Page 104 of Between the Blue
Ben has never been easy for me to read or understand, but that night a few weeks ago was different. I never thought in a million years, after all of the disagreements and tension we’ve had with one another, that I would find myself in that position. Between Ben and a hard place.
Literally.
My hands on him and his mouth on mine.
I’ve always been attracted to him. Since the moment I first saw him. And even as time went on, I wanted with everything in me to be able to turn off the way he made me feel. But, unfortunately, it wasn’t that easy. And just like that, nearly three months of angst and frustration just bubbled over.
He wanted me. I saw it in his eyes. Along with so many other emotions I couldn’t place. And, honestly, I wanted him too. Whether I had zero shots of tequila in me or ten, there was no denying that.
I’m just not sure where it all went wrong. It was like something triggered him. Something shifted when I grabbed his wrist. And I’ve been trying to pinpoint it ever since.
I can’t lie, the time apart has been good. I know we’ve needed it. I’m thankful for my lack of being able to attend the away games so far, even though I know I won’t get away with that forever.
I knew we were going to have to face each other eventually. That, as the Texas Storm hockey team’s social media manager, I wouldn’t be able to avoid the team’s captain forever, but that doesn’t mean I’m thrilled about it.
I just want it over. I want to put this behind us.
Ben’s made it clear more times than I care to count that he has a problem with me. That we can’t be around each other. So, it’s time we set some boundaries and keep things professional. And, if I’m lucky, maybe he’ll even help me to get out of here sooner rather than later.
I went all out, buying the best green colored gown I could afford. Tonight, I’m not dressed for the job I have, but the job I want. And Natasha Collins is my target. I have to get her alone tonight. I have to get her to hear me out. I seemed to somewhat win over her husband, but she’s an entirely new game. I know she’s not easily impressed, and that’s one of the reasons I adore her so much.
I finish off my first glass of rosé that one of the bartenders let me have early, setting it on an empty tray to my side. I’m not planning on drinking tonight, but I needed just a little something in me to settle my nerves.
I hear the door suddenly open behind me, and it only takes a few moments and the rising level of chatter for me to realize it’s the players. All of them, clearly dressed to the nines in their best suits.
Just like in every game, Rhett and Ben are the last to make their way through the door.
I take a deep breath, smoothing out my dress and making sure the loose waves I put into my hair are orderly.
When I finish, I glance up again from my spot over in the corner of the room, finding Ben’s eyes on me. My lips part as my spine straightens. I hesitate for a moment, deciding if I should remain still or attempt to wave at him, but he doesn’t give me much time to decide, looking away within a second.
I guess that’s all I need to know then.
The two of us are clearly on the same page. And there’s no need to attempt to interact with Ben other than for photo taking purposes tonight.
We’re colleagues. Nothing more.
“Champagne, ma’am?”
I glance to my side, finding a waiter that has appeared out of nowhere with a tray full of champagne glasses.
“Absolutely,” I say.
Forty-five minutes later, the venue is packed full of players, Storm staff, and donors.
Rick wasn’t lying when he said my photo booth was going to be a hit. I set it up to be self-service, but I’ve still been sure to check in on it every few minutes. Between that and taking candid pictures of the event with my own camera, I’ve been kept busy, which I can’t complain about.
I finally take a moment to myself, grabbing a glass of water from the bar and settling at a high table off to the side. I take a few large gulps from my glass as I look around the room. Everyone is mingling and seeming to have a great time, and the donation ticker continues to rise as more and more Texan big wigs donate to the Storm’s charitable fund.
I see movement to my side and watch as Rhett gets a drink from the bar, keeping a smile on his face and a conversation going with three different girls around him at the same time. He turns in my direction as he steps back from the bar, nodding at whatever one of the girls is whispering in his ear. He takes a sip of his drink as he listens to her, and then his eyes catch mine. He raises his chin, grinning as I offer him a small wave. He leans over, saying something to the girl who’s talking to him. I watch her visibly pout at whatever he tells her, but, before she can respond, he’s already walking over to me.
“Hey, Little Dixon.”
“Hey, Rhett,” I reply, raising a brow.
“What?” he asks.
“I don’t think your friend is too happy you ditched her.”
