Page 110 of Knot your Good Girl

“But I couldn’t. You know that. I told you.”

My cell buzzes against my waist. I drag it out of my suit jacket pocket and look at the screen. “I need to go. I’m working.”

“I’ll pick up when you finish. We need to talk more about this.”

“We don’t have much else to say.”

“We have everything to say.”

Chapter 34

Holly

Thepressroomisjam-packed when I return.

A baby cries as journalists question the players about their performance in the game. One of the players, Lucas Hilton, stands and takes the baby.

I smile as he rocks the child in his arms.

The pretty journalist takes a picture of him, but he turns away and walks to the table and takes a seat beside the Captain, Stanton Adams, who coos over the baby too.

At the other side of Stanton is the team’s defenseman ice-man, Carver Sinclair and his brother, rookie Colton Sinclair. Each man has been pivotal in today’s win over the Los Angeles Raiders.

The door opens as Oliver Bradley, Uri Finton and Elliot Fields stride into the room and soon the journalists are grilling each team.

I’m not taking in much of the conversation as I stride to the window, opening it to dispel the alpha pheromones that are coating the air.

I know it isn’t the players’ scents that are making my slick run because nobody else affects me like Aiden does. He makes my senses go into overdrive and for my body to feel like it is pulsing with need.

I’m angry with myself for reacting to him like this when I really want to hate him.

“Is the rumor of you heading to New York correct, Elliot?” the pretty reporter with black hair and perfect pale skin asks.

The owner of the team, Pierre Dupont, takes the microphone and addresses her. “I’m not sure where you got your information, Miss...”

She doesn’t answer.

And I wait for him to continue, but Aiden appears from nowhere. I stand back as he strides to the stage; he looks at the baby in Lucas’ arms before he takes the child and his place at the edge of the table.

His butt leans against the side, ankles crossed. He strokes the baby on her cheek with his fingertip and my ovaries burst.

My breathing is heavy and our eyes lock as he glances at me as I stand at the side of the room before Pierre hands him the microphone, which he takes with his free hand.

The blinding flash of the camera hints at the media frenzy that will surround him in the coming days.

As everyone waits, he tilts his head back, his eyes scanning the ceiling above.

There’s an eerie silence taking over the room. People hush behind their hands as the players shrug to each other.

My gaze hasn’t moved from him, and I’m wondering whose baby it is, when Pierre holds out his arms and takes her.

I’m waiting for Aiden to say something about the game, or about Elliot moving to New York, but he says, “I can’t wait until later to tell you...” His eyes find mine and I watch as he swallows.

The sudden flash of a camera momentarily blinds me.

As I blink rapidly, he continues talking without missing a beat. “I can’t wait until later to tell you how I feel about you. I can’t wait until later to tell you I feel the same way about you that you do me.”

I gasp.

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