by Piper Rayne
Gia thrusts a water bottle in my hands. “Can you spray him down?”
I make the mistake of looking at Aiden, who smirks as if he’s loving this entire situation.
“Payback is a bitch,” I remind him.
“Hey, I’ll spray you down anytime you want. Just ask.”
I shake my head. “You’re incorrigible.”
“And you love it.”
God help me, but he speaks only the truth. I spritz water on his chest, and it makes his skin glisten like a juicy apple. Man, do I want to take a bite.
“All over, Saige,” Gia says.
Why exactly can’t she do this?
Aiden spreads out his arms.
I spray it on his shoulders, down his abs, and his stomach retracts a bit. “Is it cold?”
“A little.”
“Worried about shrinkage?” I grin.
“Not with you around.”
“Aiden!” I whisper-shout.
“Relax, I’m just having fun with you.”
Little does he know his fun is making my lady parts clench so hard I could crack a walnut down there.
After I spray him all over—even his stunning face with those damn pouty lips that are now pink and inviting—I back up and take a picture with the spray bottle in the foreground. Then I do a video of my hand spritzing him. He’s so photogenic he probably could’ve been a model if hockey wasn’t his thing.
“All right, let’s get started,” the director says.
I sit in a chair off to the side, and it only takes Aiden five takes before he’s done. We both say thank you to everyone, then we’re walking down the hallway toward the locker room.
“I’ll wait outside,” I say once we reach the door.
“You don’t have to be shy. It’s only a dick. I’m not naïve enough to think it’s the first one you’ve ever seen.” He opens the door and holds it there.
“Of course not. Not that I’ve seen a ton. I mean, I’m not a virgin, but at the same time, I don’t…” His laughing spurs me to stop speaking. I point at him. “Just go change and I’ll wait out here for you.”
“Gotcha.” He shuts the door and my back falls to the wall in defeat.
He doesn’t yet, but if we keep up this flirting, he just might have me, and that poses a big problem, at least for me.
Chapter Thirteen
Aiden
I take Saige to my favorite juice bar in Denver. She seems impressed I’d actually go to one and can decipher the menu.
“Want to walk for a while?” I ask.
“You never want to be in the hotel room, huh?” She sips her drink, opting for something with a lot of fruit.
“I get bored, and when I sit around all day, I always have a shitty game.” I turn us toward a park so that I have less of a chance of being recognized.
“That makes sense. I should snap a candid of you enjoying your juice before the game.” She takes out her phone. “Pose?”
“Do you want duck lips?”
She laughs and snaps the picture of me with duck lips, my juice straw sticking out of the side of my mouth.
“Why don’t we take one together?” I suggest.
She shuts down the phone and puts it in her purse. “Nope.”
“Why not?”
“I’m still building your fan base and most of them right now are women. Women who want to date you.”
“And?” I take another sip of my juice.
“And you’re not a dumb jock, Aiden, you know exactly why.” She sips her juice and continues walking, looking up at the bare trees.
“Why don’t you enlighten me?”
She gives me an expression that says, “Come on, you don’t need me to explain it to you.” But explain she does. “Women don’t want to see you with another woman.”
“But you’re just a friend,” I say—to be truthful, it’s just to see her reaction.
She looks at me quizzically. “You consider me a friend?”
I put my arm around her shoulders. “Of course. Do you not consider me a friend?”
She rolls her eyes and weaves out of my hold. “I thought I was your bitch.” She smiles at me and finishes off her juice, tossing the cup in a nearby trash can.
I chuckle. “Oh, you’re not my bitch. And you are my friend whether I’m yours or not.”
“Don’t act like I’ve offended you.”
I slow my footsteps, finishing my juice and tossing it in the trash too. “You did a little. There aren’t a lot of people I put in that category.”
“Well, don’t I feel like an asshole now. Why would you put me in that category?”
I glance over from the corner of my eye to not make it obvious how much she intrigues me. How much I enjoy sharing something like this—a walk in the park—with her and how it’s something I’d enjoy doing every day. But she’s involved with someone—my agent—so I can’t lay my cards out like that.
“When you brought that bottle of wine down to the Fury arena and used Joran to get to the locker room to see me, you moved into the friend zone. You didn’t have to do that, but you did.”
“We made a deal,” she says simply.
I shake my head. “Not at that point. I’d stopped at your office on my way down to the game, prepared to ask you to throw the drink in my face, but I didn’t go in.”
“You did?” Her forehead wrinkles.
I nod. “I thought I shouldn’t put any more pressure on you. I mean, what do you owe me?”
She swivels around to walk backward so she can look at me. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Depends,” I say warily.
“How hard is it being a professional athlete? I mean, I think everyone on the outside sees only the perks. Since I handle the social media for a lot of athletes, I see the flip side at times, but even I think it has to all be worth it.” She turns back around and walks at my side.
“Ever since I can remember, this is where I wanted to be. In the national league, skating. Not for the money, although yeah, it’s nice. But because I couldn’t imagine doing anything else. But the road to get here was hard and full of ups and downs, and there are never any guarantees. You lose track of friends and teammates because of trades. Maksim and Ford are probably my best friends, but if I get traded to another team, it’s like starting all over again. Eventually we’re just saying a quick hello before a game or catching up afterward. And the guys with families have it worse. When they get traded, they have to upend their entire families. Their kids leave their schools and their friends. It’s rough for everyone.”
She winds her arm through mine and rests her cheek on my shoulder as though it’s a natural thing we do all the time. “Surely you have friends who aren’t professional hockey players?”
“Friends who are ex-hockey players. Since most of my time growing up was spent playing, most of my friends existed in that world too. The majority of them didn’t make it to the professional level and are married now. When I go home, I visit and stuff, but it’s not like they can understand what my day-to-day life is like. All they see are the perks, like you do.” When she doesn’t respond right away, I say, “First world problems, I know. But they’re problems just the same.”
It wasn’t my intention to have this “woe is me” conversation with Saige, but she doesn’t think what she did for me that night was a big deal. It absolutely was, because she expected nothing in return.
“I have a confession,” she says, removing herself from my side. I inwardly groan when she’s not next to me anymore.
“Do I want to know?”
“You’re nothing like I imagined. That night at the party, I thought you were just some cocky guy hitting on me even though you knew I was there with someone else. But right now, you seem like the polar opposite of that guy.”
I nod. “I’m still a ‘see what I want, take it’ kind of guy. That doesn’t go away. It’s how I got into the NHL. Not accepting the word no. Never giving up hope. But I hope you feel like I’ve respected
your situation with Joran since I found out.”
She looks at me and tilts her head down. “You do flirt.”
“True, and if you want me to stop, I will. Just say the word. But know that I’m not doing it to cause problems between you and Joran. It just seems like the default way we communicate.”
She’s quiet. I think she’s gonna ask me to stop and I’ll never see that pink flush to her cheeks again, but she never says anything. It would never be my intention to try to steal Joran’s girl, but what is he thinking, leaving her with me so much? There’s no way he can’t see how she’s not the type of girl who comes around twice in a lifetime. Surely Saige wants someone more attentive, and even if that guy can’t be me, I hate seeing some guy treat her badly—even if it is my agent.
“Oh my god!” Saige screeches and grabs my arm, pulling me down onto a nearby bench.
It’s cold as fuck and my ass rejects the metal, but I ease back down when Saige hovers her face in front of mine so that the back of her head is facing the path. I hear laughter from a couple walking by us, and Saige’s breath is fast and labored. She closes her eyes when the guy talks, and when she opens them again, her expression pleads with me not to say anything. As if I would. The only better position would be her straddling me and her lips actually on mine.
Once the couple has passed, she pulls back. “Thank you,” she mumbles.
“No problem. Care to explain?” I stretch out on the bench, putting my arm behind her.
She stares in the direction the couple went. “That was my ex, Jeremy.”
My head swivels to try to catch sight of the bastard who let her slip through his fingers, but the path curves around some shrubbery and all I catch is their laughter. “Does he live here in Denver?”
She shrugs. “I don’t really know. After we broke up, I promised I’d never look up anything about him and I’ve adhered to that.”
“Hmm.” I frown at the look of discontent on Saige’s face.
She nods. “Yeah, let’s go.” She tugs at my jacket and stands.
I rise off the bench, but the same laughter from before rings closer. Saige’s eyes widen.
“Want to throw me on the bench again? Maybe this time we could actually make out?”
She playfully pushes me, grabs my hand, and tugs me down the path.
“Saige?” a deep voice filled with curiosity says from behind us.
She stops and stares straight ahead, unblinking for a moment, drawing in a deep breath. She doesn’t even have to ask; I lower my hand and entwine our fingers.
Circling back around, I’m not prepared for the man standing there to be almost as big as me. Hell, he might have a few more muscles than me. The girl at his side looks similar to Saige except she’s a strawberry-blonde. Nevertheless, they look like a happy couple.
“Jeremy?” Saige says with faux surprise.
We all move closer to each other, and holy shit, I do a double take. Her ex-boyfriend is Jeremy Danders? The wide receiver for the Packers?
“Whoa, talk about crazy.” He steps away from the girl and wraps Saige in a hug. “It’s been so long. You still in Waterfall Springs?”
“Yeah.” Saige backs up as soon as is polite.
“I heard you’ve made a success out of that social media thing.”
She nods.
I clear my throat, and not waiting for Saige, I stick out my hand. “Aiden Drake.”
“The hockey player?” he asks.
I nod. “We’re playing Colorado tonight. Saige comes with me to a lot of the away games.”
“Really? I thought you NHL players shared rooms.”
“We do. I put Saige up in her own.” I link our hands again.
Jeremy’s gaze shifts to Saige. She doesn’t say anything but squeezes my hand, presumably in thanks. This is the least I could do for her.
The girl says his name in a sweet tone, and he shakes his head. “Oh, sorry, this is Olivia.”
“His fiancée,” Olivia adds, taking off her left glove and raising her hand. There sits a sizable engagement ring.
A strangled sound comes from Saige. I try my best to save her, but I’m thinking Jeremy might not only be an ex, but the ex who broke her.
“Congratulations,” I say. “So are you still playing for the Packers?”
I don’t follow football religiously, mostly because our seasons overlap and I’m too focused on my own to watch football.
“Rumor is I might be traded here. We decided to make a weekend of it to see if we like the area. Hence how we’re lost in a park somewhere.” He looks at Olivia and they both laugh.
Shit, they’re the real deal. Saige’s hand goes limp in mine at witnessing their interaction.
“That sucks,” I say.
“Not really, we’d rather be here with the mountains than in Green Bay,” Olivia chimes in.
“Except that the fans love me up there. More than in Florida, that is.” He sets his gaze on Saige and I wonder what the story is there. “Hey, I know this is crazy, but why don’t we all get together for dinner tonight?”
“Can’t,” Saige is quick to say. “Aiden has a game.”
“Game?” Olivia asks.
“I—”
“He plays for the Florida Fury. Hockey,” Saige says before I can respond.
“You always did love the athletes.” I don’t think Jeremy meant it as a slam, but it kind of comes off as one.
Saige looks away. “We should go. Aiden needs to get ready for the game and everything. Nice seeing you, and congratulations.”
I’m about to say congratulations when she twists me around and we walk in a direction I’m not familiar with.
“Wait!” Jeremy calls. “How about a nightcap? We’re always up late anyway. It’d be nice to catch up.”
What is this guy’s problem? He’s clearly moved on, so why doesn’t he leave it alone?
“Um…” Saige looks at me.
I kind of like this fake boyfriend role I’ve found myself in, so I make a snap decision. “Sure. How about I leave some tickets for you guys at will call, then after the game, we’ll be at a bar called Giggling Grizzly.”
“Oh, you know how tired you get after a game,” Saige says like a concerned girlfriend.
I shrug. “One drink won’t kill me.”
She sighs and narrows her eyes a bit at me. I kinda love it when she’s a little angry with me. It makes me think of how awesome our sex could be.
“Perfect. We’ll see you then,” Jeremy agrees, and we all walk away from one another.
As soon as we turn a corner and are out of sight, Saige smacks my arm. “Why would you do that?”
“It’ll be fun. Trust me. But I do expect to hear the story about you and Jeremy at some point.”
She groans. “A friend wouldn’t put me in this position.”
I put my arm around her. “Sure they would, because this is going to close that door on Jeremy for good. And something tells me that’s what you need.”
Chapter Fourteen
Saige
Sitting in the stands of the arena, I throw my head back in annoyance once again that Aiden agreed to drinks with Jeremy and his fiancée tonight. Of course this is the first trip that Tedi hasn’t joined me. Not to mention I think the two empty seats to my right are for the happy couple, which pisses me off even more because Aiden got them the seats. It’s one thing when he’ll be next to me, but another when he’s on the ice.
Plus, I usually try to distract myself at his games because he looks hot as hell skating around, yelling for the puck, scoring like the god he is. I don’t want to have to watch any more of the game than I absolutely have to since he’s already the one I’m thinking of when I touch myself every night.
The teams take the ice for warmups and Aiden steps out, not wearing his helmet, so his sexy face is there for all to admire. And they do. Even though we’re in Colorado, there’s a pretty big fan section for the Fury full of signs with Aiden’s number, women screaming for Ford, and
guys rooting for Maksim.
As they skate by me, each player gives me a wink. Poor Tweetie looks a little lost without Tedi. Hopefully that doesn’t hurt his game.
“Man, these are great seats.” Jeremy folds himself in next to me.
I slide as close as I can to the guy on my other side. Jeremy practically has the entire concession stand in his arms. Olivia, sipping a soda, sits down next to him.
“There’s something kind of mean about hockey. Don’t they fight?” Olivia asks.
“Hell yeah, it’s the best part. Tell Aiden thanks for the seats.” Jeremy looks at me with a genuine smile.
Did I just enter the Twilight Zone? Because when we broke up, I swore I’d never see him again. Yeah, it’s been a few years, but I still harbor ill feelings toward him. How can he not know that? Does he not have any unresolved issues from our breakup? Of course, why would he? He’s the one who broke up with me after moving me across the country.
“Sure,” I say.
A stick hits the partition and scares me so much I almost jump out of my seat. Aiden’s standing on the other side of the glass. Still no helmet.
“There’s Aiden,” Olivia says.
Smart one he’s got there.
“Thanks, these are awesome!” Jeremy yells, pointing at the seat.
Aiden nods and smiles at them. Tonight was the first night I really enjoyed throwing the drink in his face, what with this stunt he pulled.
He crooks his finger at me, and I stand as he mouths “sorry” and points toward the Jumbotron. I narrow my eyes, not understanding what he’s talking about. Then I see a video on the screen of me throwing a drink in Aiden’s face. We did it in front of Maksim tonight and the bastard recorded it.
“All hockey players have superstitions,” it says at the bottom of the screen. “Anyone as curious as us to know how this one started?”
I stare blankly at Aiden. Maksim comes to a stop next to him, laughing his ass off. I shake my head at Maksim, but he pats Aiden on the back to get going. I fall back into my seat and cover my face from embarrassment.