19 - Haven
HAVEN
The cold woke me up. Again. As it always did.
This time it didn’t sneak up on me either, it attacked me all at once. It bit through my blankets like they weren’t even there, savaging my skin with its razor-sharp teeth.
I sat up, and sucked in way too quick of a breath. Right away I realized my mistake. The air tore at my lungs, and I began coughing violently. Each time I did, the dark space in front of me filled with clouds of swirling steam.
To hell with this.
I grabbed my hoodie, and yanked it on right over my sweatshirt. Then I hopped up, marched straight through my bedroom door, and out into the hallway.
For a second I turned, and looked at the opposite door.
Sebastian.
I thought about the warmth of his room. The blissful feeling of sinking beneath his blankets, and how quickly his long arms had driven the chill from my body.
NO.
It was too soon. Way too soon.
Shoving thoughts of Sebastian’s warm body aside, I forced my feet to carry me down the stairs. Each step made things just a little bit warmer. Each floor was better than the last.
On the first floor, the house was quiet and still. There were no voices, no movement. Everyone else was asleep. Even Sir-Cleans-a-Lot was slumbering away, in his cradle against the wall.
Good.
I moved carefully across the floor, avoiding the spots I already knew would creak.
I moved through the kitchen, and into the hallway toward the back of the house.
At the end of the hall was a door I hadn’t noticed before — older than the rest, scuffed and slightly warped.
Something had been nailed across it once.
The wood was still there, splintered at the edges like someone had thought better of going down… and then changed their mind.
I turned in the other direction, then willed myself out the back door — and into the freezing cold outside.
The cedar structure attached to the house still glowed warmly from within.
The hot house.
They’d made it clear it was strictly off-limits.
Also— they weren’t here.
I reached it in seconds, yanking the door open and slipping inside before the cold followed me in. Heat hit immediately, folding over me in a blessed wave. It was thick. Heavy. Wonderful.
I shed my hoodie, and let the amazing warmth wrap itself around me like a blanket of pure awesomeness. I closed my eyes. Took a long, deep, cedar-scented breath…
“Couldn’t sleep?”
The sudden voice sent my heart leaping into my throat! My eyes flew open, and there he was:
Ares.
His voice was rough and low, like he’d been there for a while.
“Freezing,” I said.
He shifted a little on his wooden seat, and regarded me curiously.
“Yeah.”
That was it. No comment. No jab. Nothing but simple agreement.
I moved further in, stepping out of my slippers. I peeled off my socks and sat down, as the heat was already starting to build against my skin.
“Thought this place was player only,” I joked nervously.
“It is.”
“Funny,” I shrugged. “I must’ve slipped past the bouncer.”
He glanced up again, and for a moment our eyes met. Sweat dripped from the hair hanging over his face.
“Lucky you.”
Ares lowered his face again, his broad back flexing in a great ‘V’ as he pulled a small towel over his head. He wore a similar towel like a belt; one that barely made it around his waist, and only came down to the tops of his thick, powerful thighs.
Other than that, he wore nothing.
“You don’t belong here.”
He said it flatly, without emphasis. I didn’t flinch.
“Here?” I pointed downward. “Or in the house?”
The defenseman gave a slow shrug of his boulder-like shoulders.
“Does it matter?”
I sat down, as if to cement my place in both. The wood felt hot against my legs, even through my clothes. I fucking loved it.
“You got a problem with me — fine, say it,” I told him plainly. “It’s not as if I haven’t been useful.”
Ares let out a loud hiss. He reached down and gripped the bench tightly with both hands, his arms flexing wildly, as if holding something back.
“You think one win fixes what happened to Trees?”
“I don’t think you actually know what happened to Trees.”
That stopped him. Just for a second.
“You were there,” he said. “Tell me.”
“No. I wasn’t.”
“You showed up right after.”
“That doesn’t make me the reason.”
His fingers dug deeper into the cedar bench. Biceps bulged. Triceps screamed.
I should’ve looked away, but I couldn’t.
“Seems pretty convenient,” Ares went on. “First, Sutherland gets traded. Perfectly good goalie. Just disappears, overnight, no explanation...”
For now, I let him talk. I couldn’t risk the opportunity to get to the bottom of things.
“Then the rookie shows up, with a big bow on his head. Like he’d been locked and loaded.”
“You’re talking about Sebastian.”
“Yeah,” Ares confirmed. “Not a bad kid, but he’s no Carter Sutherland.”
Carter Sutherland was losing games, I wanted to point out. And lots of them.
But I kept my mouth shut.
“So we’re playing with him for a few weeks, fast and loose, trying to adjust,” Ares continued. “And then suddenly coach Trees gets cut, in the dead of night. Office cleared out. Desk gone. Not even a single fucking push-pin left, on any one of the walls.”
“That sounds… shitty.”
“It was shitty,” he grunted, looking down at the floor. “It is shitty.”
There was the gravity of sorrow in his voice — almost like mourning.
That part didn’t make sense. It just wasn’t… Ares.
“So then all of management shows up,” he continued. “And I mean all of them. Suits. Private jets. Rolex Pearlmasters on every fucking wrist. They install Mercer overnight, like they’re doing a software upgrade. But first… they announce you.”
“But I didn’t get here right away,” I protested.
“No, but you were a big part of the package,” Ares replied. “The suits pumped you up like you were the Second Coming. Talked about you ushering in a ‘new era.’”
“New era?” I repeated, numbly. “What the hell does that mean?”
Ares laughed, and shook his head.
“You tell us, Spreadsheet. We only hit people and shoot pucks.”
I sat there silently absorbing the info, every bit as much as my body soaked in the heat. The air smelled like cedar, and sweat, and something deeper. Something older.
It was getting hard to think, hard to breathe. I’d planned on stripping down a little, upon coming here. But I hadn’t planned on Ares.
By now the cold had been driven from my body, and sweat was pouring down my face. I pulled at my collar, which felt way too tight. A wave of heat rose up from within.
“Looks like you’re sweating through your sweatshirt,” chuckled Ares.
His sardonic expression dared me to take it off, knowing the whole time that I wouldn’t. I did it anyway. Without giving it a second thought, I pulled it — and my T-shirt along with it — right over my head.
Hot air folded around my exposed skin, as my sweat evaporated. Right away, I felt immeasurably better.
“You ever wonder why you got inserted into the house?” Ares asked, offhandedly.
He made no attempt to look away; his eyes lingering shamelessly on my sleep bra. Likewise, I made no attempt at giving a shit.
“Financial reasons,” I shrugged.
“You’re a spy,” he said simply. “Management sent you here to report back on us.”
My mouth dropped all the way open.
“Is that what you think?”
“You showed up right after everything went to hell.”
“That’s not proof of anything.”
The big defensemen grunted something that could’ve been a laugh. “You think I need proof?” he almost grinned. “You think any of us feel the need to justify ourselves to you?”
I thought about it a moment. I guess they didn’t.
“You were part of the plan that buried our coach,” he went on, “for a handful of magic beans in the form of statistics. As if you could wave that tablet of yours like a wand, and win games.”
The look of utter contempt on his handsome face was mirrored in my own. All of a sudden, I was very angry.
“Oh yeah?” I shot back. “Watch me.”
I jumped up, without meaning to. I even took a step in his direction.
“I don’t know who the fuck you think you are,” I growled, “or why you think I know anything at all about Coach Trees. Because I don’t. I never met the man.”
I leveled a finger at his broad, sweat-soaked chest, and tried to keep my hand steady.
“You said it yourself, I don’t belong here. And trust me, I don’t. I got roped into this whole thing, the same as the rest of you. But as long as I’m here, I’m going to do everything in my power to help us win.”
Those glacial blue eyes stared back at me, burning with a cold fire.
“Us?” he chuckled.
Holy shit, I wanted to kill him! I wanted to ball my hand into a fist, and punch it straight through that smug grin.
“If you hate me so much,” I growled instead, “why the hell did you even help me the other night?”
Ares stood up quickly, reaching his full, intimidating height. He actually had to bow his head a little, to keep from hitting the hot house ceiling.
“In the parking lot?” he barked. “With that asshole, from the Vipers?”
“Yes.”
His face twisted into an angry frown. “There’s a big difference between hating your role here, and letting you get hurt.”
We were suddenly standing toe to toe, in the brutally dry heat. Matted hair clung to our faces. Every inch of our exposed skin glistened with sweat.
And Ares had tons of deliciously exposed skin.
“I would never let anybody hurt you,” he growled angrily.
I was suddenly very aware of him; his presence, his strength, his raw power. Physically he dwarfed me, in every way. The difference between us was almost cartoonish.
But it was also really, seriously hot.
“No?” I squeaked.
“No,” he shook his head slowly. “Never.”
His eyes blazed with an intense blue fire. Almost like he was replaying the encounter.
“Why?”
The question set him back a step. He looked confused.
“Why what?”
“Why would you protect me?” I murmured. “You don’t even know me.”
“I know you.”
“You don’t even like me.”
“I…” he paused for a moment, like a cautious animal about to step into a trap. “I tolerate you.”
Our bodies drifted closer, somehow. Like the center of gravity in the hot house existed directly between us.
“You… tolerate me,” I giggled.
Ares’s brows crashed together. Like he was trying to figure something out.
“I’m not laughing at you,” I sighed. “I’m laughing at the idea that—”
My voice died, as I felt a hand brush my hip. It could’ve been entirely unintentional. A complete accident.
Then again, why were we occupying the same few inches when we had the whole place to ourselves?
“You think you’re right all the time, don’t you?” he breathed.
I didn’t know if he expected an answer. He expected something, though, because he still hadn’t stepped aside.
“Life isn’t some math problem,” Ares muttered. “You can’t solve everything with numbers and figures.”
Though his tone was admonishing, his hand still hadn’t left my hip. It felt electric there, like tiny bolts of lightning arcing between his fingers and my skin. And it was hot. I was sweating through what little clothes I had.
“And you can’t solve everything just by hitting it,” I poked him.
“You can if you hit it hard enough,” Ares growled, his voice low. “And sometimes… if you hit it at just the right angle?” He leaned in, putting his lips right up against my ear.
“You plow straight through it,” he breathed, huskily.
Goosebumps erupted everywhere, as his hand held me steady. His fingers spread even wider across my bare hip, just above my drawstring waistband. His fingers tightening just enough to test, to question.
Ares's eyes dropped — then came back up again. Slower this time.
Something shifted. Not anger. Not anymore.
“I—”
He didn’t ask permission… he just kissed me. Not slow. Not careful.
No, he kissed me hard and fast.
Ohhhhhhh… shit.
It felt like everything that had been held back between us was released, all at once. A dam broke. My hands flew up to his shoulders, pulling him closer instead of shoving him away.
Heat surged — sharp and immediate, nothing like the slow build with Sebastian.
This was way different. Rougher. Edgier.
Built on friction, instead of warmth and comfort.
His hand slid from my hip to my back, pulling me flush against him. His mouth devoured mine hungrily, the space between us gone completely.
For a long second, there was nothing else. No sound, no movement, no one but us. I reveled in the heat, the pressure, the unseen electricity, crackling between us. Our lips rolled slowly, as we both took exactly what we wanted… without apology.
And then it happened: I saw it with my own eyes. The control that had slipped like a mask snapped right back into place.
The shift was anything but subtle. Ares’s movements slowed, like he’d crossed over a line he hadn’t expected to get anywhere near. His hands left my body. He pulled back.
“No.”
I lowered my gaze. I’d been a split second from pulling back before he did, but I hadn’t had his level of control.
“This is a bad idea,” he grumbled.
Shit. There was a lot of that going around.
“Yeah.”
My whole body throbbed. My lips still tasted like his. Every part of me wanted nothing but more of him.
Everything except my stupid head.
“Get out.”
His words were rough and controlled. There was a hint of anger in them too, but the anger wasn’t for me.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah.”
Ares turned away, dropped heavily back into his spot on the bench. He pulled the towel over his head again.
“Get out.”
Part of me was hurt and angry. The rest of me was relieved, because I knew he was right. I gathered my things quickly, and pulled my shirt back on. Then I pushed the door open and stepped into the night, without looking back.
The cold hit hard again, but this time I embraced it. The cold was the devil I knew. An enemy I could deal with.
But whatever just happened between Ares and I was something entirely different.
I stood there for a second, taking small breaths so my lungs could readjust. Then I retraced my steps, making my way back through the house.
Ares still hated me. That hadn’t changed. Even so, what happened between us hadn’t been nothing.
And that was the part that scared me more than anything else.