Page 57 of Holiday Hostilities

“Today?” I repeat, surprised. I kinda figured the whole Brandi thing died down after Cockroachgate and my bidding on Aaron at the auction was mostly a precaution. I pull on my seatbelt. “The saga continues?”

“The saga continues,” he confirms solemnly. “With the woman in question turning up to our practice this morning in a bikini.” He shakes his head. “A bikini. At an ice rink. In December.”

“Maybe she was planning on using the hot tub or something,” I suggest, cocking an eyebrow. “I’m assuming that luxurious players’ area of yours has one.”

“It does. But Brandi was wearing a giant fur hat and fur boots with her bikini, so I’m not sure that was her intention. I’m honestly not surewhatshe wants.”

“Wow. She’s, um, determined.”

“That’s one word for it.” He scrapes a hand over his stubbled chin, then throws the truck in reverse. “I got my ass to the lockerroom pretty quick so we didn’t cross paths, but I did see that she was holding up a sign that said ‘Roses are red, violets are blue, I came to your practice to say I still love you!’”

“That’s insane,” I say.

He quirks a smile. “Decent rhyme, I thought.”

“I don’t know how you do it.” I wrinkle my nose. “I’d be so freaked out if that was happening to me.”

“Just part of being in the public eye, I guess.” His tone is nonchalant, but I notice his jaw is tight as he speaks. “At least she didn’t post about it on social media this time.”

I’ve never directly followed news about Aaron (because why would I?), but he does seem pretty private with his personal life. Any information I’ve seen about his potential relationships were mostly speculations made by the media, and not actual announcements or statements he’s made himself. I don’t think he’s ever even soft-launched a woman on his Instagram.

As someone who protects her own privacy fiercely—I couldn’t stand having three roommates in my business, never mind the general public—I find myself feeling sympathy for his situation.

It’s a foreign feeling for me when it comes to Aaron.

It makes me itchy.

“So, Lil Griz, now that you’re moving in,” he says, his voice quite a bit lighter. “Do you have any stalkers or boyfriends thatIneed to be aware of?”

“Negative.”

“To the boyfriends, or the stalkers?”

“Both.”

He smiles like this pleases him, and I roll my eyes. “I’m not saying that like there’s an opening, you creep!”

I reach out to slap him playfully on the arm, but his reflexes are quicker than mine and even while driving down the freeway, he easily catches my hand in his.

The contact sets off sparks on my skin. He gives my hand a little squeeze and his fingertips find my pulse point. I wonder if he can feel my heartbeat hammering way too fast. The edge of his fingertip drags over my wrist, and a shiver racks through me.

Self-consciously, I pull my hand out of his grip and busy myself retying my ponytail.

Like he didn’t just touch me like that.

“You look good in that uniform by the way.” His eyes flicker to me. “I like it.”

I dip my head to hide my flushing cheeks as I smooth down the navy skirt I’ve always thought was extremely unflattering on my hips. “Probably just reminds you of that old Britney Spears video where she’s dressed as a sexy flight attendant. Jake had her poster up on his wall; I assume you had a whole assortment of similar ones.”

Aaron turns off the freeway and into the neighborhood I’m about to leave behind. “Nah, I was always more into redheads.”

“Ha, ha.” My voice feels suddenly thick and I hope he can’t hear it.

He illegally parks the truck right where he illegally parked his car the last time he dropped me home and turns to look at me, his eyes burning into mine with undeniable heat this time as he says, “I’m not joking, Olivia.”

And then, before I can say anything at all, or even catch my damn breath, he gets out of the truck.

21

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