Chapter 29
twenty-nine
. . .
Ceci
Aidan pulls me into his arms. I’m breathing hard, trembling from adrenaline, but the safety of his touch soothes me. Steadies me.
Wish has always steadied me. He knows how to calm me down, how to get me to focus. And now Aidan is.
The solid planes of his body feel so good against me. Our breaths mingle, the air between us humid in a way that has nothing to do with the showers around us.
His thumb traces over the bow of my lip. “I’m going to kiss you now.”
Fucking finally.
And when his mouth crashes into mine, his grip on my hip tightening almost painfully, I almost cry. He tastes like hope, like home.
I rove my hands over his and up his arms to lock behind his neck, pulling him into me until we’re flush together. He slides one of his from my hip to the small of my back, tightening his hold on me.
There’s so much to figure out. Who we tell, when we tell them. Do we have to declare anything with the team?
However, I can’t think about any of that right now. Not with his lips on mine, his tongue sweeping into my mouth to tangle with my own, heat ramping up between us.
Stepping forward, I push him against the shower wall, and he suddenly spins us so my back crashes into the tiles. I let out a small oomph at the impact, but it doesn’t hurt.
The cold does, though.
Icy water streams down on us, pelting us with a frigid blast. In approximately twelve seconds, I’m completely drenched. I squeal, and Aidan pulls me away from the spray, out of range of the showerhead, but I’m already soaked from head to toe.
So is he.
His waterlogged clothes cling to his muscular torso and abs, and even though we’re both shivering, I can’t take my eyes off him. His hungry gaze drifts over me, drinking me in.
A beat passes.
And then we crash into each other again. My hands dive into his hair, threading through the thick, wet red strands. His body heat radiates through me, warming me up.
I can’t get enough. I press closer, closer, closer, until we’re plastered together and I can feel his chest rise and fall with each breath.
“MacGregor, are you—Oh.” The voice cuts off abruptly.
We spring apart, breathing hard, and Aidan tucks me behind him, protecting me.
“Sinclair.” His voice comes out rough, and he clears his throat. “Can I help you?”
His teammate shakes his head. “This is a players-only area. You know the rules.”
I open my mouth to make my excuses, but Aidan’s hand squeezes my hip. “We’ll be right out.”
Sinclair sighs. “The dressing room is still full.”
“I guess people are going to know, then,” he says. “I don’t want to hide.”
“I’ll get you two something to dry off.” The hockey player disappears down the hallway, then comes back with a few folded towels.
“You’re okay?” His eyes bore into me. We’ve never talked. Why would we? Even though he’s attached to the helmet project, I don’t talk to the players. That’s Bex’s domain.
Still, it’s touching that he cares. That he’s making a point to address me.
“I’m good. Thank you for checking in.” My voice comes out steady. A small miracle.
Aidan wraps a towel around me, then takes another and gathers my hair into his fist. He squeezes to remove some of the moisture, then glides the towel over my hair, taking care as he dries me off. His touch is tender, gentle, and I lean into him, craving the contact. The connection.
Sinclair lingers in the threshold, shuffling his feet. “I guess I’ll, uh, just… go?” His footsteps echo as they slap over the slippery tile during his hasty retreat.
I huff out a breath of laughter. “I guess they’re all going to know now.”
Aidan tucks a damp strand of hair behind my ear. “I don’t want to hide,” he repeats.
“Then we won’t.”
I touch my lips to his in a sweet kiss before a shiver racks through my body and my mouth slides off his.
“Let’s warm you up,” he says, rubbing my upper arms.
My teeth chatter as I huddle into my towel. “How are you not cold?”
“I practically live on the ice.”
His wry chuckle makes me smile. “There is that.”
“Come on. I’ll get you something to wear.”
“As long as it’s dry, I don’t care.”
His hand slips down to hold mine, and I follow him from the showers to the dressing room. Seven or eight hockey players stand around in various stages of undress, and as we enter the room, all conversation dies.
“What the hell?” Jenkins says. He’s shirtless, but his muscles don’t interest me. “You snuck in a babe? I didn’t think we could do that.”
“Fuck off,” Aidan growls. And whew, his snarl does something to me.
“You work on the helmets,” Easton says.
“Hi. I’m Ceci.” I wave awkwardly. “We’re, uh…”
“We’re together,” Aidan cuts in.
I’ve met most of the guys, but that doesn’t mean they remember me. As a board member, I’m essentially anonymous.
“Damn,” Jenkins says with a low whistle. “She’s a fucking smokeshow, Cap.”
“Fuck off,” he barks again. “Don’t fucking talk about her like she’s not here.”
“I don’t mind being called a smokeshow.” I lean up and peck his cheek, then whisper in his ear. “As long as you know it too.”
“You know I do.” Aidan’s hand tightens on mine, and before I know what’s happening, he’s kissing me again in front of his teammates. His hand dives into my hair, curling around my nape.
No hesitation. No uncertainty. Just pure, unadulterated confidence. He owns me in one simple touch.
It’s sexy as fuck. A shiver runs through me again, and this time it has nothing to do with the cold.
He doesn’t seem to realize that, though, because he pulls back and leads me to a wooden cubby with his name and number on the nameplate.
A stack of folded clothes sits on the top shelf. He pulls a T-shirt and sweats from the pile.
“I don’t know how well these will fit. But at least they’re dry.”
Still holding the towel around me, I take the clothes. They’re both sporting his name and number. I imagine his reaction to my being branded with it, and goose bumps rise on my skin.
Yeah, I think he’s going to like that.
“Let me find you a place to change.”
“I can figure it out.” Unable to help myself, I kiss him quick. “Come to my office when you’re done here.”
“You got it.” He tugs me into his arms again, heedless of our audience, and kisses me slow and deep.
When he finally pulls back, it takes a second for my brain to come back online and my eyes to uncross. Wolf whistles erupt in the room, and my face floods with heat.
“Fuck off,” Aidan snaps at his teammates.
“We’re just happy for you,” Ryan says.
His best friend.
His future brother-in-law.
Shit. I guess Hailey is definitely about to find out. Will she approve of us as more than a simple hookup?
“Leave him alone.” I step in front of him, ready to defend him to the death. I don’t want to fight his friends and teammates, but I will if I have to.
Aidan’s low chuckle warms my blood, and as he wraps his arms around me from behind, my face flushes. “There’s only room in this relationship for one instigator, babe.”
At that, Ryan laughs. “Please. If anyone is about to start a rumble, it will definitely be her. You’re not exactly a fighter, dude.”
I open my mouth—to defend me, to defend him—but Aidan simply laughs.
“I pick my battles,” he says. “And she’s worth fighting for.”
Just like that, I melt, everything in me relaxing. I turn in the circle of his arms to face him, then thread my arms around his neck.
“You mean that?”
He nudges his nose against mine. “Yeah, babe. I do.”
Unable to help myself, I kiss him, pressing my body flush against his. It’s only when his teammates erupt into rowdy catcalls that I pull myself away.
“I’ll see you later,” I promise.
“Counting on it.” The small, private smile he gives me floods my entire body with a heady warmth.
If I don’t leave right this second, I never will.
Turning on my heel, head held high, I stride out of the room and to the nearest bathroom. I lock myself in a stall, dry off as best as I can, and finally change out of my sodden clothes.
As predicted, Aidan’s shirt hangs off me like a dress, and I have to roll the band of the sweatpants four times before they stay up.
I can’t deny that I like seeing his number on me. Wearing his name on my back. It’s like he’s claiming me. Owning me.
Bex looks up from her computer as I enter our shared office. Her mouth drops open, and I shake my head.
“Don’t say it.”
“But—”
“Nope. Not discussing it.” I sit at my desk, pulling the monitors in front of me to block her smug face. With a few short clicks, I turn on my favorite ’90s girl-power playlist, flooding the room with Spice Girls at a volume too loud for conversation.
My inbox is flooded with emails. I glance over them, scanning for anything critical, when a message from Colt catches my eye. It’s a calendar invite for seven o’clock on Friday, a few weeks from now.
Dinner +3, the invitation reads.
My heart skips a beat. He’s putting his money where his mouth is, trying to find his happiness. Maybe things with Robby won’t work out. Maybe they will. Either way, all I want is for my friend to be happy. To find the kind of easy friendship I’ve found with Aidan.
Being in a relationship won’t magically fix me.
I’m still the same imperfect person I’ve always been.
Now I simply have someone in my life who supports me unconditionally, who wants me by his side, not only in his bed.
Who likes me for more than my money and what it can do for him.
Whatever we become, I know it’s because of our solid foundation that we’ll be able to go the distance.
And if Colt has found the same in Robby, or even the possibility of it, I would empty my bank accounts to support their relationship.
I pull up the team’s schedule, trying to find a date that will work, then text Aidan.
Are you free on the 22nd for a double date?
His reply comes almost immediately. For you, I’m always free.
I laugh because that’s definitely not true. He’s got commitments up the wazoo. But I appreciate the sentiment.
Replying to Colt, I tell him dinner will need to be for four people, then close out of my inbox.