Her proximity, the feel of her in my arms, her body pressed against mine, momentarily steals all my sanity, and I find myself dipping in close and sliding my nose up the curve of her neck, inhaling her sugary-sweet scent.
The softest sound escapes her throat, barely a moan. It’s not a sound I’m familiar with, and I’m dying to hear it again. So I do it a second time, then nip at the bare skin of her shoulder.
“You have until tomorrow.” I release her and take two big steps back. If I don’t get out of her apartment, I’ll do something I can’t come back from. Like pin her against the wall and taste other parts of her.
Sara spins, her jaw unhinged. “You’re leaving?”
I swallow past the lump in my throat and give her one subtle nod.
“Okay,” she says, drawing out the word. “So we’re dating?” Her voice is low, unsure.
“Yup.”
She tilts her head and pulls that bottom lip between her teeth. “For how long?”
I keep walking backward until I hit the door. “Till my uncle quits.”
“What?” She presses a palm to her chest. “He’s never going to quit.”
“He will if we play this right. I saw how he looked at you.” I take a deep breath and ignore the ache in my chest. “You weren’t just a fling for him.”
I hate to admit it, but there’s no way he didn’t have real feelings for her. How could he not care about her? She’s perfect.And as much as it hurts, I have to believe he did. Because if he cheated on my aunt with a woman he didn’t really care about, just because he could, well, there’s no way I can reconcile that with the person I thought he was. But if he did it because he fell for Sara? I still can’t condone it or even forgive him, but I can understand it.
At least a little.
“What about you?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest and lifting her chin, suddenly bolder than she’s been all evening.
I lean against the door and grasp the knob. “What about me?”
“The girl you told me about. Won’t this be a problem for her?”
This fucking girl. God. “I don’t date during hockey, Sar.”
She nods. “Right. But you said?—”
“You’re my only girl.” I pull up to my full height and shut her down. “Stop worrying. The only thing you should be concerned about tonight is what you’ll be calling me when you fake scream my name.”
She throws her head back and laughs. “God, with a mouth like that, I should start calling you dirty boy.”
I wink and pull the door open. “Now we’re talking. Night, Pumpkin.”
“Night, Brooks.”
ELEVEN
SARA
Game days are my absolute favorite. The boys swagger everywhere they go, cocky as shit. The energy levels in our apartment building and at the arena are high. Even the office is abuzz with an excitement that pushes the day along.
On game days, I don’t have to be in the office until later in the day, since I cover the press and deal with the players long after they exit the ice for the night. The days are long, but every moment is charged with excitement.
It makes it impossible not to love my job.
A job that has given me so much more than money to help my family. It gives me a purpose. Not to mention, I’m damn good at it.
And I really freaking don’t want to lose it.
Liv steps into my office, phone in hand, not quite paying attention to me as she taps out a message on the screen.She’s dressed in all black, as usual, and her dark hair is pulled into her signature bun. “What time you heading to the arena?”