Page 18 of Wrong Score

I shouldn't have wanted her—but damn it, I did. I can't remember the last time I've wanted any woman that bad. Not in a long time.

I can't even remember if I wanted to kiss Lily on our first date as much as I wanted to kiss Rowan.

Seeing her lose her footing and almost hit the ground, sent a surge of concern through me. Instinct took over, and I pulled her close to steady and protect her. Years spent on the ice have given me solid footing and balance, allowing me to keep us both upright.

I shake my head, trying to dislodge the memory of the look in her eyes when I asked if she was okay. She looked at me like I had grown two heads. And then, like an idiot, I was going to kiss her.

It would have been a mistake. A moment of weakness brought on by turbulence, close quarters, and her sharp tongue. Nothing more.

And it won’t happen again.

Rowan is a reporter, and if there's one thing I've learned in my years in this business, it's that reporters can't be trusted. I should know; it was a news outlet not unlikeThe Seattle Sunrisethat sold gossip that I had been unfaithful to Lily, and that she ended our marriage because of it. My agent threatened to sue for slander but they retracted the story later—much good that did. The damage was done.

Reporters will sell their own granny for a juicy story, and I'll be damned if I give Rowan Summers ammunition to use against me or my team.

I reach the lifts in the hotel, jabbing the 'up' button with perhaps more force than necessary. As I wait, I replay our interactions since she joined the Hawkeyes' inner circle, trying to gauge her motives. So far, besides the less-than-flattering article she wrote about me before the Hawkeyes agreed to giveThe Seattle Sunrisefull access to the team, her articles have all been lighthearted, yet informative pieces meant to give fans an inside look at each player and who they are on and off the field.

The lift doors slide open with a soft 'ding', and I step forward, only to stop short. There, looking equally surprised, stands the very woman occupying my thoughts.

Rowan Summers, her golden hair slightly mussed from travel, a small suitcase at her side. Our eyes meet, and for a moment, neither of us moves.

"I was just coming up from the basement floor. They have a gym and spa down there," she says.

I give a curt nod and step into the lift.

She's been avoiding me since theincidenton the plane. Taking her time to exit the aircraft, hanging back as far from me as possible and hopping on a different bus to the hotel. I should be avoiding her and dodging her invasive questions, not the other way around. But now, here we are, face to face with nowhere to hide.

I could have saved us both from having to ride up together by telling her that I'll take the next one, but Rowan Summers won't have me running, even if the idea of being enclosed in a small elevator with her closely resembles the situation we were in mere hours ago.

The silence stretches for a few seconds and then Rowan clears her throat.

"All checked in?" she asks, her voice slightly higher than usual.

"Yup," I say simply.

I bend forward to hit level seven while level five is already illuminated.

Good, we're not on the same floor.

The team usually stays on the same level of the hotel together, Penelope always books, but since Rowan was a last-minute add-on, I suppose there weren't any rooms left for her. That's one less thing to worry about. Knowing that she won't be sleeping next door to any players.

"So," Rowan starts, clearly trying to break the awkward silence. "Big game tomorrow. Feeling confident?"

I arch an eyebrow at her. "Fishing for quotes already, Summers?"

She rolls her eyes, a flash of the fire I've come to expect from her. I kind of fire she uses to draw me in. "Believe it or not, Coach, sometimes small talk is just small talk. Until the head coach just about kisses you in the back of an aircraft."

I feel a twinge of guilt, even though nothing happened since we were interrupted by the stewardess. "About the incident in the aircraft, I think we'd both do well to forget it—nothing happened. But I'll give you a quote… if you drop it." I say, glancing over at her. When she lifts a brow at me without a verbal response, I continue by answering her question. "The lads have been training hard. I believe we're in good form for tomorrow's match."

Rowan nods, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "That's good to hear. The team seems really focused."

"They are," I agree, then can't help adding, "When they're not being distracted, that is."

Rowan shakes her head.

"Look, I know you don't trust me," she says softly. "But I'm not your enemy, Bex. I'm just trying to do my job, same as you."

"Just stay off of level seven, and we'll be fine."

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