6. Ash
Olivia became an entirely different person as the first chords reached our ears. Without looking, she grabbed my wrist, tugging my arm and jumping up to sing.
Her hand on my wrist seemed almost involuntary, as though she needed to touch someone to share her excitement, and I just happened to be the closest one.
And it was so unlike anything I’d seen from her.
All around us, the arena lights went blue, swinging wildly across the crowd, outlining Olivia’s body from all angles, only her shape visible.
She pulled down the earmuffs she put on when we entered, surprising me since the volume of the crowd made her antsy before the music started.
The awkward, jerky dancing she did pulled me along with her, and I wondered when she’d realize she still had a death grip on me. Instead of being some immovable mountain, I let her move me, my focus more on her than the music.
During the concert, I only knew a few songs, so my eyes kept straying to Olivia. How long had it been since I had as much fun as she was having? Actually, I’m not sure I ever enjoyed anything as much as she enjoyed this questionable concert.
As the final notes sounded and the lights came on, I decided that even if dad rock wasn’t my style, the night hadn’t been terrible. I might even go so far as to say fun, but only because of the woman beside me. People poured past us, already on their way to the exits, but we stayed in our seats.
A sharp pain shot through my hand, and I looked down to find a hand gripping mine, her phone in her other hand pressed to her ear. Her face, flushed from dancing not thirty seconds ago, went bone white.
“You good, Barnes?”
She didn’t answer, still listening to her phone.
A few more seconds, and she lowered the hand holding her phone. In my hand, her grip went slack, but I didn’t let go.
“Olivia?”
“It’s my dad.” Her eyes went wide, unblinking. The rise and fall of her chest grew too fast, and it grew faster as more people pressed in around us to get past our seats at the end of the aisle. “He—he’s in the hospital. Un—” she paused for air, but her breaths sounded too shallow— “unconscious.”
Some latent protective gene snapped into place inside me, some need to get her out of this, to make sure she wouldn’t get sick or hurt.
There was a crisis, and somehow, I would handle it.
“It’s going to be okay. We’re going to get out of here, and then we’ll figure it out.
” There was too much noise to be sure, but from the expression on her face, and the movement of her lips, Olivia let out a whimper.
“Olivia.” This time, I said her name as more of a command, drawing her attention away from her anxiety, or trying to, but it didn’t work—her chest still rose and fell too quickly, and if her breathing didn’t slow, she’d pass out.
“I’m going to touch you.” I leaned down to speak slowly in her ear, needing to be sure she heard me.
“If that’s not okay, shake your head.” A few seconds passed with no reaction but a blink.
“I’m going to put my hands on your arms and turn you around to face me.
Is this okay?” Again, no response, but she didn’t resist as I moved her closer.
“I’m going to… sort of… hug you, I guess?
You can hide in my jacket if that helps. ”
As slowly as I could move while inching toward the exit, I drew Olivia closer, pressing her face against my chest and wrapping my arms tightly around her, hoping the pressure comforted her.
Thundering heartbeats thrummed against my skin.
This attack nearly paralyzed her. The jerking heaves of her breaths still came in gasping pants, but her fingers gripped the fabric of my shirt at my sides.
Unbidden, my hand slid up her back, cradling the back of her head, slipping into the soft locks of her hair.
And maybe… maybe it shouldn’t have. It became too intimate.
The touch of a lover rather than someone who barely knew her.
But her body noticeably relaxed at the touch, and if she weren’t freaking out to the point of passing out, I would’ve made a joke about getting her close to me.
She would’ve hated it enough to yell again, but with her trembling in my arms like a startled rabbit, I couldn’t do it.
Even bringing it up to needle her later would be wrong.
Hoping I helped somehow, I held her, praying my strength would keep her from shattering, offering her an anchor instead of setting her adrift. Comfort wasn’t in my comfort zone—pun intended—but it was nice, holding her. Touching someone who wasn’t grabbing or demanding.
It must have helped; after a few more minutes of walking her backward through the slow-moving crowd, Olivia let out a shuddering exhale and squirmed, her hands releasing my shirt.
But she didn’t push me away, so I didn’t let go as she fumbled to cover her ears.
Every movement turned to slow motion; the brush of her chin against my sternum as she tipped her head down, the shape of her hands as she covered her ears.
But I didn’t let myself think any more about how it felt to hold her, how the top of her head tucked neatly beneath my chin or the citrusy scent of her shampoo.
Reluctance kept my arms in place, and for all her irritation with me before, she still kept me close as she could without wrapping around me. But I didn’t mind. All the curves of her body were heavenly soft and giving beneath my tight grip.
If the protective instinct from earlier was unexpected, suddenly having this intense rush of… wanting was worse.
Instinct was one thing; I could work with instinct. But… this… I didn’t know what to do with it, other than keep her safe.
I held her tighter, keeping her inside the protective bubble of my arms. No matter how much I’d enjoyed teasing her, drawing out her reactions, this was better. Deeper. But I didn’t know how to draw her out and still distract her from the mess of Ash Wilder.
And then I realized I liked this girl. Wanted to protect her in a way I never thought I’d experience. This was new and wonderful and terrifying.
It sent shocks of ice and heat simultaneously coursing through me.
Ignoring the revelation, I debated barreling through the people blocking our way until I had her out in the cold, fresh air and she could breathe again. Feeling her trembling body ignited something I never considered myself capable of.
Aggression? Sure. It was my job to be aggressive on the ice. Creative and calculating? Absolutely. I had to find pockets to move the puck while avoiding taking a beating. Or taking a beating so someone else could score.
But protective? Gentle? Caring ?
I was known for not caring.
Distract, deflect. Pretend you have the puck when in reality you shot it across the ice a second earlier.
Another whimper, felt more than heard, slipped out of her mouth.
“Ah, shit, Barnes.” I didn’t realize how frightened she still was, so I lowered my voice, leaning down closer to her ear. “We’re going to get out.”
We’d cleared the inner door, and the added space allowed the crowd to thin out. But I figured it was probably best to get her fully outside into the open air, so I kept her in the circle of my arms.
“But what if we don’t?” Panic-tinged and high-pitched, her panic constricted her voice to a small sound. “What if we’re trampled? Or the floor collapses from all the people, or there’s a fire, or?—”
“Well, the good news is there’s no fire.”
“That’s not helpful.”
“How about this—” I shoved open a glass door, letting cold air rush around us, instantly chilling all the places Olivia wasn’t touching. When I leaned down to whisper in her ear this time, I let every seduction I’d ever performed into my words, heating them to a smolder as I said, “We’re outside.”
Olivia pushed away, removing herself from my space entirely. I found myself missing the contact, tugging my jacket closed to hide how much I wanted to pull her back. It was so cold our breath steamed the air, hanging between us like the sudden tension as Olivia put at least a yard between us.
In reality, it probably took less than ten minutes to get outside, but something inside me altered irrevocably. All because of this woman with her neon makeup and fishnets.
“Thanks,” she said, staring at her shoes. “For… helping.”
With my hands bereft at the loss of her between them, I spun the ring on my middle finger, sliding it up to my first knuckle and back. “It’s nothing.” It was not nothing. Everything shifted; my entire world just reoriented itself, and she had no clue.
“Ash.” Stormy blue eyes met mine for the length of a lightning flash, electricity zinging across my nerves like she was the lightning. It was too much, so I looked away. “You talked me out of a panic attack. It’s a huge deal. Nobody else—” Her voice caught in her throat.
Nobody else—what—took care of her? Knew how to work through a panic attack because they’d been through their own? In my younger days, I struggled with them. Panic attacks weren’t new.
But I kept my fraught history to myself. Instead, I said, “Let’s get to the car, then we’ll figure this out.”
The color returning to her face drained away again in an instant.
“Shit, fuck , I have to get to the hospital.”
With my hands no longer keeping her steady, they needed something to do, so I took off the hat and adjusted it, then removed it again, rolling the fabric between my fingers.
“It’s my dad,” Olivia offered without my asking once we settled in the darkened interior of the car. “He—he—I’m not sure what happened. I heard emergency room and blacked out, but I need to go. Now.”
“Whoa, okay.” Every instinct screamed to reach out and comfort her again. Easing across the space between our seats, I sat beside her, close enough to touch if she wanted to reach out, though I left the choice up to her. “Which hospital? I’ll take you. We can go now.”
A shuddering gasp escaped her, and the whites of her eyes glowed as they widened, her pupils turning to pinpricks in an instant. “R—Raleigh.”
“North Carolina?” There was no driving to North Carolina.
With jerky movements, she nodded, then tied her hair up into a ponytail, scraping her long reddish-brown locks back so tightly it must’ve hurt. Something sharpened, the prickliness of our first meeting slipping back in place. The change startled in its immediate severity.
“Right. Okay.” Gone were the tremors and sawing inhales. “I need to check flights. Shit, I have to go home first. Wait, do I though?”
Did she forget I was in the car, too? “Breathe, Barnes. Can I help?”
“Yes.”
I began to speak, but she wasn’t talking to me. “Need a suitcase. Not sure how long I’ll stay.” All this muttered while she scrolled frantically, presumably clawing through airline websites.
An idea came to me, so I pulled out my phone. A quick look at my schedule, a short search, and a text message confirmed.
“No, no, no,” Olivia chanted. “Fuck, I can’t get there until—ugh—I can’t even think.”
“I can help.”
A wave of her hand dismissed me. “No, you can’t.
” Her scoff and the way she ignored me since she got the call stung, but I understood.
If something happened to Nana, I’d charter a plane to get there in a heartbeat.
But I also remembered days when doing so wouldn’t have been an option financially. I’d be freaking out, too.
“I can. Look.” I held out my phone, open to the latest text thread with Coach Olson.
Finally, she looked up from her phone, her glacier eyes lit by the glow from our screens. “What? What is this?”
“We’re flying to D.C. Early tomorrow morning. I know it’s not perfect, but you can drive from there to Raleigh. It’s about a four-hour drive, and you won’t have to deal with the airport.”
Frenetic energy rolled off her in waves as she processed what I said. The blankness in her eyes disappeared, replaced with laser focus. Again, the shift was abrupt and startling. I might’ve enjoyed being the subject of such intense attention from her if we weren’t in the midst of another crisis.
“When you say we…” One corner of her mouth tensed.
“I’m flying out on a private plane with the rest of the team. The hockey team I play for. The Knights.”
A very distinctive “ew” look crossed her face, though she didn’t say it. Gears spun in her brain.
“And you’re sure it’s okay for me to go with… the team?”
“Coach said yes.” His allowance of my unusual request was a surprise, but he had daughters of his own. He understood.
“I barely know you, so I need you to know I wouldn’t accept this offer if it weren’t for my dad.”
“Understandable.”
A huge breath escaped her lips as she sank back into the white leather seat. “Fuuuck, this has been the longest day.”
It really fucking was. “We should probably get home since we’ve got such an early start. It’s going to be okay.”