But then he’d seen Olivia on the dance floor. He’d seen the momentary flash of hurt before she’d put up an emotional screen.
He was wrong, she wasn’t Pandora’s box. She was the sun, and he was Icarus, flying too close even though he knew better. “I don’t like hearing you talk this way,” he said, reaching his hand toward her cheek. He wanted to touch her, even though he knew he couldn’t have her.
Olivia pulled away, out of his reach. “Well, you don’t have to stand and listen to me.”
Anders ran his hand through his hair, tugging at the edges. She was right. One hundred percent completely right. He reached for her hand again, linking her fingers with his. Relief flooded him when she let him this time. “I’m sorry. Can we start this whole thing over again?”
Olivia looked over his shoulder, deliberately avoiding his gaze.
With a gentle tug, he pulled her toward him. “Liv?”
Her eyes turned to his finally. “I wasn’t prepared to see you again, that’s all. Seeing you here with someone else stung.”
Unable to resist her, he placed his hand on her neck, pulling her even closer. He could feel her warmth, could feel her breasts pressed up against his chest, and remembered the way sucking on them had caused her to clench around his cock in pleasure.
“I wasn’t prepared to see you, either, Liv. But I can’t say I hadn’t thought about us, thought about you, since Christmas.”
When she looked up at him through those dark lashes, he momentarily imagined what it would be like to take her home. For the two of them to make love and fuck over every surface in the goddamn place so she understood just what she already meant to him.
“You did?”
“Yeah. Impossible not to. You are very unforgettable, Liv.”
He doubted she was even aware of it, but she’d slid her hand inside his jacket, stroking his side. “Being with you that night changed me in a good way, Anders.”
The world seemed to slow around them. The volume quieted. In another time and place, it would be perfect. Him. Her. The connection they had.
“Tell me,” he said, huskily.
She looked down for a moment before taking a deep breath and looking at him again. “You could come home with me and I could show you.”
His erection ached for her. And the idea of a whole night with her, spending it deep inside her, teasing out orgasm after orgasm, on the back of the game he’d played, would be absolute perfection.
But he needed to focus, which seemed impossible given the woman in front of him. And he had a day of rest before travel for the next game. Fuck, he hated this.
“Liv, I can’t. I have a game on—”
“Sure. No. I get it. Busy season, right.” She stepped out of his arms. He felt the loss of her immediately.
“Let me explain.”
Olivia looked away from him. “No, I understand. Wait. What was I thinking? You should get back to your date.”
“I just met her,” Anders said by way of explanation. “I don’t even know her last name, a friend of my sister-in-law. A setup and nothing more. I don’t owe her shit. But you . . .”
“Me, what?”
He tugged at the tie the team had insisted they wear, sliding it around his neck as he muttered a curse under his breath. He wrapped an end around each hand and threw it over her shoulders, using it to pull her back to him.
Olivia held her ground and Anders tugged tighter, wrapping the length of the tie around one hand then the other until she was flush against him.
“I can’t do this now. I can’t play my best on the ice if I am distracted off it.”
“But you’d go home with her?” Olivia asked, lines etching her forehead.
He hated that he felt the need to explain his baser instincts. “Sex is not a relationship, Liv. And you are so much more than a one-night stand.”
She pushed against him, but with the tie holding her arms by her sides, it was ineffective. “Apparently, I’m not. Because that is all we had. Good to know, Anders.”
Goddamn, the woman. He didn’t know how to make it clear. “You are so far from the truth, Liv. That night was way more than meaningless sex. We connected and you know it. That’s why it’s been impossible to stop thinking about you. You don’t want to know how many times I’ve sought release to images of you in that fucking bed that wasn’t even mine. But I can’t waste energy off the ice that I should be expending on it right now. This is my shot, Liv. This is the time in my career I dreamed about. But believe me, if I could be with anyone, it would be you.”
He slammed his lips to her mouth, his tongue seeking hers. He let go of his tie and threaded his fingers through her hair, holding him to her, seeking more than he had any right to ask for. More than he had any right to take.
She tasted as good as he remembered. The soft gasp of hers turned him on.
Then she placed both hands on his chest and shoved him hard. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to tell me I’m not good enough to sleep with, and then kiss me like I am. It’s not fair.”
Anders dragged his hand through his hair. “För helvete,” he cursed. “Det är inte vad jag sa.”
“I have no idea what that means, but I’m leaving now.”
Shit.
“I said that’s . . .damn, I don’t think fast in English. I said it’s not . . .what I’m thinking. Meaning. Liv. You don’t get it. If I had the capacity for a relationship . . .or even the skills for one . . .I’d be testing them with you. But I don’t. I can’t. It’s not fair to you or me.”
“Iceberg!” Two young men walked over, the first reached for Anders’s hand and shook it. “Wow. Great game, tonight. Can I get a photo with you?”
“I’m in the middle of something,” he said, gesturing toward Olivia. He could see her take a step back. Then another.
“It’ll only take a minute.” The guy stood at his side and held out his phone.
“Liv, wait.” He held out his hand toward her, encouraging her to stay where she was.
“Say, cheese.”
Anders looked at the camera, knowing full well he wasn’t smiling. But he’d just arrived in the city. The last thing he needed were rumors floating around that he was a jerk if you met him in person. “Thanks, guys,” he said, shaking their hands before he turned to find Olivia.
She’d disappeared. Disappointment flooded him.
Why? You know you can’t have her.
She was right, it was unfair.
And while he could curse the men for interrupting them, it was for the best.
He just had to convince the gnawing doubt deep in his chest that it was true.
4
“Thanks for staying late with me,” Connor said, packing up his things. “I think you’ve made incredible progress with the Dyer’s Vintage campaign.”
Connor’s warm words of praise filled her. After all, the man had an MBA from Harvard and a successful career as an executive in the liquor industry. While he was only six years older than she was, he had a wealth of experience, and she was enjoying learning from him. Since their father’s death, beyond the obvious sense of loss of a parent, she’d also lost a mentor and coach. Coming back into the business, she was looking to have impact, but also boost her skills.
Plus, Connor made her sister so darn happy, which made Olivia like him even more. So, when he’d asked if she’d bring him up to speed on where the campaign was at, she’d been more than happy to stay late to fill him in.
She stretched her arms toward the ceiling as she let out a yawn. Staying up the last few nights to get the project to where it needed to be had left her low on energy. “I’m glad you like it. Do you think it will help build the distribution channels?”
“I’m hopeful. And it’s good for me to know where products are growing and evolving. Thanks for filling me in. Emerson’s cooking dinner. Want to swing by and join us?”
While she loved the idea of the two of them as a couple, watching them be a couple did little to h
elp balance her moods. And, boy, were those moods polarizing. Envy at what Connor and Emerson had found—a love that was vibrant and rounder and more vital than anything else. Fear that no man, certainly right now, would take on the work-in-progress she had become as she stumbled out of the period of depression that had enveloped her. Relief that she didn’t have to put energy she didn’t have and couldn’t spare into a fledgling relationship.
Anders.
Damn.
She couldn’t think about Valentine’s Day. Over the last forty-eight hours, she had to remind herself to not focus on how good he’d looked, or how the feel of his hands on her body again had lit a fire deep inside her. And she most definitely wouldn’t consider his little speech about how she was more than he could deal with.
She was fed up with being more than everyone had to deal with.
“Liv. Dinner? Do you want to come over?”
Olivia shook her head to clear her thoughts and to refuse. “Thanks, but I’m going to reheat leftovers and then bed.” She was certain there was a portion of the turkey chili she’d made at the weekend left in the fridge. Somewhere.
“Not happening,” Connor said. “I’ll call Charles and get you something to go. My treat. Pick it up on your way. You like the black cod, right?”
“I’ve never been happier that my hopefully-soon-to-be-brother-in-law owns a restaurant. If it’s not too much trouble, I would love that. I didn’t know Charles did takeout.”
Connor laughed. “I’m going to ignore the blatant hint that I should propose. He doesn’t, but seeing as he kicked my ass in poker last week, I think he owes me one.”
Twenty minutes later, she pushed the doors to the restaurant open. The scent of ginger and the sound of sizzling skillets greeted her, and her mouth immediately began to water.
“Do you have a reservation?” the greeter asked politely.
“I don’t. I’m just picking something up to go. It’s Olivia. Connor Finch called it in.”
“One moment and I’ll go check for you.”
Olivia looked down at her phone. Nearly nine o’clock. She could be finished with dinner and in bed before ten.
“Hey, Liv. I didn’t know you ate here. How are you?” Sarah, Anders’s sister-in-law, looked flawless in a tastefully fitted black dress.
Olivia wondered how she maintained such perfectly glowing skin. “Sarah,” she said, hugging her warmly. “It’s my sister’s partner’s place, I’m just waiting to pick up my dinner. Did you like the write-up in Simply Weddings?”
“Wasn’t it perfect? The distillery looked beautiful.”
“But no match for the bride. You looked stunning.”
Sarah grinned. “Thank you. Hey, come sit with us while you wait for your food.”
With a hand on her arm, Sarah didn’t wait for an answer before she dragged her to her table.
“Karl, look who’s here. And do you remember Anders from the wedding?”
Olivia’s heart dropped, bounced off the high-gloss floor, and resituated itself uncomfortably in her chest.
“Hey, Liv. Thanks again for such a great evening for our wedding.” Karl stood and hugged her, and Olivia responded mechanically. “Anders told us about the kitchen issue. I hope the caterers are okay.”
“They’re both great. Doria had a concussion and Anne needed surgery, but it’s all good. I’m glad you felt your experience wasn’t ruined by it.” She was rambling and knew it.
She looked at Anders, taking in his messy blond hair and intense stare. His navy sweater looked buttery soft and fit his frame to perfection.
“Hey, Anders.”
He nodded in her direction. It was polite.
It hurt.
She hadn’t expected him to stand and declare his undying love over a half-finished noodle bowl. But the cold indifference was painful.
“Anyway,” she said as brightly as she could muster. “I see my food’s ready. I’ll leave you to your dinner.”
Ignoring the slightly confused looks on Karl’s and Sarah’s faces, and the disregard in Anders’s, she hurried to the greeter to take her bag and leave.
Goddamn, this was why one-night stands didn’t work for her, even if the one night she and Anders had spent together had been nothing short of glorious.
She tugged her scarf up around her ears to keep out the cold as she furiously hammered the button for the light on the crosswalk.
Asshole.
He’d succeeded in ruining her memory of the wonderful night they’d spent together. A night that had reminded her she was human. That she was a woman with needs. That there were still parts of her that weren’t broken. He hadn’t treated her like she was fragile.
The events and memories of that night had already taken on a most wonderfully dreamlike quality.
Olivia shook her head to clear her thoughts. Why did it even bother her so much? It wasn’t like she wanted anything more from him. He was nothing more than a fantasy. He was the kind of guy that romance books were written about. Girl next door swept off her feet by brooding hockey hero. But the last thing she needed was to be swept into the media spotlight that swirled around hockey players like a snowstorm.
The lights changed and she stepped across the street. Another block and she’d be home with Charles’s awesome black cod and the first murder mystery she could find to watch.
A hand gripped her arm as she stepped onto the curb. Her mind flashed to the morning in the distillery parking lot when Robert Harding had grabbed her.
Without thought, she spun around, fist clenched.
Anders ducked, but her fist still glanced off the side of his jaw. “Steady there, kämpe.”
“Shit. Anders.” Olivia’s heart raced and she struggled to put the pieces together of how she’d gone from walking to fright to fight. She let Anders lead her farther onto the sidewalk. “I thought you were a mugger. Why would you scare me like that?”
“I’m sorry.” His blue eyes were filled with concern. “I didn’t mean to. That’s some right hook you’ve got.” He ran his fingers along the edge of his jaw.
Olivia placed a hand over her chest. “You don’t just walk up on a woman and grab her arm, Anders. Did nobody ever tell you that?”
“I called your name. I guess I just assumed you heard.”
She looked down at the food she’d been carrying. Thankfully, it survived the swing. “What does sham-peh mean, anyway?” she asked, attempting to sound out the obviously Swedish word.
“Kämpe? It’s short for slagskämpe . . .someone who is a champion fighter.”
“Funny,” Olivia said, not feeling all that amused. Whenever she was around him, the air always felt charged with energy. “What did you want?”
“Not a fist to the chin, for sure.”
Olivia turned and walked in the direction of her apartment.
“Liv,” Anders called out. “I’m sorry. Wait.”
She didn’t, she kept walking. It took a moment for Anders to realize she had no intention of stopping before he jogged to her side.
“Please. Let me at least walk you home. It’s late.”
“As you pointed out, I have a mean right hook and have walked by myself enough times to know what I’m doing.”
Anders dragged a hand through his hair. “Jävlar!”
She wasn’t sure what the word meant, but from the tone she was pretty sure it was an expletive. The idea that she had ruffled the feathers of the player who was nicknamed Iceberg made her smirk.
“Liv. You’re driving me crazy.”
She stopped and turned to face him. “You know what, Anders? I’m not doing too great, either. What happened at Christmas was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. I’ve thought of that night fondly. It was a turning point for me, and you were the person who saw me. Saw me. Not the person everyone else was seeing. And now you’re back when you aren’t supposed to be, only now you’re this whole other person. Mercurial. Telling me you can’t do this. Did you chase me down the street to tell me all ov
er again? Because I get it. So you can go back to the restaurant and finish your dinner and let me reconcile that you aren’t who I thought you were.”
Olivia’s words hit him harder than her fist had done. They knocked him off balance and he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. Where was his cool demeanor, his ability to think under pressure, to see where every situation was headed? The skills he relied on in life and on the ice seemed to have deserted him. One minute in Olivia’s presence and he turned into an indecisive idiot who was as surly as he was expressive.
He wished he could take an eraser to every moment since he got back to Denver and start all over again with a bunch of fresh spring flowers and a smile.
Because, despite his best intentions to focus on hockey, his thoughts were on her anyway. And if he was already fucking distracted by her, he might as well be with her and enjoy the plus side of her company.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
Shock filled Olivia’s eyes, her mouth opened to say something, but then closed quickly as if she thought better of it.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been clear with you. I’m the same guy, Liv. You aren’t the only one who was able to be the person they wanted to be that night. You didn’t see me as a hockey player, or a rich guy, or one of the Berg brothers. You saw me as a guy who could take care of you.”
“Walk with me and help me understand what happened.” Olivia turned and headed up the street away from the restaurant, where Karl and Sarah were probably wondering why the hell he upped and ran after the distillery event planner.
“You want the full version, or the summary?”
“The full version.”
“I’m at a turning point in my career. A big one. I was drafted first overall, but to a team I didn’t want to play for. It was full of veterans, so little room to grow. As a rookie, it was hard to influence the style and speed of play. It suited them, not me. But I worked hard, stayed healthy, outlasted many of them. But without the right investment in rebuilding and coaching staff, we were never going to win.”
He reached for her gloved hand and felt a wave of relief as she closed her fingers around his. “That must have been really frustrating.”
Love In Moments: An opposites attract hockey romance (Love Distilled Book 2) Page 6