Chapter Twenty-Six Only See You
HADLEY
Grace leads us through the press entrance after the game, bypassing the main crowd.
The noise fades as we move deeper into the building.
As we pass a set of seemingly empty offices, I’m barely paying attention to my surroundings, so I don’t see the hand reaching for me until it’s wrapped around my arm.
I’m pulled sideways through a door before I can fully process what’s going on. The door shuts behind me, and I whirl around to face whoever’s grabbed me.
“What the hell…?” My words fade when I meet Julian’s wild gaze.
He’s breathing hard, still in his skates and gear, and with his damp hair and dark eyes, I’m momentarily reminded of a ferocious grizzly bear.
He’s pushed me into what is clearly an empty meeting room just down the hall from the locker room.
“Julian,” I gasp, my heart racing so fast it feels like a trapped bird against my ribs. “What are you doing? What if someone walks in…”
“Hadley.”
His gravelly voice cuts straight through my panicked ramble.
Julian steps even closer, trapping me between his massive frame and the solid wood of the door at my back.
“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he growls, cutting me off. His tone is low and rough. It sends a shiver up my spine.
My voice is shaky. “What do you mean?”
He steps closer, closing the space between us.
“That jersey,” he hisses. “Seeing you in it…”
He exhales sharply, scrubbing a hand over his mouth.
“It’s driving me insane.”
A small whimper slips past my lips.
“Julian…”
Julian lets out a low, rough growl, and before I realize what he’s doing, he drops his head, burying his face into the crook of my neck.
The heavy, searing heat of his skin against my bare collarbone makes my entire body shudder.
His damp curls brush against my jaw, and he breathes me in, his broad shoulders shaking.
“I’ve been trying to ignore it,” he continues as if I hadn’t spoken. “Trying to play, to focus, and all I can think about is you.”
His head lifts for a moment, gaze sweeping over my body.
I feel his eyes like a caress. A sudden, heavy wave of heat pools deep between my thighs, pulsing with a sharp ache that makes me involuntarily press my legs together.
I don't even fully understand what my body is doing, but it feels like a fuse has been lit deep inside me. He snaps his eyes back to mine.
He doesn’t say anything. Just stands there, crowding me against the door. As he looks down at his gold number eighteen stretched across my frame, I see the raw, untamed hunger flashing in his gaze.
The sheer intensity of it should terrify me.
Instead, the heavy, pooling heat between my thighs only deepens.
I feel the rigid grasp of his large hands soften against my shoulders, his calloused thumbs trembling against my skin as if he’s fighting the urge to break his own restraint.
This is my chance to let him know I want him the way he wants me.
“You want me?” I whisper. My voice is small, but it doesn't waver.
Julian freezes. He pauses, his entire massive frame locking up as he stares down at me, his mouth parting in stunned silence.
“Take me,” I breathe.
Julian lets out a sharp, ragged sound, his control shattering right before my eyes.
He moves before I register what’s happening.
His hand comes up to my jaw, steadying me as his mouth crashes down onto mine.
The kiss is intense and bruising. His tongue invades my mouth, tangling with mine, and stealing all sense of reason and decorum from my head.
I grip his jersey, pulling him closer until we’re pressed flush against each other.
The feel of his big, hard body against mine has my pussy flooding my panties, and I start to ache so badly between my legs, I want nothing more than to grind myself against him to relieve the pressure.
I’ve never experienced anything like this before. Not just being kissed, but with such an all-consuming, mind-numbing intensity. I’ve never felt this type of burning lust before, and it’s both overwhelming and intoxicating.
It feels so good…so right…
I lean into him, into the heat and the pressure and the way he feels like he’s barely holding himself back. A small moan escapes me before I can stop it. It’s soft and desperate, barely anything really, but it seems to snap Julian back to reality.
He freezes, then jerks back like he’s been burned.
The sudden loss of his body leaves me cold and filled with a yearning to get him back. I reach out to him, but he moves further away.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, shaking his head.
I blink, still pulling myself out of the haze. “What?”
“I can’t,” he continues. “I shouldn’t have…”
Panic seizes me. “Julian…”
“You’re the coach’s granddaughter,” he interrupts. “You’re young. Too…”
He pauses a moment, then grits his teeth and drops his gaze.
“Too good for this,” he finishes, sounding defeated.
“Do you mean for you?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer. He just looks down at me, his dark eyes clouded with a heavy, brooding misery that makes my chest ache.
I stand there, completely stunned, my lips still tingling and hot from the reckless, desperate way he just kissed me.
Every instinct in my body screams at me to grab the front of his shirt and force his lips back down to mine.
I want to shatter whatever dark, self-destructive wall he’s building between us.
I want to tell him that he doesn't get to decide what I'm "too good" for.
Yet, as I look at the rigid, defensive set of his broad shoulders, a sudden wave of indecision paralyzes me.
If I push him too hard right now, will he completely snap shut? If I demand answers while his adrenaline is still spiked from the game and his blood is still hot from the kiss, will I just scare him back into his shell for good?
I swallow the lump in my throat, my hands hovering uncertainly in the small, charged space between our chests. I can't let him pretend this didn't happen, but I have to tread so, so carefully.
“That’s not your call,” I insist, stepping forward and grabbing his shirt again before he can move away.
His eyes flick down to my hands. He doesn’t try to escape my grip. I know he easily could.
“You don’t want me,” he whispers. “Not really.”
His words stun me, and for a moment, I can only stare at him.
“I do!” I finally say with more conviction than I think I’ve ever felt before.
“No,” he shakes his head. “You think you do now, but you’ll come to your senses and leave.”
I stare up at him in disbelief. What is he talking about? How can he think that?
“I only want you,” I declare, my grip on his shirt tightening. “I only see you.”
He hesitates for a second, as if wanting to believe that but at the last minute, refusing to.
“I’m sorry,” he mutters before stepping back again.
I don’t want to let him go, but I don’t have a choice.
As much as I want to make him face this with me, I know if I push him now, I may push him away for good.
Without looking at me, he moves past me toward the door.
I don’t watch him go and only listen as the door opens and shuts behind me, leaving me alone with nothing but my heavy heart and the lingering taste of him on my lips.