Page 74 of Penalized Love

I nod, tracing idle patterns on his chest with my fingertips. “Do you ever wonder what would have happened if you hadn’t broken up with me?”

See? Foot. In. Mouth.

Asher’s body tenses up beneath my touch because of my blunt question. Shit. I shouldn’t have asked that. Everything was perfect, and I had to ruin it by bringing up the past. What is wrong with me?

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have...” I backpedal, but Asher cuts me off.

“No, it’s okay.” He sighs, his chest rising and falling under my cheek. “I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about it. Especially over these past few weeks after seeing you again.”

I prop myself up on my elbow so I can see his face. I find him staring up at the ceiling as if it’s the most exciting thing in the world.

“Asher, we don’t have to talk about this now...”

“I think we do, though.” He turns his head to meet my gaze. “I need you to know that breaking up with you was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. And not a day has gone by when I haven’t wondered if I made a mistake. Hell, I know I made a mistake.”

I swallow hard when he stops speaking. I search his face, looking for any sign that he might not be being sincere. But nothing is shouting at me that he’s lying right now.

“You mean that?” I ask softly. I’m almost afraid to believe him, afraid to let myself hope that maybe, just maybe, this could be our second chance and not just a quick fuck.

Granted, nothing about this has been quick, and I love that for me.

Asher reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering on my cheek. “I do. I was young and stupid, and I thought I was doing what was best for me at the time because Coach was your father. That was not the case.”

His confession hangs in the air between us, neither one of us knowing what to say after that. A part of me wants to be angry with him for making that decision for both of us all those years ago. But another part, a bigger part, understands the pressure he must have felt, the fear of jeopardizing his hockey career and his relationship with my dad.

Not to mention the effect it could have had on his family.

“I get it,” I say softly, leaning into his touch. “I totally get it.”

But I’m not sure if Asher hears me. His eyes have a slight glaze, and his words do not directly correspond to what I said. “I was terrified of disappointing him and losing my spot on the team. But in the end, I lost something far more important—you.”

Tears form in the corners of my eyes as the gravity of his words rests on my heart. There’s no doubt in my mind that his focus is completely on me. His eyes bore into mine, and I feel a shiver. The intensity in his gaze reminds me of the stare down we shared just before we climaxed. I’m not sure what to say in response. However, Asher has no problem filling in the gap.

“And I refuse to make that same mistake again, sunshine.”

29

ASHER

I’m at home on the ice because my head’s exactly where it needs to be for the first time in a while.

I smirk as the cold air slaps my cheeks as I fly across the rink. This movement almost feels like a warm embrace, but it doesn’t compare to how I feel when she wraps her arms around me.

Hell, her legs, either.

Speaking of, I can’t ignore the prickling sensation at the back of my neck. It’s because I’m aware that I’m being watched. I can feel the weight of eyes following my every move. I know without looking that it’s her.

My sunshine.

Her presence is like a magnetic pull, drawing me in even as I try to focus on the task. I catch a glimpse of her out of the corner of my eye, her camera raised to capture the action in the rink. But I swear, for just a moment, her lens lingers on me a beat too long.

The thought of her watching me makes me giddy, but I will never admit it to the guys. It’s a secret rush that I have to keep hidden because I know shit would hit the fan. I can’t let it showon my face or in my body language, even as I’m dying to meet her gaze head-on.

I channel that energy into my movements, pushing myself harder and faster. Part of me wants to dare someone to say that my head isn’t in the game, more so this practice, based on my performance. I am slightly distracted by Isla. However, knowing that I have back part of what we used to have is enough to make me keep my head down and get to work on the ice.

I’m aware of where she’s standing with her camera in hand. I already have an image in my mind of the way her blonde hair cascades down her back and her eyes sparkle as she does her job.

With a slight shake of my head, I tear my focus away from Isla, determined to prove that I can keep my head in the game despite everything else that is going on. I skate harder because I’m determined to prove myself after a shitty couple of weeks. The wandering that’s occurring in my mind needs to stop, especially with Coach’s watchful gaze tracking what feels like my every move.

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