Chapter Twelve
Adrian
Unable to speak, I nodded. I must be dreaming, but Rip touching me, all that heat soaking through me, was as real as it got.
My heart pounded as Rip’s mouth settled over mine.
I didn’t care that we were in a public place where anyone passing by could see us.
All that mattered was his warm, hard lips demanding my submission, and I opened beneath him and sucked his velvety tongue.
This was Rip. Not the superstar hockey player on the ice, whom fans loved and cheered, but the man I’d crushed on since I was a teenager.
Strong fingers tangled in my hair, and Rip anchored me to him, taking me apart, breath by breath, until I almost swooned.
God, I was on fire. My lips tingled, and I fell into the storm of desire brewing in Rip’s golden-flecked eyes.
I drew in air, took the initiative, and touched my lips to his.
A wisp of a moan broke free, deep from his chest. It was the most sensual sound I’d ever heard, and I traced the bones of Rip’s face, taking care not to touch the fresh scrapes and bruises.
Our gazes locked, Rip held my chin and kissed me a second time, even more desperate and needy than before.
I spun out of control at his touch. It was as if no one existed but the two of us.
I couldn’t remember the last time I was kissed, but either way, it was nothing like this.
Rip owned me, took me apart and put me back together, whole but not the same. Never the same again.
“Adrian,” he whispered. He gentled his kisses, slower and more deliberate, but by this time, I was flying high and couldn’t move. “We’d better stop.”
“Wh-what?” I was woozy from desire and could’ve stayed there all night in our little private cocoon.
“I’m only human, and you’re way too tempting.” He continued to slide his fingers through my hair, and I understood why a cat loved being petted. I could’ve purred with contentment from his touch.
“It’s okay.” My face burned. “I—you can come upstairs with me.” I imagined us naked together. In bed. Rip on top of me, that hard-muscled body pressing me into the bed. Thrusting. Taking. I grew lightheaded with desire.
“I can’t.”
Disappointment flared in my chest. “Oh, yeah, of course. So…I, uh, guess I’ll see you after the game.”
“Yeah. You sure will.” He smiled against my cheek.
With reluctance, I pulled away and gazed into his flushed face. “We’re still friends? This is all just for my show, right?” I asked, hoping he’d say no.
He blinked rapidly. “What? Oh, yeah. The show. Right, right. We’re friends. This is all for show.”
Dispirited, I hung my head. Already Rip was withdrawing. He shifted away and raked the tangled hair off his brow.
Rising to his feet, Rip held out his hand. “Ready to go? We can ride up in the elevator together.”
“Sure. I’m tired.”
Side by side, we walked to the elevators, and I could hear the raucous laughter from the bar area. The doors opened, Rip walked inside, and I followed.
“What floor?” He held out his card to the scanner.
“Nine.”
“I’m on fifteen.”
We stood in silence waiting for the elevator to stop. I didn’t want to wait for him to speak, to hear excuses why he kissed me and how it wouldn’t—or couldn’t—happen again. “Night, Rip. See you after the game tomorrow afternoon.”
I pulled out my key card and entered my room. I sank onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. My fingers skimmed my swollen lips, and I replayed every delicious second of that explosive kiss.
He’s lonely, and he knew I was willing. It doesn’t mean anything.
And even this late at night, I got a text from Neil.
You’re in San Antonio for Rip’s game?
I didn’t want to answer but knew he’d keep bugging me until I did.
Yeah. I’m covering the game with our affiliates.
I waited, knowing Neil would have more to say, and I wasn’t disappointed.
You said it’s not real, but isn’t this taking it a little far? Traveling halfway across the country?
I could only imagine what Neil really wanted to say and held off because he didn’t want to have an argument. I pressed my lips together.
I’m doing what I need to do. That’s it. I’m going to sleep. Good night.
Now if only I believed my own story. After Rip’s kiss, I was more in love with him than ever.
**
It was an ugly game. Like the Blades, the Strikers were on top of their division and third in points in the league. I lost count of the number of times I covered my eyes to keep from watching the fights. Tensions ran high, and in the end, the Blades lost.
Knowing Rip would likely be in a lousy mood, I stayed away from the locker room and returned to the hotel.
I showered, changed from my jersey, and settled in, waiting to hear from him about what we were doing for the evening but then decided to take the initiative for once.
I made a reservation at the steak restaurant in the hotel, which I’d read was one of the best in the city.
It was close to seven when Rip texted me.
Just got to the hotel.
I answered him immediately: I’m ready anytime you are.
I might not be the best company.
Athletes, like performers and other creatives, tended to base their self-worth on their public performances. My job tonight, therefore, was to play the good boyfriend and lift Rip out of his funk. Of course, if we were truly dating, my method would be decidedly sexier than a good steak dinner.
Did I dare? We’d already kissed, and I sensed he’d been as turned-on as I had.
If we were two consenting adults, why couldn’t we have sex?
There’d be no expectation on my part that Rip would fall in love with me, and I could finally put to rest the silly crush I had on him.
I’d built up such a fantasy of Rip being the perfect lover, the reality couldn’t possibly live up to the hype.
I waited in the hotel lobby, noticing several Blades players commiserating over drinks.
My attention was drawn to the corner table, where Denis was sitting with a group.
He finished the contents of his glass and caught my eye.
A grin spread across his face, and he licked his lips.
Heat prickled through me, and I broke eye contact.
“Sorry. I had to wait for the elevator.” A little out of breath, Rip put a hand on my shoulder, and noticing the group in the bar, leaned in close.
“I’m really glad you’re here tonight.” A kiss I knew was meant to be quick turned slow and deliberate, and I held on to him, my tongue daring to slip into his mouth.
“Adrian…”
My name on his lips, all rough and strained, set my blood on fire. I did that to him. Me, Adrian, who’d never had a date in high school or college, was turning on one of the sexiest men in sports.
“What’s wrong?”
His arm tightened around my shoulders. “Nothing. You’re just making it hard.”
“Is that a bad thing?” I slanted a look up at him and could see the indecision in his eyes. I didn’t want to be the cause of more problems, weighing him down.
“Maybe. I’m not sure. And that’s the problem. I can’t think about anything but the game right now. We lost today, and I’m pissed about it.”
The moment vanished, and I brushed a light kiss to his cheek. “Let’s have dinner, and you can tell me all about it. I’m a great sounding board.”
“Are you sure?” Doubt was written in every furrow of his brow. “I’m…angry.”
“There’s no other place I’d rather be. Come on. I have reservations at the steak house here. It’s supposed to be excellent.”
We walked into the dimly lit restaurant, where I’d asked for a corner table so we could have privacy.
Rip ordered a Scotch, and I chose wine. After we gave our order, I reached out and took his hand. “Talk to me.”
He chewed on a piece of buttered bread. “It’s not just one thing.
I mean, obviously, we lose games. But Coach took me out more than usual, and I’m just wondering if he’s planning on Lindstrom taking my position.
Which doesn’t make sense during a playoff race, but I can’t help thinking something’s going on. ”
“If you’d played more, would you have won the game?”
He shrugged. “Guess we’ll never know. And I’m not saying Lindy isn’t good. He is. But he’s only had two years in the league. I’ve had more than fifteen. That should count for something.”
Morosely, he chomped on the crusty bread and stared into space. Several patrons recognized him, and he put on a smile.
“I’m sorry,” I said, wincing at my thoughtlessness. “I should’ve realized you probably wanted to be alone tonight. We should’ve stayed in.”
He covered my hand with his. “No. It’s good.” His frank gaze captured mine, and my breath caught. “I’m glad you’re here, Adrian.”
“Me too.”
Our food came, and it was delicious. Rip seemed to be in a better mood, and I even got him to laugh at my story of the mishap that got me fired from my first job.
“She was practically sitting on the man’s lap, and they were kissing. Like, tongues down each other’s throats.”
“And you didn’t know she was the boss’s wife?”
As devastated as I’d been at the time, I could joke about it now.
“No. I just remember when I saw it was the mayor, I figured it would be a good gossip piece. Like, Who is this mystery woman with the mayor?” So I took a few pictures with my phone, and we ran with the story.
You couldn’t see her face, but the station manager recognized her dress and hair—I mean, she was his wife—and called me in at the end of the day and fired me. ”
Rip toyed with my fingers. “That’s not fair. It wasn’t your fault.”
“I guess, but he had ultimate control at the station. And I was young and easily replaceable.”
“Young, yeah.” Rip held on to my hand. “Replaceable? I’m not so sure about that.”
The air vibrated between us, and a yearning grew in my core, blood beating thick and heavy in my veins.
“Rip,” I whispered, and I saw a reflection of my desire in his eyes. My pulse spiked. He wanted me.
“I’ll get the check,” he rasped and scanned the restaurant for our server.
A man, tall and tattooed, with a weathered face and hazel eyes, walked to our table. His boots clanked on the wooden floor.
“Ripley?”
Rip froze and slowly withdrew his hand from mine. “Who are you? What do you want?”
“I’m John Carver. I heard you were here. C’mon, son. I just wanna talk. Can’t we at least try that?”
Son? Oh, my God. This was Rip’s father.
“Don’t call me that,” Rip growled. “I’m not your son. And no. I’m busy, and I don’t have time.”
“I drove almost five hours from Dallas just to see you. I’m sure your friend will understand.” Carver gave me a perfunctory glance.
Rip rose, anger blazing from his eyes. “Don’t dismiss him. I didn’t ask you to come. Nothing you can say can ever change the truth. You walked out and left my mother to raise me alone. I blame you for the fact that she had to work nights at that crappy diner. That’s why she’s not here to see me.”
“Rip, let’s go.” I grabbed his hand, and he held on to me as if flood waters threatened to tear us apart.
“I wanted to,” Carver started explaining, “but—”
“But what? You had better things to do? Finish a six-pack? Put another bet on the horses or the game?”
Rip shook with anger. I’d never seen him so emotional, except for the last time his father had called.
“Rip,” I whispered. “It’s okay. I’m here.”
His grateful smile, trembling at the corners of his mouth, almost broke me, but I held on strong. I heard him draw in a steadying breath.
“It wasn’t like that,” Carver went on. “I-I know I made mistakes, but you’re my son, dammit.” His voice echoed in the hushed restaurant, and Rip paled.
A murmur rose around us, and I tugged at Rip’s hand. “We should go. This isn’t the time or place for this.”
Carver pinned me with a fierce glare. “Who are you to tell us anything?”
Rip jabbed a finger at Carver. “Don’t you dare speak to him like that. Or at all. He’s more my family than you’ll ever be. I’ve got nothing to say except you and I might share blood, but that’s it. Now stay away from me.”
We strode out of the restaurant and into the hotel lobby, Rip still holding my hand in a death grip.
“I’m so sorry, Rip.”
Rip kept quiet, and I didn’t push, knowing there was nothing I could do to help him. Walking through the lobby, I saw Rip’s teammates were still hanging out at the bar, including Denis. Absolutely not the place for Rip to be, so I steered him toward the elevators.
“Let’s go upstairs.”
With a sigh, he stopped and leaned against the wall. “I’m all right. You don’t have to babysit me.”
“Is that what you think I’m doing here?” Breathing heavily, I met his eyes. Every cell in my body yearned for him, and it must’ve shown in my eyes. I couldn’t deny it any longer.
Before he responded, the doors slid open, and a couple of guys walked out.
“Whoa, Rip Tremaine. Tough loss.”
Rip’s smile was faint. “Yeah.”
“Can we get a pic?”
I held the elevator and watched Rip pretend to be okay. He joined me inside, and the doors slid shut.
God, what a life, where no matter how bad you hurt, both mentally and physically, you needed to pretend for the fans.
When did he get the chance to be himself?
Suddenly I remembered the young Rip tearing across the frozen lake in town, Neil whooping with laughter behind him.
We were all so innocent then. A fleeting golden age we’d neither understood nor appreciated and which was now lost forever. It brought tears to my eyes.
“I should go to my room, and you to yours, Adrian. We said this was only for show.” His gaze was fixed straight ahead, and I nudged him.
“What about that kiss?” We were almost at my floor, so it was now or never. My face burned. I’d never been so pushy, but I’d never wanted anyone as bad as I did Ripley Tremaine. This might be my only chance.
“I shouldn’t have.” He met my eyes. “But—”
“No buts.” Where I got the courage to say these things, I didn’t know. I laid my fingers across his mouth. “I know this was supposed to be for show, but I want to be with you. And I think you want me too.”