Chapter 15
Fifteen
Ezra
Have you ever met a person who turns you on as much as they frustrate you?
I didn’t either.
Not until her.
I didn’t even think such a feat was possible for someone to achieve. But of course, she goes and does the inconceivable.
Kaeli Reed, since the day I literally collided into her, has been the only woman to put my cock in a perpetual state of hardness and my mind in a constant state of ache. Fighting this never-ending battle with both my heads is terribly exhausting.
I still haven’t figured out which one to listen to. But I do know that if I keep listening to one more word this woman has to say, I’ll either kill her or kiss her, pretty sure she won’t appreciate either of these two.
Saying I was surprised when a notification on my phone read ‘@kaeli.reed liked your post’ would be an understatement. I was so sure that this had to be some sort of mistake. That’s when a series of mistakes ensued.
My first mistake was to text her out of sheer boredom when I saw the picture she liked. It was one of me in a jacuzzi in only my swim trunks. Being the cocky bastard that I am, I called her out on it, but in my defense, I didn’t expect her to reply.
So, imagine my utter surprise when she not only reverted but invited me to the rink.
Alone.
With her.
Under the guise of work, but still.
That’s when the second mistake happened. I should’ve known accepting her invitation would lead to a cataclysmic disaster. I mean, it’s the same woman who barely restrains herself from unaliving me when we’re surrounded by people. I should’ve accounted for what she might do when we’re alone.
Kaeli knew what she was doing when she decided to wear those tight jeans that lifted her ass perfectly. Her ass was made to wear that pair of denims. I should’ve thanked my lucky stars when she didn’t step on the ice for any picture or video.
But I had to go and make my life hell by offering to teach her to skate, upon finding that she works for a hockey team and still doesn’t know how to skate.
It broke my heart a little to see behind that mask of hers. I mean, come on, how the hell did no one teach her to skate? So, I took it upon myself. And that was my third mistake.
One would think that this might be the end. The day was going fantastically, and it felt great to be able to bear witness to this soft side of hers. Until I ruined it with my inability to think before I speak in front of this woman.
It’s clear that I’ve no sense of self-preservation around this complicated and attractive woman, because I went ahead charging like a bull and put my foot in my mouth when I asked her why she had not learnt to skate, why no one had taught her.
Attempting to get her to open up was the final nail in the coffin of my mistakes, in which I now lie as she yells at me. “We were having a civil conversation before you decided to pry.” And even now, my eyes fall to her chest as she folds her hands, pushing her tits out.
“I wasn’t…” I trail off, realizing that there’s no point in explaining anything to her. She’ll only believe what she wants. “God, you’re so frustrating,” I say instead, looking at her with disappointment and fury.
Disappointed because the tentative, unspoken truce came to an end. And furious because I care it has.
Her face twists in anger. “So are you, you narcissistic asshole!”
Rage rushes through me at her words, and planning on reaming one into her, I disintegrate the gap between us in a second. Out of everything that I’d expect her to do–push me, slap me, or glare at me–her actual immediate reaction is not even on the list.
She flinches.
She fucking flinches.
She flinches, and my heart beat drops to nothing, my body stills, and my muscles pull taut. My breakfast threatens to spill out with the conclusions my mind draws from it. Each worse than the one before.
I come to a halt in front of her and then backtrack a little. Worried and torn that she’s scared of me. Her face flashes with regret the moment she realizes what she had done, what I had borne witness to. She quickly composes her features as if that’ll erase what just happened.
But I can’t get the image out of my head; I just can’t let it go. “Are you afraid of me, Kaeli? Do I scare you?” My voice is barely above a whisper; it might break if I speak any louder.
She opens her mouth, but I cut her off. “Don’t lie to me.” I can hear the gruffness in my own voice.
With a heavy sigh, she slowly skates towards me. Raising her hand and placing it on my wildly beating heart, I’m sure she can feel it. She breathes, “No, Ezra. You don’t scare me.” Her gaze remains locked on mine, demanding I believe her.
I search her eyes, and when I find nothing but honesty, I blow out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding as immense relief courses through my veins, and my eyes fall shut.
I don’t think I’d have been able to deal with the fact that I scare her. But that relief is ephemeral, because the next moment I remember that there’s still a reason she flinched.
My eyes pop open as I wrap my fingers around her hand that’s still splayed over my heart, and give it a comforting squeeze. “Why’d you flinch then?” I see her walls building back up again as she pivots her gaze and looks anywhere but at me, trying to yank her hand free.
I don’t let her. Gripping her chin to make her look at me, I repeat, “Why’d you flinch, Kaeli?” This time, when she yanks herself out of my grasp, I let her.
“As I said, my life is none of your business,” she replies curtly, her voice cold.
“You made it my business when you fucking flinched in front of me, Kaeli,” I growl, crowding her, but also making sure she doesn’t fall on the ice.
“Goddamn it, Ezra! Why can’t you just leave me alone?” she snaps, peeved at my insistence.
Observing her, I realize that if she has decided, then she won’t tell me anything, come hell or high water. And that vexes me. What vexes me even more is that I care. So, I take out my anger on her. “I hate you,” I spit in her face.
Her features contort with rage, mirroring mine. “Oh, look at that. Here I thought my feelings for you were unrequited,” she retorts, leaning in my face.
I release an audible grumble and clasp her hand. “What are you doing? Leave me!” she barks at me, but I ignore all her protests as I haul her with me to the edge of the ice.
I need to storm off, but I won’t be able to do so if I’m worried about her head cracking open on the ice. Once we’re in the lower bowl and safely away from the ice, I drop her hand and bend down to take off my skates.
While I do all of this, she stares at me like I have ten heads. Fuck if I know. This woman makes me do crazy things.
Still needing to be away from her, I pick up my skates and hockey stick I kept here earlier, and close the distance between us.
Hovering over her as she looks at me like an avenging angel, I grumble, “Fuck you.” Her eyes widen in surprise, but I don’t wait for her to curse me back.
I swivel on my heels and am out of the rink like a bat out of hell.
She’s going to be the death of me.