Something So Right(11)

“No, it isn’t like my baby, it is my baby. When I took over from my dad, there was only one rink. I’ve worked hard to make it what it is. Taking the NHL players’ rehabbing contracts really helps me achieve my goals. You, my friend, are going to be paying for a special powerskater and skating treadmill. It’s the next thing to help kids with speed.”

We continue the meal, talking about the game and all the challenges he faces now that he isn’t a kid anymore. I can’t tell you when the last time I enjoyed myself so much was. When it’s time to leave, I try walking out before him but that only gets my arm yanked back so I can walk with him.

The sun has now set, making the stars light up the sky.

When we get to my car, I don’t know what I’m expecting, but what I’m hoping is that he kisses me. Again. I know I shouldn’t even go there, but my head isn’t in sync with my body these days. I try to dislodge from him and open my door when he turns me around and gazes down at me. I’m sucked in, his blue eyes lock with mine, and I want to get lost. I want to get lost with him. I want whatever he has to give, for however long he wants to give it.

He leans down and smiles right before he places a gentle kiss on my lips. The funny thing is our eyes are still open, he’s still looking straight at me, through me, and it scares the shit out of me. I blink and try to look away, but he palms my cheek and turns slightly and licks my bottom lip, making me open my mouth and meet his tongue halfway. I drag my hand up his back and finally sink my hand into his hair. And. It’s. Heaven. I slide my tongue back into his mouth and push myself on my tippy toes in order to get closer to him. He slowly eases himself away while I’m standing here with my eyes closed.

“I think it’s best you go now before I fuck you in public.”

I’m blinking my eyes, trying to focus and hear his words.

“Get in and text me when you get home.”

I still haven’t said anything because frankly I have no words to say. He has just given me the best kiss of my life in the parking lot of Overtime, in public.

don’t know how I make it home, but I do. I sit here in my car, thinking that I’m not sure what is going on, but I’m really hoping that I’m going to survive when he’s gone.





Chapter Six





When I show up for Monday’s session, Cooper is waiting for me as usual. He’s in his pregame jeans, T-shirt, and that fucking baseball cap, leaning against his truck with a to-go coffee cup in his hand.

“I come in peace,” he says, handing me the hot cup of java. I inhale the aroma and think to myself, damn does coffee ever smell good.

“Thank you.” I’m pretty sure I’m beaming a big ass smile that you could see even from Mars.

He leans down, sticking his face in my neck, inhaling me.

“Did you just smell me?”

“Yeah, babe, I did.”

“Dude, that is fucking weird, stop smelling me.” I’m giggling and can’t even stand myself right now. “So,” I say, drinking a nice long sip of coffee. “I know you think we have something working here, and I’m not saying we don’t. But I want to say that while we are here or in there”—I point to the rink—“you are just another person I’m training. There will be no special treatment, and if you so much as try to stick your tongue down my throat in front of people who work with me in my rink, I’ll slice your throat.” I look at him, daring him to challenge me.

He looks deep into my eyes and leans in and whispers, “I’ll give you this for now, but when I get in there”—he points to my chest—“new rules will apply.” He nips my ear, giving me goose bumps all over my body, making my nipples peak and strain against my sports bra. Thank God for padding because I would be high beaming the whole goddamn neighborhood!

“Lace up, Stone, we’re already late. I would hate for you to be late.” I smirk, then head inside, leaving him watching my ass.

We kill practice and by kill I mean he is killing it. He is better than the twenty-year-olds. His knee is still stiff sometimes, but that will ease with time.

I’ve changed out of my full yoga pants and have put on my booty shorts. Not short shorts but booty shorts. I’ve just finished his shake and am leaning over to place it on the counter with a smile and then walk out in front. I know the minute he sees my shorts as I hear a growl coming out from deep in his throat.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” he’s whispering with clenched teeth, eyebrows pulled together.

“Um, shorts. I’m going to go running on the treadmill, so I changed.”