want.