Page 12 of One Timer With A Wingman

“Huh?” I ask.

“About the list. What else is on it? Is it more sexual stuff? Do you want to see Bora Bora?” he guesses.

There may be some sexual things on my list, but I won’t be sharing those with him.

“Bora Bora is in fact on my list but given how long a flight would be to get there, I don’t see that happening now.”

“Taylor is right. You just need to fly more to desensitize yourself,” he says.

“What would you know about anxiety?” I ask, realizing that’s a little too personal. “Never mind, sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. My first year on the team was stressful. I had to make sure I was performing, but I kept feeling anxious every time I got on the ice,” he explains, surprising me that he is sharing something so personal.

“That must have been tough. I know something about that. I felt that way when I started on the gymnastics team,” I offer.

“What did you do?” he asks.

“You tell me first.” My response is immature, but I am not big on sharing personal details about myself, and it helps if he shares first.

“I told myself I would try my best and the rest was out of my control,” he says.

“Easier said than done,” I huff. “As a gymnast, the pressure is real. A foot out of place gets you docked points at a competition.”

“Hockey is also intense. We’re all just trying to gain enough points to make it to the NHL,” Aaron says. “It took a lot of work to get out of my head. I realized I could be my greatest cheerleader or my worst friend. For the longest time, I was the asshole putting myself down. I had to kick the asshole’s ass, and now I’ve just got the cheerleader.” His lip quirks in the most adorable way. “That sounded wrong.”

“Actually, it makes perfect sense.” I smile. I don’t know why I have butterflies in my stomach right now. I better refocus. Aaron Murray is a nice guy. There is more to him than his cocky, gorgeous exterior. That’s a bad thing. I need to go back to disliking him.

“Good, so will you just chill out now? Honestly, what you need is a good orgasm. Some endorphins will have you feeling like your head is in the clouds, and you’ll stop being a worrywart.”

That was mean. Good. He is an asshole like I first thought.

“That was rude. I don’t know why I bothered talking to you,” I snap to him. I turn away from him. Things were getting a little too personal anyway.

“Because you find me hot and maybe you want to check off another item from your bucket list,” he whispers against my ear.

Shivers run down my spine of the good kind. I ignore him but, damn, he got me there.

“Aaron, you and I are never happening,” I assure him.

“Briar, if there is one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you should never say never.” With that he puts his earbuds in his ears and goes back to doing whatever he was doing. And me, well, I know I’m screwed.

CHAPTERTHREE

Briar

“Thanks for rooming with me,” I say to Taylor as we unpack our suitcases. We are meeting up with our group in the lobby and heading out to the beach together in twenty minutes. I know she may have preferred to room with Hawk.

“No problem.” Taylor shrugs. “I don’t think these rooming arrangements are going to last anyway. You know what I mean? Besides, I saw you and Aaron on the plane; there’s chemistry there.”

My eyes pop at her statement. “I do not have chemistry with Aaron Murray.” I accentuate each word.

“Okay, yeah, sure,” she replies sarcastically.

“I was practically having a nervous breakdown on the flight. I thought we were going to crash.”

“And Aaron came to your rescue. He’s into you. You’re a lucky bitch. Aaron is superhot.”

“I’m not hooking up with Aaron,” I clarify. End of story. I find my bikini and head to the bathroom.

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