Page 69 of Ice Bet

Savannah looked down at Aasher’s hand. I wanted to hate her, but I knew nothing about her. If Aasher didn’t hate her, even after her dad attacked him, how could I? “But you’renota bad guy.”

Aasher let go of her hand. She turned around, and that was when I pulled my eyes away from her. I stood quietly as everyone continued to push the crowd away. His long arms were down by his sides, and his cheeks were flushed with anger or embarrassment, maybe even both.

I stepped up to him, zeroing in on his busted lip. “Are you okay?”

He sighed, turning the rest of the way around, and began heading toward the way I came. “I’m fine.” His answer was a brush of cool air in my direction. He wouldn’t meet my eye, and though I knew I shouldn’t have followed after him, I did anyway.

The locker room was empty when I entered, except for Aasher. He was tucked behind the second row of lockers with his forehead pressed against the silver metal, and his hands flattened on both sides. The gray BU shirt he wore was stretched tightly against his back with little specks of sweat dotting his spine.

“What are you doing here?”

I jumped at the brash tone he used.

When he turned to me, I stared directly at the blood still trickling from his bottom lip. I went into the showers that lingered with steam and grabbed a rag off the shelf, wetting it. When I returned, Aasher was sitting on the bench with his head hung low and his hands resting on the tops of his knees.

“Look up,” I whispered, stepping into him. He spread his legs, and his head slowly rose. His high cheekbones were stamped red, and there was an ache in my chest.

My breath quickened when his hands splayed against the backs of my thighs, and he pulled me in closer, angling his head so I could press the rag against his mouth. I wanted to ask what just happened, and I wanted to know who Savannah was. It was only fair after all, since he knew so much about me. But instead of asking, I wiped at his busted mouth and relaxed in the silence that surrounded us. It was just as calming being in a silent locker room with him as it was when we were on the ice, working on college papers with nothing but the buzzing lights above our heads, which was surprising because the last time I was alone with a guy in a locker room, I was left tainted.

Aasher knew my secrets, and he had seen my fears firsthand. Knowing someone's secrets and keeping them close was how you built trust. The fact that I was standing in a deserted locker room with Aasher told me all I needed to know.

I trusted him more than I thought.

“Your lip is split,” I whispered, dabbing at his mouth again.

“I don’t care.”

“Be honest. Are you okay?” My hand shook when he peered up at me.

“I’m fine.” Hetightened his grip on the backs of my legs, a tell to his lie. Denim separated the pads of his fingers along my skin, but warmth still rushed to the spot he was touching. “It’s nothing you need to be concerned about.”

“But I am concerned,” I whispered, wiping at his mouth once more. The blood seemed to stop.

“Why?” he asked, keeping his face tilted toward me. His green eyes stood out against the flushed color of his skin and richness of his still-damp hair.

I really shouldn’t be concerned.

Up until this moment, I swore to never be vulnerable when it came to another hockey player, no matter how genuine they may seem. I swore I’d never fall for another hockey player, either—or trust one. Yet here I was.

It was the way he looked at me with pride when I got onto the ice.

It was the sincere tone he used when he told me he was proud of me.

The warmth that pooled in my lower belly with his approval was something I hadn’t felt in years.

Asher pushed away the rag that I tried to use on his lip again. It fell to the bench beside him with a smack. “I could have sworn that you told me you hated me last night. So why are you in here wiping the blood off my face and asking if I’m okay?”

“Because.” I looked away, but he pulled me in even closer. A ragged breath squeezed out of my tight chest.

“Eyes on me, Duster.”

Heat flooded in between my legs, and I knew he could sense it. My brows folded together, but his words worked into my skin like a scar.

“You don’t hate me after all, do you?”

“Maybe I'm just taking care of you because I owe you one. You took care of me after the party, so I’m just repaying you,” I lied right through my teeth.

His lip tipped. “You are such a liar. I think you’re finally realizing that not all hockey players are assholes.”

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