24. Sienna
SIENNA
It’s been days, and I’m still thinking about that kiss.
Every day since, Calvin has been in my messages. He hasn’t been at my front door, though, which I’m both relieved and slightly disappointed about.
I was hoping that kiss might put an end to the chemistry that’s been crackling between us. I fear it’s done the opposite.
A couple of times now, I’ve caught myself touching my lips, remembering the way they tingled when we parted.
It’s ridiculous. He’s a hockey player. A fuckboy. I should not be obsessing over him.
And yet, when he told me that he didn’t just want one night with me, that he actually wanted to date me, well…Damn it, I believe him.
It’s stupid, and naive, and I’m going to regret it, but…I’m buzzing at the idea of date number two.
Every time his stupid name pops up on my screen, a little fizz of excitement explodes within me, thinking that it’ll be about our next date.
But it hasn’t been, and I can’t help but think that maybe it was silly of me to believe him.
I’m leaving town tomorrow to spend Thanksgiving with my parents, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to see him before I left.
“Is everything alright?” Bea asks as she joins me at the reception desk in the salon.
I force a smile on my face. “Yeah, why?”
She frowns, seeing right through it.
“What did he do?” she asks, looking ready to go and rip Calvin a new one.
“Nothing,” I say in a rush. “He hasn’t done anything.” And that’s the freaking problem.
He left me with the promise of something, and now I’m just hanging around, waiting for it to happen, like one of those annoying girls who needs a man to be happy.
I am not one of those girls.
“I’m just thinking about everything I need to do before I go tomorrow.”
“Then go home and do it,” Bea suggests.
“I just need to schedule some social media posts, finish off this week’s newsletter, and then I’m leaving.”
“Sienna,” she warns.
“It’ll take me like thirty minutes, tops.”
She raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment. Thankfully, her next client chooses that moment to stroll through the door, saving me from a lecture.
Unsurprisingly, I’m still sitting in exactly the same place when Bea returns, her client smiling and gazing down at her new set of nails.
“So much for half an hour,” Bea mutters as she takes her lady’s payment.
“I’m almost done,” I assure her. Honestly, with social media, it’s never almost done.
There’s always another video that could be filmed, and more interaction to be done.
It’s endless and exhausting. But it’s totally worth it when we get a new client call and see that they saw our posts and want to book.
Although now would probably be a good time to cool off on it, considering our waitlist. But I don’t want to.
It makes me want to push harder, to prove to Bea that my expansion ideas aren’t crazy, and that we could actually do it.
Finally, I hit the schedule button on our newsletter, and I hop off the stool I’m sitting on. Bea turns her narrowed eyes to me, and I hold my hands up in defeat.
“I’m going. I’m going,” I say as I back away from her.
“Have you even packed?” she asks, already knowing the answer.
“I’ve opened my suitcase.”
She rolls her eyes.
“What? I’m going to my parents’; it’s not like I need much.”
A smile breaks free, and she moves closer, letting her bump collide with my smaller stomach as she gives me a hug. “Have an amazing time.”
“Thank you,” I say, squeezing her back. “Make sure Rett gives you the most perfect Thanksgiving ever.”
“It’s going to be great. I’m excited to celebrate surrounded by people.
” My heart aches for my bestie. Since walking away from her own family, her holidays have looked a little different.
She’s been with me to see my parents and celebrate in Idaho, but mostly she prefers to stay here and work.
I think it’s her way of distracting herself from everything she lost, even if it was the right decision.
This year, though, is going to be very different for her. There’s a part of me that wishes I were staying and celebrating Thanksgiving with a handful of Vipers. Or maybe just one in particular…But no matter how hot he is, nothing would keep me away from my parents.
“Send me photos?”
“Of course. You too. And say hi to your parents for me.”
Eventually, after saying goodbye to all the girls, I manage to get out of the salon. Anyone would think I’m disappearing for a month, not just a few days.
The drive home is a blur. My head is spinning with all the things I need to do, what I need to pack, the gifts I need to ensure are placed safely in my luggage.
I have a mental list running in my head that’s getting longer and longer by the second, but my focus is shot because my stomach is growling, desperate for some food. But I don’t have time to sit and eat. Once I’ve packed, I’ll grab something.
I stumble out of the elevator, flustered and already stressed without having even seen my suitcase, but the second I look up, everything vanishes—because there’s a man standing at my front door.
And not just any man.
A hot-as-hell hockey player with a cocky smirk.
Oh, Christ. I’m in trouble.
“Evenin’ darlin’,” he drawls, his southern accent thicker than usual. Just like it was seconds before our lips collided. It hits me right between the legs, and I’m pretty sure it shows on every inch of my face.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” I ask, attempting to sound nonchalant but failing miserably.
“You’re leaving tomorrow morning, right?”
“Uh, yeah,” I agree as I dig around in my purse for my keys. “I’ve got a late morning flight. Why?”
“Thought we could spend the evening together,” he says, revealing a bottle of wine he had hidden behind his back. “Thought we could start celebrating the holiday early.”
My mouth opens and closes as I fight with what to say. He’s got that excited smile playing on his lips that always draws me in. But I don’t have time to spend the evening drinking with him. I’ve got shit to do. “I need to pack,” I blurt.
“O-okay, so…pack. I can hang out while you do what you need to do.”
Once again, no words come.
“Don’t you have anything better to do?”
“No, not really.”
“You could go out with the guys. Find a bun—”
“Sienna,” he growls, his expression hardening.
“What? I’m just saying,” I mutter as I twist the key and let us into my apartment.
Just like I was expecting, he follows me inside without a second thought. Although he doesn’t say anything else. At least, not until he’s put the bottle of wine on my kitchen island. Then he spins around faster than I’m sure he should with his knee and pins me against the wall.
His eyes hold mine, and my heart begins to race. His lips are parted, his breath coming out in warm puffs as his jaw tics with annoyance.
Tingles erupt from my core, and my fists clench at my sides as he plants one forearm beside my head, caging me in.
“I’m not interested in spending the night with a bunny, Sienna. I thought I made that clear the other night.”
His words vibrate through me, making me squeeze my thighs together in an attempt to quell the ache building there.
I swallow thickly.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” he confesses, making me a little lightheaded as he ducks lower and grazes his lips along my jawline.
Oh my god.
My hands lift, pressing against his chest.
He stills, probably thinking that I’m about to push him away. Maybe I am; I don’t know. But before I can decide, my fingers twist in the soft fabric of his T-shirt, dragging him closer.
A groan rumbles deep in his throat a beat before he pulls back and looks into my eyes.
His pupils are blown with desire.
Holy shit.
He…he really wants me.
“Please, darlin’. Let me get another taste. I’m fucking dying here.”
I nod. The movement is so slight that I’m not even sure he’ll see it. But he does, and it’s all he needs.
His lips slam down on mine, and I’m instantly reminded that our previous kiss was as good as I remember.
I lose myself in him as he does the same to me.
At some point, I don’t know how, my hands end up under his T-shirt, gliding against his smooth, taut skin as his muscles dance beneath.
Breathless, he drags his lips from mine, but unable to put an end to our kiss, he moves to my neck.
“Oh God,” I whimper, dragging him closer as he sucks on the sensitive patch beneath my ear.
The second his body presses against mine, I feel it.
Heat surges between my legs, but it’s quickly followed by something else. Something less welcome.
Fear.
I’m not aware that I physically react, but I must, because not a second later, Calvin is pulling back and looking into my eyes.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, a frown pinching his brows.
I shake my head, whispering, “Nothing,” as embarrassment burns my cheeks.
“Darlin’, you just froze. Did I hurt you?”
“No, no. It’s not anything you did.”
Unable to look into his eyes, I slip from between him and the wall. I only intend to move a few steps away, but my legs have a different plan, and I quickly find myself escaping to my bedroom.
The moment I’m no longer surrounded by his heat, his scent, the self-loathing hits.
What the fuck am I doing?
I just had Calvin freaking Keller grinding up against me, and I freaked out.
This is why I never should have let it get this far. I never should have entertained even the idea of spending time with him.
“Sienna?”
My shoulders lock up at the sound of his voice behind me, and tears burn my eyes.
“Darlin’, what’s going on? What just happened out there?” There’s no anger, no frustration in his tone, just softness and the need to understand.
“I-I’m sorry. Things just got a bit much,” I mumble, keeping my back to him.
“I’m…I’m sorry if I came on too strong. I’ve just…It’s been a long few days and…well…I’ve missed you. And…you’re leaving tomorrow. I just…I got excited. I’m sorry.”
Despite my better judgment, I spin and find his eyes.
His face crumples when he sees the tears in mine.
“It’s not you. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s…It’s me. I…” I trail off, unable to find the right words.
“It’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s okay,” he assures me, slowly walking closer.
I force myself to stay put, desperately wanting to trust him.
When he gets close enough, he hesitantly reaches out and cups my face.
His eyes flick between mine. “You don’t need to run from me, darlin’. Whatever it is, I’m right here to catch you.”
Holy shit.
My knees buckle, and he does exactly what he just said. He catches me before I hit the floor.
His strong arms wrap around me, and he holds me tightly. I try to fight the tears, but it’s an impossible feat, and I end up sobbing in his arms and soaking his T-shirt.
It’s safe to say that if this is our second date, I’ve royally fucked it up.