Chapter 9 #3
I’d long since lost trust in my own feelings, confusing what I’d thought I wanted with a much uglier reality. Shutting myself down to prevent losing more of my thin grasp on happiness had been my main goal, ignoring the pain and fear that still threatened to sweep me into a horrible abyss.
What I hadn’t wanted was to feel any need to care about another soul.
But the moment he recoiled as if he’d been punched in the face, I’d caught a slight glimpse of the man inside, the one without the bullshit bravado and cocky arrogance that the girls loved and the press and naysayers loved to hate.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he barked out. Everything with him was a battle, but my reactions were also easily pegged.
He could drive me crazier than almost anyone. The flow of current was doubled from what it had been before the stupid kiss, which almost made me regret being here. “I can help.”
His laugh was loud and annoying, but it was the look on his face that angered me. “You can’t help me. What do you think you can honestly do at this point, huh? You don’t even know a thing about hockey. And obviously nothing about shifters.”
Well, fuck. I deserved that.
“Yeah, you’re right. I don’t know much of anything, but I’m a quick learner and I’m very observant. What I know is that you honestly believe if you lose this game, you are finished and guess what, you’ve sold that shitty attitude to enough people ready to crucify you.”
He dared try to push me away, but this time, I wasn’t going to allow it to happen. I stepped in front of him for a change, crowding his space instead of the other way around.
“I’m not finished yet,” I barked, ready to launch into him. “You’re so damn hardheaded and set in your ways that you’re forgetting all about the love of the game, the reason you took your first steps in this world on the ice then refused to leave it for anything else.”
I sensed I’d crossed some invisible line, but by instinct, I rose onto my tiptoes and placed my index finger over his lips, softening my voice.
“I’m still not finished. You love hockey. You told me yourself it’s in your blood and I believe that. But without you letting go, shoving aside all the pressure you have to succeed, you won’t play your best. Now, let me help you remember. Okay?”
“I tell you what, Georgia. I’ll make you a deal. I’ll let you help if you’ll agree to have a drink with me after the game is finished. My choice if I win. Yours if I don’t.”
“Wait. Hold on. You’re leveraging a date for me trying to help you relax?”
There was that cocky look of his again, but he shrugged as if no big deal. “Just a drink. Nothing special. I figure maybe you’d like to see another side of me.”
Those same eyes searched mine, certain there was incoming admonishment. Or at least for me to laugh in his face or refuse the offer. Why was it that instead of shutting him down instantly, I was allowing him to think I was interested?
I didn’t say a word, taking him by the hand and pulling him away from everyone else into the hallway leading to the showers where I pushed him face first against the wall.
He exuded heat, his body remaining stiff as he tipped his head over his shoulder. I was certain he would object, but when I rolled the flat of my hands along the small of his back, he took a deep breath and held the air in his lungs.
With all the noise around us, the echoing of my raging heart was drowned out, but I could feel the savage thudding in my chest. As I crawled my fingers along his spine, he closed his eyes. Once he rested his head against the wall, I could sense some of the tension fading.
I’d heard the expression about there being no one else in a crowded room before, but never had understood what it meant. Until now. I concentrated on him, massaging his shoulders and arms, hoping to relieve a few kinks.
“Have you ever wanted something so badly that nothing else in life mattered?” The question came from nowhere, a quiet moment shared between two people who barely knew each other.
“A long time ago,” I admitted and instantly I wasn’t certain why. Opening up to anyone about myself had proven to be dangerous and doing so always resulted in questions.
Yet he didn’t ask, allowing me my privacy if only for a little while longer.
I doubted he was the kind of man to truly let go very often, except when he was on the ice.
Before long, I heard a whistle and his eyes popped open. He turned around, a more serene look on his face than before.
“You’re going to go out on that ice and you’re going to glide like a rockstar and make two goals. One right after the other. Do you understand?”
His upper lip curled and I was certain he’d regained his usual cocky persona, eager to tweak my nerves. When he saluted instead, I was amused. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll do my best.”
So many aspects of my life were laced with regret, but I hoped this wasn’t going to be another one of them.
Without overthinking anything, I pressed my hand on his naked chest, once again lifting onto my tiptoes as I leaned in. And without hesitation, I did the unthinkable.
I kissed him.