Fighting against Gravity: A Standalone Enemies-to-Lovers Sports Romance (An Ice Tigers Hockey Romance Book 3)

by Isabella Cassazza

  I inspect myself one final time in the mirror and head for my bedroom. Unlike Mr. I-can-afford-shirts-for-three-hundred-dollars, I only have a budget wardrobe. I pick the only fancy dress I own, the dark blue one I wear each time I meet my sister for drinks. I like this one. It hides my hips and belly, and the color enhances my fair skin tone. At least that’s what I tell myself.

  I put on the dress and slip into my shoes, then put on my watch. It’s 7:55 p.m. Five minutes to catch my breath. It’s just one date, Ellie. Enjoy it. Who knows when your next one will take place?

  I don’t want to enter the evening with expectations. I’m going out to have some fun and explore new things. That’s all. A tiny escape from my mom life is all I can afford. Michael can be charming if he wants to be. Everything will be fine. I can even ask him for pointers for future endeavors.

  I check the watch again. Five past eight. Punctuality doesn’t seem to be one of Michael’s traits. Unlike me, he might have trouble finding the right outfit. I’m not sure what I’ll do if he shows up with the leopard-print shirt. It would be a true Michael move, but… that thing is so ugly. And way too expensive.

  I walk over to the window and gaze outside. No sign of a silver SUV. Not even a glimpse. The only car on the street is my shiny new minivan. If I don’t leave the house tonight, at least I can check on the car from time to time.

  I press my lips together. What if Michael truly doesn’t show up? His message said Thursday at eight p.m., didn’t it?

  I return to the couch and check my phone. Thursday at eight p.m. I’m ready, but he isn’t. Not yet. I return to my spot at the window and wait for the SUV to turn the corner.

  It doesn’t. At half-past eight, I abandon my window spot and sink down on the couch to shake the shoes off my feet. These things aren’t made for walking. I wouldn’t go as far as to call them high heels, but they’re higher than my everyday sneakers. I tap my foot.

  Should I call him? Did something happen to him?

  Why waste so much money on flowers if he planned to ditch me? I’m truly too old for his dating games.

  Calling him might seem desperate, but… what if he fell in the shower again?

  If he fell in the shower and hit his head, he won’t be able to answer his phone anyway, a voice whispers in my head.

  Should I call an Uber and check on him?

  Was asking me out only a big joke to him? Is he laughing about my naivety right now?

  I should undress and curl up on the couch. Instead, I remain frozen in place and stare into the darkness. I’ve done it again. I’ve allowed myself to get my hopes up when there was never a chance it would work out. When will I finally learn not to put my trust in men? I attract the unreliable ones like flies. Not that I want to. It just happens.

  My bottom lip trembles. Haven’t I cried enough for a lifetime? I wipe away the wetness on my cheeks in an angry motion. Now I’ll look like a panda. I giggle. A panda in a cocktail dress.

  The doorbell rings, and my head flies up. Shit, what if I really look like a panda now?

  I shoot from the couch, bump my knee against the coffee table, and jump on one foot to the door. I take a deep breath before I buzz the intercom. See, my place isn’t as outdated as Michael thinks it to be. Mine doesn’t have video, but I can hear who’s outside.

  “Yeah.” My voice sounds husky to my own ears.

  “Ellie? It’s Michael. I’m so sorry. I—”

  “Come upstairs and we can talk.” I should tell him exactly what I think about him being late. Instead, I want to dance around in circles. He’s here. I’ll have my date.

  I open the door and peek outside. He’s slowly taking one step after the other on the wooden staircase while the thing creaks louder than ever before. The man isn’t a lightweight, not with all those muscles in his upper body.

  “Hey.” His eyes meet mine, even though he’s made it only halfway up the stairs, and holds my gaze until he’s reached the landing.

  “Hey.” Mesmerized, I watch as his arm muscles strain under the slim-fit dress shirt when he leans on the cane to take the final steps in my direction. He’s wearing a white dress shirt and blue dress pants. Mr. My-taste-tends-to-be-too-extraordinary-for-my-own-good looks classy tonight. I kind of expected the neon green shirt. What will I use to taunt him now?

  I swallow. I can’t be salivating over Michael’s arm muscles. This is just one date, Ellie. And not one that’ll end in the bedroom. It could, Johnny’s staying at my sister’s tonight, but my resolve stands. I’ve had my taste of the forbidden fruit. The date is just to stop the flow of presents.

  We’re doing the dating game backward, but who says we can’t invent our own rules. One date and we’re done. For good. It’s better that way.

  I need to move on. He needs to move on. But before that has to happen, I intend to make the most of tonight. I can always take care of myself later when I’m back in my bed, dreaming of hard muscles and—Stop it, Ellie. You’ve had your taste. If you get more, you’ll only get sick.

  “Hey.” Michael bends down and kisses my cheek. Why does he have to smell so good?

  “Hey. Please come in.” I take a step back and motion him inside while my heart somersaults in my chest.

  A slow smile spreads across his face. “Thank you.” He brushes past me and waits for me to close the door.

  “What’s with your hair?” I blink and take in what can only be described as the after-sex-hair look. Since when doesn’t Michael care about his appearance? He wouldn’t take me on a date after he’d just fucked someone else, would he?

  “Shit.” He checks his appearance in the small wardrobe mirror. “I… I’m easing back into training and went for a light stretching routine today. But I fell asleep after I took a shower. And then I forgot the flowers and had to turn around. And when I took them from the vase, the damn thing spilled all over me. I had to change… and… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be late.”

  I giggle. “You’re excused.” He looks kind of cute trying to explain why he didn’t show up on time. “You’re Mr. Disaster after all.”

  He chuckles. “I guess I am.” Then his expression turns serious again. “You still want to go out?” He drags his gaze over me in a way that suggests he wouldn’t mind skipping that part of the evening.

  “There’s no sex on a first date.” I hold his gaze for a second. Better to inform him right away what and what not to expect.

  “No sex?” He frowns.

  I hold his gaze. “Nope, no sex.”

  His shoulders slump before he catches himself and stands up straight again. “Okay. No sex. I can do that.” He nods. “Let’s go then. Where’s your coat?”

  “Over there. I need a second. Why don’t you wait downstairs?”

  He shrugs but leaves the apartment. Once the door falls shut behind him, I run into the bathroom and wipe away the mascara smudges from my pity party, which leaves me with only lipstick for makeup. He gets the real deal tonight. Nothing left for me to hide behind.

  When I join him downstairs, he opens the car door for me. Steven never bothered. My heart jumps again in my chest and I take a calming breath. Once we’re on our way, I ask, “Did you find a new physical therapist?”

  “Yup. But I haven’t had my first session yet with him. I’m on the wait list.”

  I raise both eyebrows. “A wait list?”

  He nods but keeps his eyes on the street. “He’s supposed to be the best.”

  “Good for you. So where are we going tonight?”

  A slow grin spreads over his face. “I booked a table at a new Italian restaurant. I hope they held the reservation. It’s hard to reserve there in the first place.”

  I frown. Is my dress elegant enough for a restaurant with a reservation list?

  As it turns out, the fancy place didn’t hold Michael’s reservation as the restaurant manager informs us with a fake smile on her face.

  Michael turns to me and closes his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Ellie. I wanted—”
r />   I put my hand on his arm. “It’s all right, Michael. Let’s go.” No need for anyone to overhear our conversation.

  Before I can pull him back outside, he places a hand on my elbow and frowns. “I wanted tonight to be perfect for you.”

  “Perfect is boring. I might have an idea.” I’m not sure I want to dine at this fancy restaurant in the first place. I’d only have felt out of place.

  He lifts an eyebrow.

  “Drop that or you’ll get wrinkles,” I tease.

  He chuckles and right away contradicts himself. “Not funny.”

  I wink. “I think it is.”

  He shakes his head. “What’s the idea?”

  I pull on his arm again. This time he lets me walk him out of the door and away from the restaurant manager’s prying eyes and ears. “I’m kind of hungry and… do you think you could make an exception to the no-carbs rule?”

  His forehead crinkles. “I’m eating them now and then these days.”

  I pat his arm. “Good for you. So… how does a burger and fries sound to you?” My stomach chooses that moment to emphasize that I’m starving.

  He looks at my dress, then at his dress pants and up to me again. “We might be overdressed.”

  I chuckle. “And?”

  Michael shrugs. “Sure. Let’s have a burger.” He puts my hand in his and walks me back to the car. My heart beats faster. His warm skin on mine makes me think of what else he’s already done to my body with his long fingers. It’s a good thing the car hasn’t been parked yet and we pull back on the street in no time.

  Fifteen minutes later we arrive at a small diner with red booths and the biggest burgers in town. Is this what I imagined my dream date would be like when I was in college and Steven and I became a couple? No, it sure as hell isn’t. But like I said earlier, perfection is boring. Sometimes you don’t know what you want until life presents it on a silver platter.

  “Have you figured out what you want to do with the rest of your life?” I ask once we sit across from each other. My plan is to let him talk while I listen.

  He rubs his chin. “Yeah, I think I have.”

  “And?” I draw the word out.

  He smiles. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  I fold my hands. “You don’t have to tell me, if—”

  “I want to. I…” He rubs his chin again. “I want to study fashion design.”

  I lean back in my seat. “Wow. I can see that. You could open your own shop right away with all the stuff you have in your closet.”

  He laughs. “I keep that to myself.”

  “You should talk to Emilia. I’m sure she has a few tips for you.”

  The smile drops from his face. “I will.”

  I reach out one hand and place it over his. “You should call her. I’m sure she’d be up for a meeting someplace other than the Ice Tigers’ headquarters.”

  “How can you see right through me?” He puts his other hand over mine. It’s big and warm. So warm. I close my eyes and my heart flutters in my chest again.

  “Who ordered the cheeseburger with fries?” My eyes snap open. The waitress balances two giant plates right next to us, waiting for a reply.

  “That’s mine,” I say and pull my hand out of Michael’s warm embrace.

  “And a jumbo burger with double fries for you.” She puts the second overflowing plate in front of Michael.

  “Enjoy.” The waitress walks away from our booth.

  Saved by the food. Thank God. I’d rather not find out the answer to Michael’s question myself.

  Twenty minutes later, Michael swallows the last bite of his burger and reaches for a napkin. “This was amazing.”

  “And to think you never even tried one the whole time you were in Boston.” I wink. It also saved me from too much conversation. I made sure I had a fry or a piece of burger in my mouth from the time they were set in front of us. I’m a coward. But it’s better this way.

  “I took my job seriously.” He wipes sauce from his mouth.

  “I’m sure you did. But aren’t you glad you can enjoy fast food now?”

  A sad smile spreads across his face. “A vital part is missing inside of me. I’m afraid burgers aren’t enough to stop the leak.”

  I reach out and place my hand over his. “I’m sorry, Michael. I… I can’t imagine how that must feel. I said it before and I mean it, you’re a lot stronger than you think you are.”

  He nods, but the comfortable atmosphere from earlier is gone.

  I clear my throat. “Will you take me home please? It’s getting late, and I have to work tomorrow.”

  “If that’s what you want.” He looks at me with sad eyes. Like a puppy who’s lost his favorite toy.

  I nod. Unfortunately, it has to be what I want.

  His shoulders slump. Then he pushes up on his cane and takes care of the bill while I step into the chilly night air. The drive back to my apartment is a silent one. But he opens the car door for me again once we’ve arrived to what has been my home for the past four years.

  “Let me walk you to your door.” Michael holds my hand all the way across the street and up the stairs.

  In front of my apartment, I struggle to find the keys in my bag. Michael places his hand over mine. “Let me help you.”

  I slowly look up. He’s towering over me. If I straighten my back a little….

  He bends down. I lick my lower lip. The old Michael would have crashed his mouth onto mine. But he’s changed. All he does is place a hand on my cheek while his eyes ask me for permission to kiss me.

  I nod and he closes the distance between us until his mouth finds mine in a slow kiss. A sensual one. One that promises me heaven on earth if I’m willing to take a chance on Michael.

  I sway from all the crazy emotions inside me, but he catches me before I can fall and presses my body against his. He’s… delicious. All strength where I’m weak. All hardness where I’m soft.

  I wish I could truly get lost in his breathtaking kiss. But I can’t let it go any further. We both pant when I finally pull away.

  “Are you sure there’s no sex on a first date?” He leans his forehead against mine and takes my hand, placing it on the bulge in his pants when I turn around to say goodbye. “Just so you know what you fucking do to me.”

  “You’ll survive it.” I move my hand away. Sex would complicate things too much. I take a step back to put some distance between us.

  He presses his lips together. “Will there be a second date?”

  “I think the proper way to move forward is to call me tomorrow.”

  A muscle in his jaw twitches. “Will you answer my call?”

  I wish I was strong enough to tell him no. But Michael King is my weakness. “You’ll see.” I lift up on my toes and give him a light peck on the cheek. Maybe we aren’t completely done yet.

  “How many times a year do you decorate this place?” Michael hands me a Christmas garland. He didn’t wait to call me the next morning but texted twice during the night. How could I refuse to let him visit me at the shop today?

  I’m not sure what to make of this overeager version of Michael King. He desperately wants to please me, that much is clear. The question is, what do I want? His interest is a massive ego boost. Still, I’m unsure how to proceed.

  I don’t want to hurt his… feelings, but I have to put Johnny and myself first. I’m the toy he can’t have; I think that’s where most of his interest stems from. Who knows what he will do if he discovers a shiny new toy that outshines me times ten?

  “At least five times. Two times alone for Christmas. It’s my biggest season. People are prepared to spend enormous sums on Christmas décor. But they want to see what they can do with the things they’re about to pay for. I like to play around with different colors and textures each year. And since you bought me a second order of Christmas décor, I might have to redecorate again to put out everything I have this year on display.”

  Michael smiles. “I can’t wait to see w
hat the shop will look like then.”

  “Just so you know, I’m paying you a portion of what I make from your décor. And before I forget it, you need to send someone to pick up the minivan. I can’t accept such an expensive gift.”

  Michael sighs. “Ellie, please think about it again. I don’t need the money. And you want to be able to drive Johnny to his hockey practice. He’s registered for the minis training camp, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, he is. It’s all he can talk about. The training begins after Christmas. You realize he wants to put on his gear at least once a day? And that I had to draw a countdown calendar until the first practice?”

  He laughs out loud. “See, you really need the car.”

  I bite my lip. “All right. But I want the invoice. Then I’ll set up a monthly payment plan.”

  Michael rolls his eyes. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”

  I turn my attention back to the garlands and tweak a few things here and there.

  “What do you think?” I step off the ladder Michael sent me and take in my creation. Gold ornaments cover the walls while fir garlands with red Christmas balls hang in front of the windows. It’s classic yet stylish.

  “It’s pretty cool.”

  “Pretty cool? Pretty cool isn’t good enough.” I turn to retrieve more boxes with different ornaments, but he catches me around the middle and pulls me close.

  “It’s beautiful, Ellie. You’re beautiful.” He gives me a quick kiss on the forehead.

  Our gazes lock. Why does he have to be so tempting? And so… sweet? Where is the macho asshole version of Michael King when I need it most? I can’t fall for him. I can’t…. I turn away and end the moment. “Then I did my job. Can you pass me the LED lights, please?”

  He sighs, clearly disappointed. “Sure. What are you going to do with them?”

  “I’ll just put them in and around the garland. That way it’ll look even cozier and festive in here.” I wink and climb the ladder again.

  “Be careful.” Michael’s arm shoots out to steady me when I lean a little too far to my left. Adrenaline shoots through my veins. What is it about him that makes my heart rate accelerate to dangerous heights every single time he’s around?