Page 13 of Lawson

Fuck me, her car is parked next to mine.

“Blakely,” I call out before I can stop myself. I never resented my no-filter mouth until now, because she turns at the sound of her name being called. Her blue eyes lock with mine and something intense flashes there before she blinks it away.

She arches a perfect brow at me as I make my way over to her car.

Why the fuck am I making my way over to her car?

I should be getting in mine and ignoring her unless she's giving me directions on the ice, but here I am, grinning at her like an idiot.

“Can I help you with something, Wolfe?”

“Oof,” I say, furrowing my brow at her. “Reducing me to my last name?”

She shrugs, looking up at me. “That's how I refer to the other Badgers. Do you want special treatment?”

Her voice is light with this special hint of sass that seems specific to her and fucking irresistible to me.

“I am special,” I say, stepping a little closer to her because I just can't fucking help myself. “I know what you taste like, damsel. Doesn't that at least put me on a first-name basis?”

Blakely visibly swallows, a blush flushing her cheeks, and I smirk as my comment hits its mark. Heat churns in her eyes before regret flashes over her features.

“I’m sorry about that,” she says on a sigh, and it takes the wind right out of my sails.

“Why?”

She blinks a few times, tilting her head. “I didn't know you were a Badger,” she explains. “I wouldn't have... I would’ve told you that I was going to be your new skate coach. I wouldn't have let things get so?—”

“Heated?” I cut her off, my smile returning.

“Right,” she says. “I would’ve never taken advantage of you like that.”

I purse my lips, considering. “I think that's the first time a woman has ever said something like that to me,” I say.

“You mean you're used to women taking advantage of you?”

I shrug. “Not in a predatory way,” I admit. “But I'm all about being useful, and most women find me useful in pretty muchonearea.”

Her lips part, and I hate that every fiber of my being wants to suck that lip into my mouth.

“That doesn't seem fair,” she says.

“Sure it is,” I say. “My first love is the ice. Always will be. Understandably, no one wants to compete with that. But I’m good with being useful. You know, like when creepy ex-boyfriends show up where they're not wanted.” I wink at her, and a genuine smile plays across her lips.

Fuck me, she's breathtaking. She's as beautiful off the ice as she is on it, and I kind of hate that the combination is so killer.

I should leave.

I should give her a nod and bid her a-fucking-dieu.

So why are my feet so firmly planted?

“Yeah,” she says. “Pretty sure I already thanked you for that.”

“You could alwaysthankme again,” I say, letting every ounce of hunger I have for her show on my face.

She lets out a shaky laugh and digs in her bag for something. She pulls out a tube of lip balm, but in the process drops her phone on the ground.

Before she can move, I'm there, dipping down to scoop it up. I glance up at her from where I'm almost on my knees before her, and I swear I see her pulse spike from the delicate lines of her neck. Slowly I rise to my feet, offering her the phone.

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