Page 45 of Dirty Deal (Slayers Hockey 5)

I turn and stalk to the wall before turning back.

Nora’s shoulders slump, and all the fight seems to drain out of her.

“I didn’t want to go out with Drake.”

“Then why did you?”

She gives me a half-smile and my own words back to me, softly. A little sad. “You know why.”

I do. We both do.

I reach for her hand and pull her into my chest. We’ve gotten good at this, and she rests her head over my heart as my arms come around her back.

I don’t want to let her go. But above that, I don’t want to hold her back. I don’t want to complicate an already complicated situation even more.

“How about this. I’ll keep my shirt on from now on.”

From within the circle of my arms, she peers up at me with an assessing look. “There wasn’t any stain?”

I brush a hand over the thick, dark waves of her hair, closing my fingers around them rather than letting them go. “Grady told me to do it. I was stupidly seeking advice from a teammate on how not to kill your date.”

Her soft huff of amusement penetrates my shirt, warming the skin beneath. “And he told you to take your shirt off?”

“It’s complicated.”

* * *

Nora

I can’t sleep.It’s close to one, and I’ve given up even trying. Otto won’t need a bottle for another couple hours, and here I am, staring at Damien in the dim light of my phone’s clock screen.

I didn’t get Stella out of her drawer tonight, don’t want to think about her. Instead, I’m staring at the outstretched arms of my plant of potential. One more inch on that vine on the right, and I’ll be able to put another hook up, letting him reach even farther. I wonder how far he’ll stretch before I have to leave for Paris.

I blink, my throat suddenly tight with the realization Damien won’t come with me. I might be able to bring a cutting. Maybe. But it won’t be Damien. Not really. It will be a fresh start for us both. It’s what I’ve been waiting for. But the more I think about it, the worse I feel. I hate the idea of leaving behind what I’ve started here.

I’m thinking about Axel and what’s been growing between us these past two months. Friendship and trust and that ill-fated attraction. I’m thinking about that horrible date tonight and the feel of Axel’s arms around me.

I’m thinking how tired I am of waiting for my life to finally begin.

My heart starts to beat harder, my mind beginning to reel.

And then I’m climbing out of bed and moving into the hall toward his door. I raise my hand to knock, drawing back at the last second. What am I doing? We’ve talked about this. Am I really considering suggesting something short-term? I don’t want to be like Drake, but— but nothing.

My fingers tingle from the absence of contact, but Axel’s got a game tomorrow night. The man needs to sleep, not some late-night visit from his son’s nanny.

I take a breath and turn to go, but his door opens before I make it a step. Oh God, what am I doing here? He’s bare-chested, his hair in sexy disarray. Eyes alert and focused on me, like maybe I wasn’t the only one awake. Why does that make me shiver?

He doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t ask what I want.

Just takes my hand in the warm grasp of his and pulls me into his room.

And I follow.

I don’t ask what he’s doing when his fingers slide into my hair or tell him we should stop when the hand still holding mine folds behind my back. I don’t wonder if we’re making a mistake when our bodies meet and his mouth touches mine.

I know we are. Just like I know I can’t stop what’s happening any more than he can.

We kiss. A gentle press of lips that somehow feels like equal parts relief and desperation. Like the perfectnowand the need for more.

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