Chapter 28
twenty-eight
. . .
Aidan
There’s a spring in my step and a whistle on my lips as I enter the practice facility. I didn’t want to say goodbye to Ceci this morning, but she has an early Pilates class, and I have a skate and then film review. If I had it my way, we would stay in bed all day.
She likes me. She really, really likes me.
“Oh, shut up,” Ryan mutters good-naturedly as I take my spot at my cubby. “You’re extraordinarily happy today. Date went well?”
I press my lips together as I consider how to answer. We didn’t talk about what we’d say, only that Hailey would eventually find out we’re more than acquaintances. Just because she thinks we should sleep together doesn’t mean she approves of us being together.
A relationship. A real, actual relationship. I didn’t think I’d be able to do this again, but when I think of Ceci, of Annie, I’m excited. I want this.
“It wasn’t bad,” I finally tell him. Playing it cool seems like a solid idea.
“Think you’re going to see her again?”
My heart skips a beat. “Yeah. I’d like to.”
“No shit?”
“For real.”
My best friend breaks into a huge grin. “That’s great, Aid. I’m happy you finally found someone.”
“Okay, don’t get carried away. It was one date.” One spectacular date, followed by an even better evening, then waking up tangled together…
Yeah, I could get used to this.
On my other side, Gonzo perks up. “You went on a date? How did it go?”
All chatter in the room stops. Sinclair even turns off the radio, and what feels like the entire twenty-two-man roster stares at me, waiting for details.
Heat rises to my cheeks, spreading down my neck and over my bare chest. Fuck, being a redhead fucking sucks sometimes.
I clear my throat, but the words die on my lips.
“Did you get laid?” Jenkins asks. “Our celibate captain finally getting some?”
“Fuck off, I’m not celibate.”
“You never come out with us,” he counters. “When was the last time you actually took someone home?”
“Too long,” Ryan mutters.
I glare at him. “Fuck off.”
The traitor rolls his eyes. “I’m just saying, man, it was time to get back on the horse. Why do you think Hailey’s been setting you up? She wants to see you happy.”
“I’m plenty happy.”
I’ve got hockey, baseball season is starting up soon, my sister is awesome, and Annie…
“You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?” Sinclair says with a grin. “Look at that dopey fucking grin. You like her.”
“Shut up.” I ball up my T-shirt and toss it at him, but he dodges the fabric weapon.
“Seriously, Cap,” Gonzo says. “If you’ve found a little happiness, that should be celebrated. You should enjoy it.”
“I am.”
“Good. So when do we get to meet her?” His expectant grin stretches from ear to ear.
“Ha. Never.”
Ryan frowns. “Really?”
“Come on. We went on one date. I’m not about to propose anytime soon,” I protest. Maybe not ever, since that’s not something she’s interested in. “I thought Hailey would have said who she set me up with.”
“Only that it’s one of her friends. I want to meet her. We can go on double dates.”
“How about you let us go on a second date before we start making any more plans.”
He laughs. “Deal.”
Jenkins turns the stereo back on, blasting the room with pop-punk music.
We hit the ice, and Coach breaks us into a scrimmage before he runs us through penalty kill and power play drills. When we’re finally done for the day, sweaty and tired, there’s a lightness deep within me.
Ceci. Intimacy. Hockey. The unconditional support of my teammates. That’s all I need to be happy.
Okay, and baseball too.
It’s hard to concentrate on film review. Coach McKittrick walks us through the lethal Atlanta defense, then shows us their elite power forwards. It’s easy to be intimidated by how intense the powerhouse team is. There’s a reason they’re ranked at the top of the leaderboard this season.
And they’re coming for us.
The room swells with noise, the intensity ratcheting up ten thousand decibels.
My eardrums throb, and my hands shake, and I swallow, but I can’t quite get my throat to work.
Out comes a weird snort-sputter sound, drawing attention to me.
Heat rises to my face, and I hunch lower in my seat.
Maybe if I pretend I’m invisible, they won’t be able to see me.
“You good, man?” Ryan mutters beside me.
“’M fine,” I reply.
At the front of the room, McKittrick has his laser pointer aimed at the screen, but the red light burns my eyes so much I wouldn’t be surprised if there was steam rising in the back of my eyelids.
Even blinking a few times doesn’t clear it.
I can hear the buzz of the laser and smell the sound of my teammates talking and taste the musty, musky scent of sweat that permeates every square inch of this practice facility.
Overstimulated.
My eyelids flutter shut, just for a moment, and I try to recalibrate, but my system doesn’t want to reset. I rub my clammy palms on my tech-dry shorts, and the static-ridden fabric shocks me. Hissing between my teeth, I shake out my hand.
I need to get out of here.
Making eye contact with Coach, I jerk my thumb toward the exit, and even though he frowns, he nods. I jump out of my seat and stride to the exit. Let them think it’s a bathroom emergency. Let them think—I don’t care what they think. I’m crawling out of my skin. Nothing else matters in this moment.
The hallway is three paces wide and ten long. I trace the path back and forth, back and forth, but even that isn’t enough to settle me.
Water. That will help.
The lounge isn’t far, and I count my strides as I navigate through the hallways. Nineteen, twenty, twenty-one… I open the door to the team lounge and stop short.
Ceci.
She’s here.
My brown-haired beauty sits at a table with Dr. Whitney, Vanessa, our logistics coordinator, and Amelia, our PT. As I stand in the doorway, watching like a creep, she throws her head back and laughs, her chocolatey waves rippling down her back.
The other three women are giggling too. She has friends. Good. She should have friends. I like that she’s connected to my colleagues—that she has a reason to spend time here aside from her position on the board.
“Hi, Aidan,” Vanessa calls, half rising out of her seat. “Can we help you with something?”
I shake my head, the words getting lost in my throat. Silently, I walk past their table to the fridge, pulling out a blue-raspberry electrolyte drink, cracking the top, and guzzling down half the bottle in one gulp.
My nerves are still frayed, but my hands have stopped shaking, and I finally don’t feel like I’m about to crawl out of my skin.
I blow out a breath. From this angle, I have a clear view of Ceci, and her eyes are on her harvest bowl. No matter how much I stare at her, silently begging her to look up, she avoids my gaze.
Vanessa says my name again. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
I’m always fine.
When I walk past the table, the scent of her perfume short-circuits my brain, and I take a gasping breath as I pass, committing it to memory.
It takes another few turns pacing the halls, but I finally feel steady enough to return to film review. A few guys turn to look at me as I enter the room, but I ignore them as I retake my seat and focus my attention on the projector.
Half an hour later, we’re set free. Some guys grab lunch, others head for treatment, but I’m scheduled for a helmet fitting with Dr. Whitney, so I head to the lab and knock on the open door.
“Come in,” the redhead calls. “I’m almost done.”
She’s at her desk, typing on her computer. Across the room, Ceci’s computer is plugged in, but she’s nowhere to be found.
It takes Dr. Whitney a few minutes to finish what she’s working on, and then she moves her monitor to the side and looks at me.
“Hi. I wanted to check in, see how the helmet’s fitting. Any complaints?”
“It’s a little… itchy.”
“Itchy?” she repeats.
I don’t know how to explain it. “The protective fabric doesn’t feel very good. I don’t like it.”
“Hmm.” She jots down some notes. “Aside from that, does it feel like any other helmet you’ve worn?”
I nod. “Now, if you could find a way to keep the visor from fogging up, you’d be in business.”
“Noted. What would you like us to change?”
“If you could—”
Ceci walks into the room, attention on her phone, and I cut myself off. She’s so fucking gorgeous, dressed in slacks and a silky blouse, pointy heels, and that fuck-me berry-red lipstick I can’t stop dreaming of.
She looks up.
Our eyes connect.
A beat passes between us. My heart tries to leap out of my chest and fuse itself to hers. I want to cross the room and pull her into my arms. To take her, to claim her in front of her friend. In front of everyone.
Guilt creases her face.
And then she looks away.
Brutal.
My stomach sinks, and I try to force my gaze away; I need to, but I can’t stop staring at her. What I would give to see those kiss-stung lips stretched wide around my cock. My traitorous dick twitches as all the blood in my body rushes south, and my mouth goes dry, and—fuck, what was I saying?
“Aidan?” Dr. Whitney prompts.
“Uh…”
“If I could what?”
“I don’t know,” I blurt. “I’ve got to go.”
“But—”
Before she can get her words out, I rise to my feet and rush from the room. I jog down the hallway and back to the safety of the dressing room. A few teammates call out to me, but I ignore them all.
I step into the empty shower room fully clothed. Water sloshes beneath the soles of my sneakers as I find the far stall, the very last one in the row. My favorite.
Leaning against the tiled wall, I scrub my hands over my face.
Why, why, why?
Why am I such a fucking idiot around her? Why did I let myself get so fucking invested? Why does she have so much power over me?
Footsteps echo off the tiled floor, and I squeeze my eyes shut. If I can’t see them, they can’t see me. I’m invisible again.
“Aidan?”
Ceci.
Fuck.
My eyes fly open. She’s not supposed to be here. This is a players-only space. Even the coaches can’t come into the showers.
The tap, tap, tap of her stilettos is amplified by the tiles. She stops a good foot in front of me, looking up at me expectantly.
“Are you okay?”
No, I’m not fucking okay. Did I read too much into this? Are we not on the same page?
We discussed this last night: dating. An exclusive, committed, monogamous relationship.
But we didn’t talk about what that would look like in front of people. I’m ready to tell the whole world. She evidently is not.
I pull in a ragged breath, then another.
“I can’t do this,” I croak.
Hurt creases her face. “Can’t do what?”
“What are we?”
“We’re… dating. Aren’t we?” Staring at me, she cocks her head. Confusion creases her face. “We decided this last night.”
I want to kiss away her frown. Assure her everything will be okay. But right now, I’m the one who needs the validation. And I honestly don’t know if everything will work itself out.
Is she embarrassed to be seen with me? Ashamed of slumming it with me? Regretting what we did? Whatever the problem is, we can tackle it together. I hope.
“Then why won’t you look at me?”
I’m so caught up in the maelstrom of my self-pity, I barely register her sharp inhalation. It’s my turn to avoid eye contact. It’s something I’ve had to train myself into tolerating over the years so I can mask and blend in, but right now, it’s too much. Too intense.
She has the power to destroy me, and she doesn’t even know.
“You want to know why?” Her hands fly to her hips. “If I look at you, I’m going to want to kiss you. And I don’t know if you want that. Not in front of everyone else.”
“Annie.” My voice breaks. I step forward, reaching for her. My hands land on her waist, and I pull her into me. “I never want you to stop.”
Ceci melts in my arms, her body swaying into mine. “Then what are you waiting for?”