Chapter 5 Serena
Bates Finnegan makes me feel uneasy, like he’s slithering beneath my skin every time he looks at me.
His gaze today felt like it had the last time we locked eyes, at the team dinner this past summer.
But today … it was the same yet different.
Heavier. Hungrier, like a wild animal that hasn’t eaten in days.
I knew that seeing him again would likely stir up the excitement I’d felt the first time I met him, when he tried to flirt with me and ask me out. But even if he were to ask me again today, my answer would be no, regardless of my secret masked admirer.
Although I’m nervous that I scared him off after our first meet because he’s been damn near radio silent for the last week. I feel like I’m going mad. I came to the rink to get a distraction—something I didn’t want from Bates.
I’m certainly not going to get involved with one of my dad’s players.
It would only end messily, and I refuse to even entertain the idea.
My dad has worked so hard for his career, and I won’t play a role in jeopardizing or complicating it.
The team he has now is damn near unbeatable.
They’re the best chance he’s ever had to win the cup.
I want nothing more than to watch that dream of his come true.
Awareness skates across the tops of my shoulders and the back of my neck—a feeling I’ve become far too familiar with as of late. A feeling of being watched.
After lunch with my dad in his office at the rink, I’m heading back to my car, and I can’t shake the sensation that I’m being followed. I step through the door that leads into the parking garage, wondering if whoever it is will continue as it clicks shut.
Is it my masked man? Did he follow me here? Has he been lurking in the shadows since then, waiting for me to be alone?
My heart rate kicks up when I think of seeing him again. He disappeared so fast out of that closet that I couldn’t even process it before he was already gone. And his silence since then has only sent me down a spiral of what-ifs and worry.
The door clicks shut again, but when my head whips around, I see no one. No movements, nothing.
“Hello?” I call out behind me as I continue to walk through the nearly empty parking garage toward my car, clutching Freddie a little tighter in my arms. “Is anyone there?”
I mentally slap myself for the cliché questions. Have I learned nothing from all the movies I’ve seen? You are never supposed to ask this.
“Never mind!” I call out, trying to correct my mistake.
My steps halt while my eyes slam shut with self-loathing. I’m such an idiot.
I’m pretty sure if this were a scary movie, I’d be the dumb female character they kill off in the first act.
Creepy, silent parking garage? Check.
Cute heeled boots that are nearly impossible to run in? Check.
Asking stupid questions and giving away my exact location? Check.
My only saving grace is that I have Freddie. Maybe my cute pup will deter the killer. Let’s hope the director of my horror movie is an animal lover.
Unless the killer just wants Freddie for himself. Oh God, in that scenario, I’m the only thing in his way.
Stop.
I physically lift my hand up, halting my racing mind. I chuckle at myself in disbelief, opening my eyes, and coming face-to-face with Bates Finnegan.
I jump out of my skin, and shriek, “Fuck!”
Bates stands five feet from me, staring down at me with a curious and humorous gaze. He snickers. “Relax. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
His pressed lips and slight smirk do little to hide that scaring me was exactly what he wanted.
“Right,” I murmur sarcastically, easing up on the death grip on Freddie, who seems excited to see Bates.
He wiggles in my arms, trying to get free, but I hold him in place, shushing him to settle down.
A shiver runs down my back, but I don’t miss the warmth burning into my cheeks beneath his stare. He has no shame in the way he looks at me, not bothering to hide his amusement.
Bates’s deep blue gaze makes me shift in place. While he stares unabashedly, I try to refrain from doing the same. But it’s hard when he looks like that.
He towers over me. He’s not just tall; he’s massive. He’s got to be well over six feet tall. Light to medium brown hair.
In the thin, long-sleeved Sinners shirt he has on, I can see the way his body ripples beneath the material, his upper arms filling the sleeves, even more so when he crosses them over his firm, bulging chest.
He’s attractive. That’s just a fact and certainly not a secret, especially to him. The arrogance that exists in his cocky smirk makes me want to slap it right off his face.
“Did you need something?” I ask him sharply, surprised by the aggression in my voice.
He shrugs, widening his stance ever so slightly.
The shape of his body is a tantalizing hourglass.
His shoulders taper down to his waist before widening over his thick, muscular thighs and calves, which are completely visible from the shorts he’s wearing, stopping a few inches above his knees.
Peeking out beneath them are a couple tattoos that draw my attention, but I force my focus back up at his face, a scowl on my lips.
“Aren’t you cold?” I ask, not forgetting the first question he ignored.
“I’m a hockey player.” He scoffs, amused at my seemingly dumb question. “I don’t get cold.”
I roll my eyes, and when they land on him again, his jaw is clenched and ticking. Good, if he is irritated with my response, maybe he’ll leave me alone. It’s better that way.
Annoyed with this entire conversation, I sigh, repeating myself. “Did you need something? Or can I get on with my day?”
He fake shudders. “Now I’m cold—from that tone. Why are you so angry with me, huh? I haven’t done anything to you.”
“I’m not angry. I just don’t need to talk to you. Simple as that.” My heart skips a beat. Self-hatred rolls through me.
He wets his lips. “Even when you secretly want to?”
This earns another eye roll. “You have no idea what I want.”
There’s only one man who does, and he’s certainly not you.
The blue swirls of his eyes darken. “Come on. I saw you watching me at practice.”
“More like you were watching me. Maybe you should keep your eyes on the puck.”
Biting down on the inside of his cheek, he smiles. “Hard to when you’re right there”—he takes a step toward me—“distracting me.”
He’s toying with me, like I’m a little doll, and he’s loving every second of it. Worse than that, a part of me is loving it too.
There’s a darkness in his aura that beckons to me, calls to the side of me that only my masked man knows. But I can’t entertain that with him, no matter what.
Besides, if Mr. Mystery even knew that this interaction was happening, he’d probably kill Bates himself.
“Goodbye.” I take a step forward, to the side of him, intent on escaping this conversation and him entirely.
Suddenly, his big hand juts out to his side, colliding with the top of my hip and stopping me in place. “Wait.”
I can feel the heat of his hand, burning into my side. “Still adamant about not dating a hockey player?”
This earns a haughty chuckle from deep within me. Not backing down from his intimidating stare, I look up at him, holding his hooded gaze.
A smirk drifts across my lips as they part. “I’d have no problem dating a hockey player. As long as they weren’t you.”
“Okay, now, you’re just outright flirting with me.” He grabs his heart, a smile growing on his face.
I also wouldn’t date any other player on my dad’s team, but that’s not the point I’m trying to make right now.
“I promise you, that is not what I’m doing.”
I look up at him, down at his hand, and back up at his eyes. Taking the hint, he removes his hand from my hip.
A shadow shifts into his eyes, darkening the usual bright blues even more. “So, you just have a problem with me then?”
I nod, feeling my confidence waver beneath the intensity in his voice.
“Really?”
Reaching out, his hand returns to my side, and I suck in a breath, scolding my body for betraying me and enjoying his touch.
Suddenly, his thumb strokes along the band of my sweater, finding the gap between it and my jeans. The second he caresses my bare skin, I suck in another sharp breath and jump back, watching his face twist with victory and arrogance as I wither beneath him.
He clicks his tongue, and his voice lowers to a husky whisper as he says, “You’re practically hyperventilating from a single touch. I don’t think I’m the problem at all. I think you’re scared by how badly you secretly want me.”
Forcing the excitement thrumming on the top of my skin to deep beneath the surface, I scoff. “You’re wrong. Keep to yourself, and next time you see me, pretend you didn’t. If you touch me again, I’ll report you to the organization for harassment.”
I storm past him, my body on fire from the confrontation.
He mutters something under his breath as I stride away from him.
“Did you have something else to add?” I whip back around, facing him as I near my vehicle.
He holds his hands in the air in defeat, and he doesn’t say a word.
But I could swear that what he muttered under his breath was, Doubt it.
I’m too worked up right now, more than I should be. UGH.
Setting Freddie down into his car seat, I hook his harness to it before sliding into my front seat and smacking the steering wheel.
I glance at Freddie in the rearview mirror, scolding him with a playful tone, “Hey, what’s up with you anyway? I need you on my side, not his.”
If Bates wasn’t still in earshot, I might just scream to let out some frustration.
I don’t want Bates Finnegan or any other hockey player, on my dad’s team or not. There’s only one man I need, and he’s nothing like Bates.
My Masked Valentine is thoughtful, sweet … a bit possessive and insane, but I like him a lot nonetheless. He’s worlds away from the prick Bates is.
Turning the ignition, I do my best to force Bates fucking Finnegan from my mind as I head to Bound-to-Be for the rest of the day.
Kerrigan and I are preparing for an invite-only date party for our clients tonight.
We have paired them with their perfect matches, and this lets them get to know one another without the pressure of being on an actual date.
These events are for the clients who don’t want to mingle with a big group, only in hopes of maybe finding someone, but rather have a direct line to their matches, which have been carefully crafted by us.
They’ll be surrounded by people in the same situation as them, giving them some peace of mind that they’re not alone in this vulnerable process.
By the time I reach the office, all thoughts of Bates are long gone, quickly replaced by my masked man as I set my things down on my desk and find a fresh arrangement of red roses with one of his handmade cards.
My Little Cupid,
These roses never die. Each wilted one secretly replaced.
There’s no length I won’t go. No rule I won’t break.
I’m a sinner for your love. Desperate for more.
If I show up and knock, will you open the door?
—Your Masked Valentine
Warmth blossoms in my chest, spreading outward from my racing heart. I’ll never get enough of these or enough of his attention.
I want more. I need more, especially after knowing what his touch feels like. I’m helpless beneath his grip, and that’s exactly where I want to be.
Lifting the vase full of fresh red roses, I inhale deeply, feeling the sudden burning gaze of my best friend at my back.
With my nose buried in the petals, I spin on my heel and face her, looking at her through my lashes.
She’s as good at hiding her feelings and expressions as a toddler. The absolute shock and excitement are clear as day with the way her jaw is plastered on the floor.
“I’m so envious. It’s not even funny. And, yes, I read the card already.” She melts into her chair dramatically before genuinely saying, “But I’m so happy for you, babe. You deserve all the love.”
I know she means it. We’ve been best friends forever and always celebrated each other’s wins, even when the win is a masked stalker who delivers roses to our place of business.
“When did he come by?” I ask, setting the vase down.
Her face scrunches up. “What do you mean?”
We stare at each other in confusion.
“They were on your desk when I got in this morning.”
Oh …
Apparently, breaking in doesn’t only extend to my house, but also to my office.
Immediately, I panic, knowing that he snuck in here before she got here. While I’m oddly okay with his invasiveness, I don’t know if she’d feel the same way.
“That’s right. I forgot …” I do a horrible job of trying to lie, but it doesn’t matter because she’d be able to sniff my dishonesty out like a bloodhound regardless of the delivery.
She squints at me before a heavy exhale leaves her lips. “He snuck in, didn’t he?” Her voice is deadpan and unsurprised.
“Yeah,” I answer instantly.
She chuckles dryly. “Got it.”
“I’m sorry,” I murmur hesitantly, unsure if this whole situation is making her uncomfortable. “I’m sure I can tell him to not come back here if you want.”
Her hands lift, palms facing me, as her eyes widen. “What? No. I’m not going to get in the way of this. I’m just glad I wasn’t here because I almost came in early.”
This time, it’s me who laughs dryly. “Okay, Ker.”
“Don’t okay, Ker me!” She scoffs with a grin. “I really was, but then I forgot to make a coffee, so I had to make a detour to the nearest Dunkin’. It’s not my fault!”
I shush her gently, like I would a crying baby. “I know. I know. You did so great.”
As I stride closer to her, she reaches up and slaps my arm. “I will quit right now if you keep that up.”
“You can’t.” I pout. “I need you tonight.”
She stands up confidently. “I know you do. Now help me finish setting up. The desserts should be here soon.”
We ordered a custom assortment of baked goods from a local bakery that I can’t get enough of. Ker is going to have to hide them from me if we plan on saving any for the clients.
But tonight is just the beginning of a storm of busy chaos because these next few weeks are jam-packed with events, so I’ll get my fair share of desserts.
Jutting a stack of red and pink paper my way, she orders, “Start folding on the dotted lines. I’ll get the tape and string.”
“Aye, aye, captain.” I salute her with a smile.
Tonight’s vibe is a combination of classic and elegant with touches of nostalgic Valentine’s Day decor. Chilled champagne, fancy desserts, twinkling lights, and paper hearts hanging from the ceiling. It’ll all come together perfectly.
After our masked singles party’s success, we’ve had floods of applications coming in, and we are far from being caught up.
I’m beginning to think I’m going to need to hire help because our business is starting to get too big for just Kerrigan and me to manage, especially if we continue to do more and more events.