Chapter 18
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
MAISIE
I’m still trying to process whatever the hell happened with Wilder once he finally showed up to the rink today, but I’ve been busy trying to make sure that today went off without a hitch.
And it did.
Everyone had an amazing time, and the kids left with the biggest smiles on their faces, new books to read, and a budding relationship with the players, who I have no doubt they’ll be talking about for weeks to come. It was everything I could’ve hoped for and more.
Except for the infuriating man who’s driving me insane with how quickly his demeanor changes.
One second, he’s cold and detached; the next, he’s causing my blood to run hot with his words and touches.
So hot that it feels like I’m melting from the inside out.
And God, do I want him. Even when he’s driving me insane and making me question everything, including my mad attraction to him, I still have an ache that’s always there, steady and pulsing whenever I’m near him.
I push through the exit doors of the rink and out into the parking lot, tugging the strap of my backpack higher onto my shoulder as I make my way over to my car.
Everyone else has already left, aside from me, and there’s only one other car in the lot.
I stayed to make sure that I picked everything up and left the rink exactly how it was before the event.
Loud thunder rolls in the sky, lightning clapping brightly somewhere nearby, taking me by surprise and causing me to nearly jump out of my skin.
I pick up the pace toward my car and click the Unlock button just as I feel the first drops of rain hitting my face.
A random afternoon storm in late September is nothing out of the ordinary for southern Louisiana, but of course, my umbrella is somewhere in my car, and I didn’t think to check the forecast before coming today.
Because who would I be if I were a hundred percent prepared?
I hurriedly toss my bag and the banner into the trunk of my car as the rain starts to come down harder, pelting my skin almost angrily. The sky caved in just in the minutes it took me to walk across the parking lot.
“Crap,” I mutter as I slam the trunk shut and run to the driver’s side, tugging at the handle.
Only it doesn’t budge.
What?
I try it again before sprinting over to the passenger door… also locked.
Oh no… my keys are in my bag. Which is now in the trunk of my glitchy car that of course has auto-locked on its own.
Which means that I’m locked out of my car, stuck in the pouring rain.
My shoulders deflate as I sigh and push my drenched hair out of my eyes.
I guess things could always be worse. I could have left my phone in my bag instead of my pocket, or it could be the middle of the night when no one would be available to come unlock my car.
There’s always a positive, my daddy has always said.
You just have to be dedicated to finding it.
I can practically hear him say that in my head, and a small laugh spills out of me.
Reaching into the back pocket of my jeans, I pull out my phone and attempt to shield the screen with my other hand as I pull up my car insurance and request roadside assistance.
Estimated wait time: 2 hours.
Well, apparently, lots of other people need assistance during this storm.
Perfect. Just perfect.
I glance around the empty lot, again noticing the other car. I wonder who it belongs to?
I didn’t see anyone else inside the rink. Maybe someone from the maintenance crew? I quickly shove my phone back in my pocket, praying that it doesn’t get ruined by the rain. I highly doubt that’s even a possibility at this point since I’m completely soaked already, rain dripping down my face.
Another laugh tumbles free at the thought of how I probably look like a drowned rat at this point.
It could always be worse.
I tilt my head and stare up at the sky, letting the fat, heavy raindrops splash my face, surprised at how… refreshing it feels.
Even though I obviously wouldn’t choose to be stuck outside in the middle of a storm… I’m oddly not entirely mad about it.
I can’t even remember the last time I was caught in the rain. The last time I felt the drops on my face. Stopped to smell the fresh, earthy scent as it surrounded me.
Lifting my arms, I spin around in a circle, laughing, my face turned toward the sky. I stick my tongue out, attempting to catch drops on it as if they’re snowflakes, laughing until my sides hurt as I spin around.
I’m probably slightly delirious at this point after the day I’ve had, but I feel like a kid again, playing in the rain, breathing in fresh air, and letting the water wash away every ounce of negativity with it.
My socks and shoes are already so wet that they make ridiculous squelching sounds as I walk over to a newly created puddle and jump right into it.
God, this is so ridiculous, but I love it.
It feels so liberating not to care what I look like or who could be watching me.
There’s so much freedom in not caring about what anyone else thinks.
I wish I could bottle this feeling up and save it for another rainy day.
I toss my head back and laugh at the pun before I suck in a long, deep breath and then blow it out, spinning around, giggling again when my feet splash water up onto my legs.
“What the fuck are you doing?” a deep, rough voice yells over the sound of the wind and rain.
My eyes fly open, and I turn to find the source.
Wilder’s standing a few feet away from me, his black hoodie pulled over his head to shield him from the rain, a futile effort, seeing as how it’s already drenched. The fabric of both the hoodie and sweatpants is plastered against his body, molded to the sharp curves and dips of his muscles.
I’m beginning to understand what the big deal is about a pair of gray sweats because of the man standing in front of me.
I grin. “I’m playing in the rain, Coach. What does it look like I’m doing?”
“Playing in the rain?” he echoes, his voice deadpan.
“Yep.”
He mutters a curse and stalks closer until he’s standing directly in front of me.
It hits me in the moment just how devastatingly beautiful a man he is.
His eyes are as stormy as the one we’re standing in, swirls of onyx dancing in his dark brown irises as he stares at me hard.
Raindrops cling to his long, black eyelashes.
Rivulets run down his sharp, angular jawbones and onto the dip above his full, pillowy lips.
My heart crashes in my chest as I resist the urge to lean forward and lick away those droplets, vividly recalling the way he tasted as his tongue tangled with mine and he stole the air right from my lungs.
The night that plays on constant repeat in my mind, even when I’ve begged myself to stop it.
“It’s fucking storming,” he finally says with a frown.
“It is.”
Silence stretches between us while he cocks his head and studies me like he’s trying to figure me out.
“Why are you out here, Maisie? It’s almost dark.”
I know that he’s not asking about dancing in the rain, but about why I’m still here.
At the arena.
I lift my shoulder. “I locked my keys in the car, and I’m waiting on roadside, and… I just figured I should make the best of it.”
“You could’ve come back to the arena,” he barks before dragging a large palm down his face, trying to wipe the rain away. “You should have.”
I drag my tongue along my bottom lip, capturing the drops, and his gaze tracks the motion, his eyes flashing with heat.
“I didn’t know anyone else was still here to let me back inside.
Honestly, I’m fine. I’m not going to melt from the rain.
You can go back inside and do whatever it was that you were doing.
” Taking a step back, a step away from him, I lean back against the side of my car, watching as he stays rooted in place, those dark eyes trained on me so intensely that it feels like he’s physically caressing me with his gaze.
When he steps closer again, his head shaking as if he can’t decide whether to choke me or kiss me, I swallow hard, holding his stare.
“You’re driving me goddamn crazy. You realize that?
” His voice dips low, the words rough as he speaks them, like he’s fighting something within himself to get them out.
“And I can’t decide what’s worse. The fact that you probably know and do it anyway or that you don’t even realize you’re doing it at all. ”
I lick my lips, peering up at him through my damp lashes. He’s standing so close that I could reach out and fist the front of his shirt between my fingers, pull him to me, taste the rain on his lips.
But I don’t.
I keep my hands tightened into fists by my side, my nails biting into my palms.
“Yeah, well, I could say the same about you,” I whisper, tugging my lip between my teeth and biting down before I can say anything else.
Rain continues to assault us both, the wind whipping, whistling loudly in the air all around us, the clouds covering the sun, blanketing everything in a shadow of darkness.
It’s started raining harder since we’ve been out here, but I’ve barely even felt it because I’ve been unable to focus on anything besides Wilder.
How could I when he’s standing this close?
When I’m surrounded by the woodsy, masculine scent of him.
His gaze slowly moves down my body when I shift on my feet, dropping to my chest, where his eyes go molten, his throat working roughly as he swallows.
I glance down too then, suddenly realizing that my light yellow T-shirt is plastered against me, soaked from the rain, molding to every inch of my skin.
And the thin bra I have on beneath does nothing to hide my hardened nipples.
Part of me wants to immediately reach up and cover myself now that it’s hit me that I’m practically standing here topless in front of him.
The still-modest part of me.
The one who walked into that bar for the first time and was terrified to do something so daring and bold when she’d never done anything like it before.
But then… there’s the part of me that likes the way his eyes hungrily roam over me.
The part of me that has come to crave the man standing in front of me, however off-limits he’s supposed to be. The part that feels free and unashamed to chase what she wants.
The part of me that gives me the courage to slip my fingers between my thighs at night, thinking of nothing but him.
Knowing that it’s forbidden only makes it feel so much more alluring.
Wilder’s eyes slowly swing from one breast to the other, and I swear I hear him let out a groan, deep and low, and the pure hunger within his gaze causes a shiver to dance down my spine, a violent shudder racking my body.
“You’re cold,” he mutters, seemingly more to himself than to me.
I want to correct him, tell him that there’s not a cold part on my body right now. That his eyes and the blatant desire burning bright in them is the reason my body’s reacting.
That it feels like my insides are on fire.
But before I can even speak, he’s reaching for my hand, his large palm enveloping mine as he tugs me forward, turning back to the arena.
“Let’s go. You’re coming inside. I have extra clothes in my office.
You can wait in there until they get here.
” He’s tugging me along, and I pull back, yanking his hand, halting him.
Once again, he’s trying to patronize me as if I’m a child who’s not capable of caring for myself.
“I don’t need you to take care of me. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Wilder,” I say as I rip my hand out of his. “Please, just go back inside, and I’ll wait here.”
For a beat, silence presses down on us, but then he’s moving, closing the distance between us, dipping his head low.
“I know you can take care of yourself, Maisie. I never said that you couldn’t.
But you’re not standing out here in the goddamn rain, cold and fucking shivering, while there’s a perfectly dry, warm building right fucking there.
Now, are you going to walk, or do I need to put your ass over my shoulder and carry you inside? ”