by June Winters
I frowned, a happy, hopeful kind of frown. And I felt so comforted by Hunter that I stepped forward and wrapped my arms tight around him. I didn't even care that the back of his shirt was soaked through with sweat.
“Oh—” Hunter sounded surprised by my hug. But he put his arms around my back and squeezed me into him. He buried his mouth and nose against my clean hair, his warm breath soothing on my scalp.
He was so tall, my face pressed right into his round, firm pecs. Lingering in the dead-center of his muscular chest was the manly scent of a sweaty athlete in his physical prime.
Mmm.
I closed my eyes, let that scent fill my nostrils, and took an even deeper breath. And with that breath, I caught a trace of something else, something deeper and hidden. An underlying scent, a muted note of sweetness. It was so faint, it disappeared as soon as I'd found it.
I wanted more of it. I needed more of it. Discreetly, I tried to find more of that sweetness in him.
But our moment was interrupted by the referees.
“Hey uh, can you lovebirds go flirt somewhere else?” the senior ref said. “We're tryin' to enjoy our post-game brew over here.”
With a hot flash of embarrassment, I escaped Hunter and instantly put several feet of space between us. I didn't need the ice girls and the referees to all think I had a thing for Hunter …
“It's not like that,” I mumbled.
Hunter shot the refs a look. “Next time, I want you guys to watch for Cunningham's antics.” Then he put his hand on my back. “Come on, Honor, I'll get you back in that room.”
I went with him and we walked through the hall together. He tried to shield me as much as he could with his much-bigger body, and his arm around my shoulder.
Outside the girl's dressing room, he told me to try the door.
I did. The door was still locked, so I knocked again. “Hello? It's me, Honor.”
No answer. Hunter stepped to the front of the door instead.
“I'm not sure this is a good idea, Hunter,” I said, biting my lip nervously. “Please—just don't make a scene!”
Hunter tested the knob himself—still locked. He tried to bust the door open with his shoulder, but the heavy thing didn't budge. Then he began pounding his fist on the door.
“Madison! It's Hunter. Open up.”
We both heard the sound of a body sprinting towards the door. The door lock clicked free and the door swung open. There stood Madison, posing sultrily in nothing but her panties. “Oh! Hi, Hunter. What brings you here?”
“You'll never believe this, Madison, but I found the new girl hiding in the referee's room.” Arms folded, Hunter gestured at me.
Madison looked my way, saw me, and slumped. “Oh. Great.”
“She says the door locked on her and no one could hear her knock.” Hunter stared long and hard at Madison. “Crazy, huh? How could that happen?”
Madison huffed. “Oh please, Hunter—it's just some harmless hazing.”
“Uh huh.” Hunter nodded at me. “Come on, Honor.”
“Thanks,” I quietly muttered as I shamefully slunk past him and Madison.
But why do I feel like I just got myself into even more trouble?
Hunter stood in the doorway, silently smirking at Madison.
“Hey Madison. I want Honor at the commercial shoot next week.”
Madison protested. “But that's for second year girls only! It's supposed to be a reward!”
I cut in. I didn't know what shoot they were talking about, but I didn't want to be invited just because he wanted me there. “Yeah, Hunter, I don't want—”
But Hunter shook his head at us both. “I don't care. I want her there. Honor, you're coming, because I want you there. Madison will give you the details. Right Madison?”
After a pause, Madison begrudgingly sighed. “Yeah. Sure. Right.”
“Great.” With that, Hunter turned and left with a wave. “Night ladies.”
“Bye Hunter,” the girls sang.
And then I felt a room full of judgmental eyeballs on me.
“Way to run to the captain,” Madison mumbled.
Really …? Things just keep getting better.
Chapter 9:
Not Supposed to …
Honor
Thanks to the hazing episode, I was the last girl to leave the arena. I wasn't just mad at Madison—I was mad at Hunter for making things worse for me. He didn't have to chastise Madison like he did … now all the girls thought I was untrustworthy. I could see it in their faces.
Sigh.
It was another cold, late night in Denver. I was dreading the half-mile walk through a harsh, biting wind just to reach Colfax Ave. … where I'd have to stand on the side of the road and wait for the late-night bus to take me home to my new apartment.
But, as I began my trek, the familiar, throaty snarl of a sporty engine prowled alongside me.
Oh no. I knew it was him. I didn't even have to look.
“Hey, Honor!”
I shot him a look. “What?”
“Get in. I'll give you a ride home.”
“Leave me alone, Hunter.”
“Come on. It's freezing out.”
“I don't care. I'm tough. And I don't need your help.” I walked faster. Not that his sports car had any problem keeping up with me.
“Don't be crazy. Let me help you out.”
“You've helped me plenty tonight,” I said bitterly.
“Hey, what's your problem?”
I didn't answer. I kept walking.
But Hunter didn't drive off in a rage like I expected. For five minutes, he just chugged alongside me, begging and pleading with me to get in. No matter how fast or slow I walked, he was there. Other cars got pissed at him and honked and zoomed around him.
“I'll walk you home like this if I have to,” he said, sounding amused.
I stopped and stared at him. “You're really not driving off, are you?”
“Nope. Not until you get in.”
I sighed, looked around and surveyed the scene. No one else was around.
“Fine.”
For the second time, I climbed into Hunter Rockwell's car. As much as I didn't want to accept his ride … if I were forced to admit it? I'd secretly enjoyed riding in it last time. It was a nice car—sporty, but comfortable and luxurious at the same time. Way nicer than any car I'd ever been in, that was for sure.
“Thanks, I guess,” I muttered.
“You're welcome, I guess.”
The seats were barely broken in, and supported my weight with an unyielding but comforting firmness. The new leather seats were as taut as a drum. With every breath, that rich 'new car' smell reminded me just how nice and new Hunter's ride was.
And the speakers, once again, bumped and thumped bass notes from the hip-hop Hunter had playing. I settled lower into my seat as the low vibrations throbbed in my core—traveling through me, numbing me, pounding me. Each throb grew more intense—more, God, dare I say it … erotic?
Hunter passed me his cell phone. I stared at it. “What's this for?”
“Put your number in,” he insisted.
A burst of cynical laughter escaped me. “Why would I do that?”
“Because if you ever need a ride after a game, you can text me.”
“You really don't get it, do you?”
“We can arrange some secret pick-up location if you're all that worried about it.”
I didn't reply, but I did set his phone in the center console, without giving him my number.
Hunter shot me a puzzled glance. “What's your problem, anyway? I'm only trying to help you.”
“Don't act like you don't know. I didn't want you to make a scene like that with the girls. I specifically asked you not to.”
“You call that a scene?” Hunter laughed. “Please.”
“She's furious at me, Hunter! And the rest of the girls, too, and now I have to deal with the fall-out.”
“Pff. Who cares what they think?”<
br />
“I care! It's my job. Don't you get it? I have to work with those girls—I don't want them to hate me or think I'm secretly trying to bone you or something.”
Hunter smiled smugly. “You realize that half of those girls are boning my teammates on the regular, right?”
“That's great, but I don't care what they do, Hunter. All I know is that I'm under the microscope right now, for some reason, and I don't like it. And I don't need any more attention drawn to myself, which is exactly what your stunt did.”
“Alright. Damn. I'm sorry, then. I didn't think it was a big deal.” He shrugged. “Look, if something happened to your job, for whatever reason, and you needed any money—”
“Hunter …” I clicked my tongue. “It's not about money. And I couldn't take your money.”
I realized Hunter was driving towards my old apartment. “Oh—shit! I'm sorry, Hunter, I didn't even tell you that I moved.”
“You moved? Already? After, what, just two weeks at the other place?”
I gulped, and answered quickly, “Yeah, I'm at Lincoln and 6th now.”
“Okay, okay.” Hunter turned the wheel and whipped his car around. “Shorter drive, that's for sure.”
A silence came between us. I could tell he'd already figured it out. He was just calculating how he'd bring it up.
“So …” he began, a knowing smile already emerging. “Did your boyfriend move with you?”
“No, Hunter, he didn't.”
“Huh. No shit.”
“Yeah, no shit. We broke up and I found some college girls on Craigslist that needed a roommate.”
“Oh. Sorry to hear that.” He flashed me his cute smile. I hated that smile for being so … perfect. Weren't hockey players supposed to be missing teeth?
With a scoff, I forced myself to look away from him. “Yeah, right.”
“Okay, yeah, if I'm being honest? Your boyfriend sounded like a complete douche. Trust me. You could do better.”
“A complete douche,” I laughed. “I haven't told you anything about him.”
“Not true. You told me he was supposed to pick you up that one night, but he didn't. Isn't that enough?”
“I guess.”
“You also said he laughed in your face at the arena when I missed that shot. Now, I don't know this guy at all, but that sounds pretty immature.”
I conceded his analysis with a groan. “Yeah …”
“A guy like that doesn't deserve a beautiful girl like you.” His eyes darted from the road to catch mine. He wanted me to know he meant it.
My heart fluttered like a windsock catching a sudden breeze. I wished it hadn't, but it had. I'd felt it plain as day, no matter how badly I didn't want to feel anything for anyone at this point in my life. Especially a hockey player who was destined to get me into all sorts of trouble if I had a moment of weakness.
“So, yeah, I think you could do better.”
“Stop it,” I demanded meekly. “I told you not to flirt with me anymore.”
“I haven't even started,” he said, his gritty voice so low, it might as well have been a whisper.
Gulp. I dug my nails into his leather seats, trying to stay grounded. Still that beat bumped over his speaker, through my seat, and between my legs. The deep vibrations thrummed at me, numbed my nerves, opened me, pulsed through me …
Hunter turned onto my block and slowly pulled into my driveway. He flicked off his headlights and switched off the engine. And instead of thanking him for the ride and leaping out of the car, I sat. We both sat. In the quiet, dim light of his sports car. Like we both knew something else was supposed to happen now.
I could feel Hunter's gaze on me, but I was too timid to meet it. I was desperate to change course before one of us said something stupid, or did something we couldn't take back.
At last, I blurted out, my voice panicky and lilting, “So what's this commercial shoot you mentioned to Madison?”
Hunter smiled. “Oh. Yeah. We have a local sponsor. A car dealership. They always make these wacky TV commercials. And for their next commercial, they said they had this idea where the ice girls would play a game against the Blizzard men. And so, the way they want it, you girls are supposed to totally school us guys. Pretty cheesy, but whatever—you know how local commercials can be. Thing is, they want it to look 'realistic.'”
“Okay … but why do you want me to be there?”
“Oh, a few reasons.”
“Let's hear 'em.”
Hunter smiled, his teeth glowing white in the dark cabin of his car. “First of all, you mentioned before that your brothers played hockey. And you knew enough about shooting mechanics to suggest that I should change sticks. A younger sister like you, I bet, has spent a lot of time on the ice with a stick in her hand, because she wanted to be like her big brothers.”
“Yeah, you're right,” I admitted as a smile emerged against my will. “It almost always ended in tears—mine, of course—because they played against me like I was a boy their age.”
“That's what I figured.”
“So … what were your other reasons?” I asked, wanting to hear what else Hunter had deduced about me.
“Second. Your skating. It's gorgeous. You didn't learn to skate like that in the backyard pond.”
“Hm,” I laughed softly. “You're right again. Five years of figure skating.”
“It shows. The way you move, Honor?” He made a frustrated grunt. “You're so elegant. I bet you were great. I would've loved to have watched you.” Hunter trailed off, his voice growing husky.
“Mm.” A satisfied, soft moan. It wasn't lost on me that Hunter had more to say about my figure skating career than my ex-boyfriend ever had. “You've done a lot of thinking about me, haven't you?”
The hell am I saying! Don't flirt with him, Honor!
“Maybe.” A devilish twinkle appeared in Hunter's eye. “Third. You rocked that outfit tonight, and I can't wait to see you wearing whatever skimpy thing that car dealership has in mind—”
Thwack! My hard fist slammed against the meat of his muscled shoulder.
“Oh my God,” Hunter howled with laughter. “It's almost like you hate being told you're attractive.”
“By you, yeah, I sure do.”
“Why?”
“Because we're not supposed to—” My mind froze as I searched for the right word. Flirt? Find each other attractive? Keep stealing peeks at each other's mouths like we can't wait to make out? “We're not supposed to fraternize! I'm not even supposed to be in this car with you.”
“I told you, no one's gonna find out.” Hunter rubbed his shoulder with the palm of his other hand. “Man. Honestly, you hit kinda hard. Did your brothers teach you how to be so violent?”
“Me? You're the guy who punched someone in the face tonight.”
“Ha.” Hunter laughed off my joke. But with each second that passed, I realized my joke had perturbed him. He blew out an irritated gust through flared nostrils, and his hands tightened on the wheel until the leather creaked beneath his fists.
“Oh. Er. Sorry to bring that up?” I mumbled, sheepish.
“No, it's okay. It's my fault. I lost my cool. It sucks, but it happened.”
“Can I ask what happened out there?”
Hunter paused. “Nothing.”
“Oh.”
He let out a sigh. “Okay. He kept whistling this country song at me all night. Got to me. That's all.”
“A country song?” I cracked up with laughter. “God, the things that happen on the ice between you guys are so fascinating. So is that your ultimate weakness? Sing a country tune to Hunter Rockwell and he goes berserk?”
But Hunter wasn't so keen to joke around about it. “Look. It's not really easy for me to talk about. It's—it's just an old beef we had once upon a time. We used to be teammates, you know.”
“Sorry. I didn't mean to make light of it.” I frowned. “Honestly though, Hunter? I squealed when you hit that guy.”
Hunter loved
hearing that. “Really? Why?”
“Because he's a creep. He followed us around all night, staring and making these gross comments.”
“Yeah, that sounds like him, alright.”
“So, yeah, I loved it when you socked him. I'm pretty sure all the girls did too.”
“Well, I'm glad somebody loved it. 'Cause the boys sure weren't too happy with me. And Coach was furious. I'm sure the fans will be trashing me on the forums all night, too.” Hunter shook his head. “Anyway. Enough about hockey.”
A pause. I knew this was my moment to go.
“Thanks for the ride, Hunter,” I said. I took his cell phone from the center console and tapped in my number. “There. Now you have my number.”
“Hey, great. I'll text you later so you have mine.” He gestured towards my apartment as he unbuckled his seat belt. “So, you wanna show me your new place?”
Give an athlete an inch …
“Hunter!” I warned, but the damned hockey player was already out of his car and slamming his door shut. I climbed out after him. “Trust me, it's nothing special.”
“So? I don't care.” He walked me to my door.
“I know you don't,” I answered as I turned the key in the lock. “That's the problem.”
“Stop it,” he urged me with an adorably innocent smile. Even though I knew he wasn't innocent at all. “Just give me the tour.”
'Ugh,' was all I could think. Because I was actually considering it. The thing was, I knew exactly where this road led. I knew what he wanted. And yet, still, I considered it. Because … why not? I mean, technically, I already broke the rules when I accepted a ride from him. How much worse could things really get if I chilled with him for a little?
Besides. He was cute and sweet and after all, he kept doing favors for me. Although his motives were definitely questionable …
I let out a heavy, defeated sigh that was mostly for show.
“Fine. I'll show you my place. But don't get any ideas.”
***
My roommates were relaxed on the couch, in their pajamas, and watching TV in the living room when I stepped through the front door.