Page 64 of Fear of Falling

Clearly, I wasn’t too sly with my staring. Why deny it at this point?

“Yes, I am.” Deciding to make the most of it, I grabbed my phone and clicked the camera button. Angling it just right, I snapped a picture of him. While it was a simple shot, it highlighted exactly how attractive Wyatt was. His nose may be a little crooked from too many hockey mishaps, but it made him hotter in my opinion. So too, did the casual way he leaned back in his seat, wrist resting on the top of the steering wheel, the sleeves of his shirt pushed up past his elbows. My inner hand kink reared its head at the sight of the veins bulging in his hands and forearms.

I stared at the picture on my phone like a weirdo, and once again, my imagination soared. As I admired his strong jawline, I wondered how the light stubble would feel against my inner thighs. This picture was definitely going to become one of my favorites.

“Is it a good picture?” he asked, and I blushed profusely, as though he’d caught me red-handed.

“No wonder your face is on billboards,” I mumbled, not daring to look up.

“Good genes, I guess.”

“Does that mean your brothers are also attractive?” His head snapped in my direction so fast that I couldn’t help but giggle. “Are they single too?” I innocently asked.

His eyes narrowed, and he shot out his hand and grabbed my knee, squeezing, just like he did last night. It made me jump, and I reached out, gripping his wrist. Wyatt waited a moment before doing it again, making me half-gasp, half-laugh.

“Wanna say that again?” he asked, and as he moved to squeeze my knee again, I jerked on instinct before erupting in a fit of giggles.

“I’m kidding!”

“You little siren.” He released my knee, only to move his hand along my thigh, leaving it there. “I’ll remember that later.”

There was a daring promise in his voice that made me want to shift in my seat, and it took all my willpower to keep still. A barrage of dirty thoughts flooded my mind, making my skin heat up.

The possessive way Wyatt gripped my thigh had me wondering if he was the dominating type. Then there was the intense look in his eyes when he kissed me last night.

“I hope you like this next surprise,” Wyatt said, interrupting my thoughts. I doubt I could hate anything Wyatt does.

Less than a minute later, he steered us into the Toronto Knights Arena.

I gazed up at it through the front windshield, marveling at how much bigger it looked in the daytime, without tons of fans waiting to get inside. The parking lot was empty as Wyatt drove through the security gate and around to the back entrance.

“I saw how much you enjoyed the game last night, so I thought, why not let you see it all up close?”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Yep.” He flashed me a grin before jumping out of the car. With excitement building, I grabbed my phone out of my bag which I placed at my feet, not needing it. I opened my door and stepped out, finding Wyatt standing there frowning.

I think I found one of his love languages.Acts of service.

He scowled at the door like it did him dirty as I shut it behind me, trying not to laugh.

“You can glare at it later; I have a hockey arena to explore.” I grabbed his wrist and tugged him towards the entrance door.

“I wasn’t glaring at it,” he protested behind me.

“Yeah, you were. Do you have a thing against car doors?” I called back.

“My mom taught me to never let a woman open any door.” Proving his point, he took out what looked like a key card fromhis pocket and held it to the door scanner. As soon as the lock on the door clicked, Wyatt grabbed the handle.

“After you m’lady,” he said dramatically, as he bowed and waved his hand in front of him.

I slid past him into the semi-familiar hallway from last night. With a hand on my lower back Wyatt led us down the hall.

“First stop is the locker room for skates.”

Our steps echoed along the concrete hallway, and I was grateful that Wyatt knew his way around. After the second turn, I lost all sense of direction. When we reached the locker room door, Wyatt held it open, and I ducked under his arm to get through.

My first thought was how huge the room was. Not that I should have been surprised, considering it needed to be big enough for the players and their gear, not to mention the coaching staff and the rest. I felt a little like I was trespassing as I walked through the room, taking everything in. It was clear they spared no expense when it came to building the room.

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