Page 5 of Their Obsession

“It’s okay.” Noah states with more authority than I’d expect from a kid who’s barely old enough to have a beer. “Karmine, tell Coach I’ll be out for practice today then run and grab the painkillers.” His arms wrap around me again, holding me tightly, possessively even. “I’ll take care of you, Doc. After all, it’s my fault you’re hurt.”

Once the door slams shut to signal the trainer leaving, thick, strong fingers land on my chin, tilting my face up to meet his. His gray gaze peers down at me with such intensity that it causes me to squirm. A slow smile pulls at the corners of his mouth.

“Don’t worry, Sunshine, I’ve got you.”

THREE

NOAH

Sometimes I pinch myself thinking about how lucky I am. I never thought this would be my life. As I walk through the tunnels of the arena, I am struck by just how fucking cool it is that this is my job. My work, if you can even call it that, is playing the game I love. How many kids dream of being a professional hockey player, and then make it their reality? I’m living the damn dream. I make sure to be here early, stay late, practice harder, because I never want to get complacent. I know how fortunate I am, and I will not waste my shot.

That’s why I got to the rink extra early today. I’ve been missing shots, going a bit too wide, when I’m on a breakaway. I need to practice. I need to hone in. There’s no room in the majors for anything other than perfection. And that’s my goal—to not just be good, but to be great.

There’s only one thing in the entire world distracting me from that goal. And that’s a five-foot-five strawberry-blonde who Iam completely infatuated with. Lilliana Stevens is the most attractive woman I’ve ever seen. She’s smart and funny and knows this game even better than the players. She’s entirely out of my league. Plus, she works for the team, which means she is absolutely off limits.

But that hasn’t stopped me from shamelessly flirting with her every opportunity that I get.

She’s like a burst of fresh sunshine. Whenever she walks into the room, the entire space immediately lights up. All eyes are immediately locked onto her. But she’s not like any woman I’ve dated before. She’s not conceited or focused on the fact that we’re all famous athletes. She’s different, in the best possible way.

I can’t be thinking about her today, though; I need to keep my head in the game. I need to focus. I can’t let myself slip up and lose my spot on my first ever professional team. The stakes are too high to be anything but the best I can be.

As I walk down the tunnel towards the ice, my bag slung over my shoulder, I can feel the drop in the temperature. The cold air rushes through my lungs and boils my blood with anticipation. When I step on the ice, I become someone else. I’m stronger, faster, smoother. I’m powerful and fierce. It’s fucking awesome.

The sharp sound of blades cutting through ice pricks my ears.What the hell?Nobody’s supposed to be here yet. Practice isn’t for another couple of hours. Who would be here this early? There were no signs in the locker room of the other players.

Surely if someone broke in and was using our ice to dick around, security would stop them. Right?

Stepping out into the bright lights and open space of the rink, I see a slender figure skate by at an impressive speed.Fucking teenagers!Are you kidding me? On my fucking ice? I don’t think so.

Dropping my bag, I feel the aggressive side of me coming out.This is the side of me that usually only rises to the surface on the ice.

“Hey!” I shout, causing the person to turn around.

When they turn, my heart plummets into my stomach. Lilly’s beautiful face whips around, shock painted across her features. As she turns, she loses her footing and falls.

Being in her home, in her space, surrounded by her scent is simultaneously the most infuriating and exciting thing I’ve experienced in a very long time. It’s a similar reaction to how my body feels at the beginning of a big game—the nerves, the anticipation, the eagerness all morphing into an overload of emotions. It makes me feel like crawling out of my own skin with an obsessiveneed.

I have had a crush on Lilliana Stevens for years. From the moment I laid eyes on her as a rookie walking into the office of my very first NHL team two years ago, and every day since. Her smile, her intelligence, her confidence have completely enraptured me. My very first week on the team I almost quit. I was exhausted and anxious–constantly feeling like I wasn’t good enough. But then, one day, she smiled at me on the way into practice and introduced herself. She told me she’d been watching me and that I was really good. It wasn’t necessarily what she said, but how she said it. She was so kind and genuine. It gave me the reassurance I needed at the exact moment I needed it most. It’s like she could see I was falling apart despite how hard I was trying to hide it from everyone around me. Since then, I’ve been slightly infatuated with her. I just haven’t exactly figured out yet how to convince her that we’d be perfect together. I have attempted to shamelessly flirt with her, compliment her,and catch her eye every single day for the last two years but it’s as if she has blinders on. The amount of times that I’ve ‘accidentally run into her’ while shirtless and sweaty from working out is starting to become ridiculous. It’s slightly desperate, but I’d do just about anything to gain her attention.

I have no idea how she’s been so oblivious to my advances, other than to conclude that she’s a damn workaholic. She’s so completely focused on her career that she barely even stops to eat. It grates on my nerves that she doesn’t take care of herself. On several occasions, I’ve had to stop myself from forcing her to take a break for food and water. It’s not my place. Not yet, anyway. If she can’t slow down to eat, then forget about her slowing down her beautiful psychologist brain in order to stop and flirt with the rookie defensemen. I’ve tried to move on, I really have. I’ve dated other girls, hooked up with puck bunnies, and convinced myself that I was being a creep and needed to leave Lilly alone. But every time I tried to pull away, her warmth and kindness just pulled me back into her orbit.

But now I’m here, in her space, holding her and taking care of her. It just feelsright.

“You can put me down,” her soft, sweet voice jolts me from my thoughts.

Internally, I groan at the thought of releasing her. Her warm body pressed against mine, cradled in my arms, with her arms clinging to my neck, has my heart thumping faster. Years of wanting burn through me, demanding that I not let go of her now that she’s finally in my arms.

“Of course,” I concede. I need to win her over, not scare her away when I’m finally making progress with her.

Today must have been my lucky day. Getting to the rink early, I didn’t anticipate anyone being there. I feel bad that I scared her and made her hit her head, and yet, when her eyes went wide and afraid as she fell, the sight stirred something primal andanimalistic inside of me. I didn’t mean to cause her to fall and I certainly didn’t want to see her hurting, but getting to come to her rescue—fuck yeah,that felt good.

Having her cling to me while Karmine examined her made me instinctively puff out my chest in pride. Having her need me was a heady rush, as if I meant something to her. I mean, I know it was probably just the concussion, but still, it felt nice. I was grateful he said her wrist wasn’t seriously hurt, but the possible concussion is worrisome. Gladly grabbing her pain medicine, I couldn’t help the swell of excitement I felt as I loaded her intomycar. She willingly directed me to her apartment. I’ve been trying to figure out a plan to get her to agree to go out with me for years, and this is certainly not how I would have planned to get her to agree to spend time with me, but I will take what I can get. It was a short drive here, because of course she lives close to work. Even in that short time though, her scent filled the tight confines of my M5. She smells like rain on a spring day—fresh and comforting.

“Well,” she bounces awkwardly from foot to foot. I like seeing her nervous in my presence, like I’m impacting her as much as she impacts me. “I’ll be fine. You can head out now, but thank you.”

The way she looks at the ground abashedly, kicking her feet slightly, tells me everything I need to know. She tucks a lock of shimmering strawberry hair behind her ear. Everything about her is deeply intoxicating.

“Not a chance, Doc. I’m yours for the afternoon. Tell me what you need,” I inform her as I take a step towards her, crowding her, and causing her to let out a shocked little sigh. The breathy sound travels straight to my dick, taking a lot of my blood with it.

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