Page 62 of The Rival (Looking to Score 2)
“It’s not what you think—”
Eden clears her throat loudly, interrupting me. “Alex, would you mind giving us a moment? We have to, you know, clean up your mess.”
I take a steadying breath before standing. I breeze past Aspen, desperate to put some space between us as quickly as possible. She was going to find out one way or another, but I wish it didn’t happen like this.
25
* * *
ASPEN
Before entering the rink, I take a bracing breath, focusing on the stands instead of the burly bodies racing across the ice. I usually love watching the guys play, thriving in their element, but lately it’s the last place that I want to be. It may have something to do with all the complicated feelings I have for their starting center.
Les, the front-office manager, waves to me from the sidelines, silver strands in his hair catching the light from the overhead lights. “Aspen. You have my files?”
“Yep. Eden says to reference the budget while you read, which is down at the bottom . . . here.”
I open the application and pass the tablet off to Les, who mutters to himself while navigating the folder to view its contents. He struggles a little with technology, so I usually have to stay close in case he has questions. Sometimes I feel like I’m his assistant too. But I don’t mind helping him, especially since Eden’s ideal working pace is contingent on our tech literacy.
Once I feel like Les has a handle on what he’s looking at, I lean against the rail to give him some space. Out of habit, my gaze wanders to the ice, and I immediately regret it.
A dozen other guys are on the ice warming up, but my gaze locks onto Alex instantly. He’s running drills, his long and lean body equal parts grace and strength. I groan inwardly as I notice the familiar flutter in my chest. Gauging my heart rate and my inability to tear my gaze away, this is the opposite of what I need right now.
Passing the rookie, Alex flashes him an arrogant grin, and all the breath in my lungs seems to evaporate. The echo of his laugh carries across the ice and draws me deep into a memory.
Back at the cabin some months ago, Alex and I were lying naked on the floor in front of the fire, with nothing but a shared fleece blanket between us. I remember him playing with a strand of my hair, tickling my shoulder with it.
“Stop it.” I giggled, burying my face against his chest.
“Should I?” Even though I couldn’t see his expression, I could hear the smirk in his voice. That cocky growl reserved for quiet, skin-to-skin moments.
“Yes,” I said with a chuckle. “But keep holding me, okay?”
“Always,” he whispered, wrapping his solid arms tighter around me, our bodies so warm and comfortable that I forgot for a moment that we were once two separate people.
Now, with yards of cold air between us, it’s never been clearer how separate we really are.
“I’m all done,” Les says, appearing at my side. “Thanks for your help. These contraptions are going to be the death of me, I swear.”
I smile, taking the tablet. “I’ll upload it all to the cloud so you can have access to it whenever you want, okay?”
“I’ve never thought of clouds as particularly accessible, but . . .” He grins at me with a twinkle in his eye, and I chuckle, giving him a nod before I turn back toward the exit.
“Hey. Aspen, hold up!” Alex’s voice cuts through the scrape of skates against the ice.
I think about pretending not to hear him and hurrying toward the door to make a swift escape. But I don’t want the team to notice that anything’s off. So instead, I stop in the shadowy alcove and wait until Alex joins me. His cheeks are flushed with exertion, his blue eyes bright. He brushes sweat-soaked hair from his forehead.
“Hey,” I manage to say, hugging the tablet close to my chest.
“Thanks for stopping by. It’s good to see you.”
“Yeah, of course. Do you need something?”
“Ah, no, actually,” he grunts outs. “I was wondering if you need anything. You know, for the new place? Is there anything I could help you with?”
A rogue smile pulls at the corner of my mouth, but I quickly hide it by tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’ve got a good setup. Thanks, though.”
“Of course. You know you can call me if you need anything, right? Like when your car broke down, I would have been happy to . . . Aspen, can you look at me?”
I reluctantly meet his gaze, despite the fact that I know I’m a goner under those blue eyes. As expected, they do their work on me, shining slivers of light through the cracks in the invisible wall between us.
