Love In Moments: An opposites attract hockey romance (Love Distilled Book 2)

by Scarlett Cole

  Just as he finished in the bathroom, the doorbell rang. A ripple of excitement moved through him.

  He jogged back down the stairs, opened the door, and was greeted by Olivia, her cheeks all flushed from the frigid air. Her hair was pulled back from her face, one hand tucked into the pockets of her long down coat, the other holding a sports bag.

  Her eyes ran up and down his body, and then she bit her lip. “Good morning.”

  Yeah, she was still just as fucking pretty. “Morning, kämpe.”

  When she stepped up to him, he slid his hands to her face, cupping her cheeks, and kissed her—which was nowhere near close to what he wanted to do to her, yet still somehow managed to be everything. Her hazel eyes fluttered shut as she sighed.

  With a gentle nudge, he pushed her into the hallway. “I’m going to need you to keep those lips away from me for the rest of the time you’re here, or else I’m not going to fit into my jock when I get to the rink.”

  “Your rules, remember?” Olivia grinned as she placed her bag on the floor and unzipped her coat.

  “Fuck, Liv. That’s seriously not going to help.”

  As she slipped her arms out of the sleeves, he took in the navy blue sports bra and leggings that had a neon pink trim.

  “You like it?” Being the helpful woman she was, she did a little twirl, a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree spin so he could check out every inch of her.

  He laughed dryly. “I’m trying not to look too closely. Jock. Rink. Game later. Remember.”

  “I have a meeting at work at nine and was hoping I could shower here before I leave, if that’s okay? Is two hours enough time for us to do what you have planned?”

  Anders rubbed his hand over his chin. “Yeah, but you are also going to need to stop asking questions that could be answered with any number of innuendos.”

  “Innuendos?” She tilted her head toward him, and he had visions of stepping forward and running a line of kisses up the side of her neck.

  “Yeah, like two hours is nowhere near enough for what I have planned. Or when I have you in my bed again, it’s going to be for a lot longer than two hours. And yes, showering is fine, but I can’t think about you naked in my shower.”

  Olivia grinned and, like sunshine, her smile lit up the hall. “Sorry. Well, sort of sorry.”

  He took her hand. “Come on, let’s go work out.”

  “Would it be easier on your . . . erm . . . jock, rink, game situation if we left this for another day?”

  “Now I’ve seen you in workout gear, I’m going to be thinking about you in it anyway. Might as well see the real thing rather than imagine it. I’m just going to be mean with your workout so you end up in as much pain as I am right now.”

  Forty-five minutes later, as he cycled to loosen up his legs, he didn’t think it was possible. Her back was pressed against the inclined weight bench, and every time she lowered the dumbbells, her chest would look so fucking perky, and it took everything he had to not go bury his face between her breasts.

  Sweat gave her skin a soft sheen. Olivia’s fitness was fine given the inconsistency of her exercise and food habits over the last year, but he could hear her frustration in the way she talked about herself.

  “I’m done,” she gasped, and flopped down on the mats he’d laid out on the floor for them.

  Anders hopped off the bike and crawled over her. “Not quite,” he said, lowering himself in a push-up to kiss her, then returning to hold a plank.

  “No,” she groaned. “What evil torture do you have planned next?”

  He repeated the push-up, kissing her chastely again. “Stretching.”

  He plank-walked onto his own mat, then lay down. “Those baby muscles of yours are going to ache tomorrow. We need them loose.”

  Olivia tilted her head toward him. “You want my muscles nice and loose?”

  “Liv,” he warned.

  “Sorry.” Her laughter told him she was anything but.

  By the time they’d finished stretching, he was in half a mind to fuck his rules and join Olivia in the shower. Instead, he took a quick shower of his own while trying not to think of her in the guest bathroom down the hall. Once done, he busied himself with breakfast. Eggs. Bacon. Toast. While things were cooking, he poured yogurt into two dishes and chopped fruit to go on top. When Olivia joined him, there was also freshly squeezed orange juice and a carafe of coffee on the counter.

  “I didn’t think about a hair dryer,” she said. “Do you have one?”

  Anders shook his head. “Sorry. I never bother with my hair. It just dries itself like this.”

  She ran her fingers through her hair. “Urgh, I’m envious. Mine takes ages to dry. I’ll just braid it before I leave.”

  He opened his arms to her, and she walked into them. Her hands slid around his back and rested on the waistband of his jeans, as he rested his chin on the top of her head. Even though she’d brought her own things, she smelled like the body wash he’d put in there for guests, the same product he used.

  “Come to the game tonight. I’ll get you a ticket.”

  Her body stiffened against his, and he didn’t like it.

  “It’ll be fun. I bet Sarah will be there. You two could sit together. She knows how it all works and could show you the ropes.”

  She shook her head. “It’s not that I don’t want to watch you. I think that would be really fun. It’s just . . .”

  He waited patiently as she searched for the words to describe whatever was on her mind.

  “What I told you yesterday. About the breakdown. Anders, I can’t be the center of attention. Good or bad. I don’t need to sit in a VIP area with wives and girlfriends and have people speculate about who I’m with or why I’m there.”

  Fear.

  He could understand that.

  But it worried him. He preferred to remain pretty low-key as hockey players went, but even he couldn’t avoid the celebrity status that came with being a major player in the top league in the country. And given his free agency was one of the most talked about contracts up for grabs, the media watched him even more closely than usual.

  “Hey,” he said, taking her chin between his thumb and finger to lift her face to his. “I get it. I’ll get you two tickets in the regular seats. I’ll even get them a few rows back if that makes you more comfortable. Just come watch tonight, please?”

  She studied him for a minute and then nodded. “Okay, I’d like that.”

  He ran his thumb over her lip before pressing his mouth to hers. When her tongue met his, he groaned at the sweetness of it. He leaned back against the kitchen island and pulled her between his legs.

  “Does that mean you’re going to score some goals for me?” Olivia asked.

  Anders laughed. “How many do you want?”

  “What’s a good hockey score?”

  He shook his head at the simple question. “The average goals per game is a little under three per team.” Olivia pursed her lips and he couldn’t resist stealing a chaste kiss. “But the average points per player is somewhere around one to one point five. I’m running a solid one point three.”

  “Well, are you average or better than average?” she asked.

  The words nipped at his competitive spirit. “Älskling, I think we both know the answer to that.” He reached behind her and grabbed her ass. “So, two then?” Anders asked. Olivia tilted her head to the side and he playfully nuzzled her neck.

  “At least two.”

  “Well, let’s say at least two. I get a point for a goal or an assist. What do I get if I get two points?”

  “That’s easy. We reduce it to four dates.”

  “If I get three points?” He knew his voice had dropped to a rough growl, but the flare in Olivia’s eyes told him she was right there with him.

  She stepped up to her toes and kissed him. “Three dates,” she murmured against his lips.

  “This was our third date,” he said, confirming he understood her meaning.

 
“I know.” Her body stepped further into his.

  The back door burst open, and Olivia jumped in his arms.

  “Jag önskar att det bara skulle snöa istället för att kännas så fuktigt,” Karl said, rubbing his hands together.

  Right now, he couldn’t give a fuck about Karl’s view on whether it should snow or not.

  Anders scowled at Karl who was looking at Liv’s wet hair, likely concluding she’d been there all night.

  “Oh, shit, I’m sorry. Hey, Liv.” Karl grinned and raised an eyebrow in his direction.

  “Hey, Karl.” She stepped out of Anders’s grasp and he missed her warmth immediately.

  “Was it urgent? Whatever it is you need?” Anders asked.

  Karl looked over the spread on the kitchen island, likely concluding breakfast had been preceded with a night together. “Nope. Sarah left for work already, so I was going to see if you wanted to head in early for breakfast. But I’m guessing not. Catch you at training,” he said, backing out through the door.

  Anders shook his head and laughed. “I guess we don’t need to worry about telling my brother now. It’ll make it easier when he sees you later.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Natalie whispered as they sat in their seats.

  Anders had been true to his word. The tickets he’d got her were not in the VIP section. Three rows back from the glass, about ten seats down from the bench where one of the teams would be seated.

  “I don’t know,” Olivia answered honestly. “Christmas seemed like this gloriously fleeting memory that I could unpack and look at occasionally. I couldn’t speak about him because it seemed almost sacred, which I know sounds totally stupid.”

  Natalie placed her hand over her heart. “Oh my god, that’s so . . . dreamy? Cute? I don’t know what the word is.”

  “Nauseating?” Olivia offered.

  Natalie laughed. “Definitely not. So, what? Then he just fell back into your life?”

  “Something like that.” She didn’t need to tell Natalie all the gory details of how she’d run into him that night they’d gone out together. “He’s been traded here until the end of his contract.”

  Natalie shrugged out of her coat. “And when is that?”

  Olivia’s stomach felt as though she were free falling. “The end of this season.”

  “Wow. So, what happens when it’s done?”

  Wasn’t that the million-dollar question? He’d been back in her life for a little over a week. It was way too early to put a label on what they were. But her feelings for him went back two months. He’d seen her when everyone else saw her as broken. Nobody else would understand why he meant so much to her in such a short span of time, without her explaining what had happened on Christmas Eve.

  Olivia tugged off her coat to reveal her dark green and gold Rush jersey. “Who knows? But one thing I learned last year is it’s better to take it one day at a time and not borrow trouble from the future.”

  Natalie nudged her shoulder. “I can’t believe he sent you a jersey with his name on it. It’s so . . . possessive.”

  Olivia grinned. “I guess he didn’t want me to forget who I was here to watch.”

  The huge lights lowered, cameras and phones began to flash around the arena. As loud rock music played, players’ names flashed up on the jumbotron interspersed with plays from various games. Images were flashed onto the ice. It was sensory overload. Anders appeared on the jumbotron again, and she couldn’t help but grin. He looked so stern and so much larger than his usual built frame. The extra height from his skates and padding worn for safety made him appear almost menacing.

  And too hot to handle.

  Once the national anthem was over, his team skated to the bench or to their place on the ice. Concentration wracked Anders’s features, but as he neared her seat, he lifted his head and looked straight at her and winked. Before she could respond, he skated away.

  A woman about the same age as Olivia squealed in the row in front of them. “Did you see him wink at me?”

  Her friends nodded their agreement, but Natalie nudged Olivia and rolled her eyes. Olivia ignored the feeling that the woman was likely more Anders’s type.

  Shake it off, Liv.

  It wasn’t the first time she’d seen a woman flirting with Anders. But in this case, she knew Anders’s wink had been meant for her, and he’d left before the woman responded.

  As the game started, Olivia tried to pay attention. Not a hockey fan in the slightest, she only knew the most basic details about the game. Puck to net. Different players constantly rotating, never more than six on the ice. And icing. Oh, and the Zamboni that came out periodically to resurface the ice.

  Anders flew onto the ice with way more control than she possessed on ice skates. You didn’t grow up in Colorado without learning how to stand on skates and skis. And wow, he was fast. The puck went flying toward Florida’s net, with Anders chasing it, and two defensemen chasing him. His ability to almost shimmy on the ice, to control the puck while doing so, was incredible. Instead of attempting to score, he flipped the puck to one of his teammates. Before Olivia had a chance to process what had happened, the crowd was on its feet, screaming and clapping. The goal had happened so quickly, she’d missed it.

  Anders had helped score a goal. The players all piled on each other in the corner, and it was a wonder someone didn’t get hurt with the sticks and skates involved. When the celebration broke up, Anders skated toward the bench holding up one finger in a heavily padded glove. When his eyes caught hers briefly, she knew he meant it for her.

  “How long is a game of hockey?” she asked Natalie, who was still clapping with the crowd.

  “I’m not sure. There are three periods, right? At twenty minutes each, maybe.”

  One point for an assist in the first period. If he kept that up . . . The thought made her shudder. Would he really be able to outperform the average just because she’d asked him to? What if he didn’t?

  He would. She had a feeling as she watched him, determination etching his features. Confidence radiated from him, as did an undercurrent of aggression. It was a side of him she’d never seen, and it shouldn’t have been so damned fascinating to watch.

  There was no way he wouldn’t make it. Her confidence in him was the reason she was wearing her prettiest lace underwear, that every part of her was shaved, that she’d showered before the game and covered her skin in her favorite body lotion that smelled faintly of clementine and neroli.

  “Oh my god,” she cried, jumping to her feet as Anders was slammed into the boards. The player who’d knocked him down was a beast of a man. Taller than Anders by a couple of inches. Wider, too. Her heart raced, beating a frenzied rhythm. Anders climbed to his feet, shaking his head for a moment. Karl skated by and said something that only seemed to irritate Anders.

  With his head down, he skated off the ice, and she watched as he sat on the bench, resting his head in his hands for a moment until a member of the staff said something to him and he shook his head.

  She grabbed her phone, typing him a message she knew he wouldn’t see until the game was over.

  We agreed to three points, but I think I’m going to need to stipulate for future bets that you come off the ice in one piece. That’s more important to me than the points.

  When the buzzer for the period sounded, the bench cleared out so quickly she struggled to see Anders leave, barely catching his name on the back of his jersey.

  Perhaps he’d see her message during the break.

  “Are you okay, Liv?” Natalie asked.

  “Yeah. Fine. That was intense, right?”

  Natalie nodded. “Definitely a lot more testosterone here versus television coverage.”

  “No kidding. And the sound when they hit the boards . . .”

  “Yeah, looked like Anders had his bell rung on that last hit.”

  Worry gnawed away at her, and she attempted to put it in perspective. Hitting the boards had happened to others on the ice and the
y’d all gotten up and walked away.

  When the team came back onto the ice, Anders looked like a different person than the man who suffered a blow before the break. He rolled his shoulders as he circled the ice before taking his place back on the bench, and Olivia found herself mimicking the action, loosening her own shoulders.

  While she wasn’t quite ready to tell Anders, she felt like with a better explanation of the game, she might just fall in love with it as much as Jake did. As much as her father had.

  She thought of her dad, and it tugged her back to a time and place she didn’t want to focus on right now.

  She shook her head, and sighed. “You okay there?” Natalie asked.

  “Just thinking about Dad.”

  Natalie threw her arm over Olivia’s shoulder. “That must be tough. He used to love hockey, right?”

  Olivia nodded, happy that the hockey connection had been Natalie’s first thought. “Yeah. He would love these seats.”

  Anders raced on the ice as the lines changed. He yelled to the person who played on his left-hand side as they charged the direction of the puck. Faster than the defensemen, they chased the puck around the back of the net, bringing the play back to the front of the goal. As the goalie fell to his knees to block the shot, Anders flicked the puck into the air, right into the back corner of the net.

  This time, Anders skated away from the goal in her direction, coming to a halt in front of her section. While his teammates slapped his helmet, and piled onto his shoulders, he raised two fingers and one eyebrow in her direction.

  Relief surged through Olivia when those around her cheered and screamed, assuming it was simply part of his celebration, because the idea they might all turn and look at her was unnerving.

  And, sweet baby Jesus. If he continued to look at her like that, she might explode in her seat. As it was, she sat in a confused state of highly aroused and slightly appalled that watching a hockey game could get her there.