Page 68 of Resist

Dr. Erika Nelson had introduced herself the second Ainsley arrived, explaining she lived across the hall from Coulton’s teammate, Blake Mills. Apparently, Coulton had texted Erika this afternoon, asking if she’d introduce Ainsley to the others in the box.

Ainsley was touched by his thoughtfulness, because she had been quite nervous about sitting in a box filled with strangers. Five minutes with Erika and every drop of anxiety had vanished, since the woman was so damn friendly and nice.

“So…you and Coulton,” Erika asked, as the first period started to wind down.

Ainsley wished she’d thought to ask Coulton what he’d told his friends about them. Had he said they were just friends or that they were dating? Did he make it sound like a casual thing or something more? Hell,shewasn’t even sure exactly what they were. She’d been too afraid to ask. Or…trigger shy might be the more accurate term. The last time she’d asked a boyfriend what their relationship status was had been with Montgomery, and he’d let her know in no uncertain terms how little she meant to him. She wasn’t ready to open herself up to that kind of rejection again if Coulton was just fooling around.

“Yeah. Um. It’s sort of new. We’ve only gone out a few times, so I’m not sure there’s a label to attach to it or anything.”

“I’m glad he met someone. The poor guy has been on his own for too long.”

“Coulton told me about his breakup, and that he’d dated his last girlfriend for a long time. It makes sense it took him time to get over her.”

Erika tilted her head. “I guess so. We had a heart-to-heart about it one night after too many tequila shots,” she said with a laugh. “I have to admit, I didn’t get the sense that Coulton had been head over heels in love with Evelyn. It felt more like a comfortable relationship.”

Ainsley frowned. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No, not at all. Being comfortable with someone is great.” Erika glanced toward the ice, her gaze following Blake as he slid from one side to the other with the puck. “But passion should be a part of it too, right? Coulton said that toward the end of his relationship with Evelyn, they’d started to feel more like siblings than a couple.”

“Oh. Yeah, that’s not good.” He hadn’t mentioned that to Ainsley, but they hadn’t exactly spent a lot of time talking about Evelyn. Probably because Coulton had an uncanny ability to constantly turn their conversations back to her.

“But this is just me, talking out of turn. What I’m really trying to say is, Blake told me that Coulton’s been a different person the last couple of weeks since he started dating you.”

Ainsley liked the worddating, even if she wasn’t sure it fit. Regardless, there was another word that stood out more. “Different?”

Erika grinned. “Happy, Ainsley. He’s really happy.”

Ainsley smiled, Erika’s comment having the same effect on her. She seriously hoped she was making Coulton happy, because God knew she’d smiled more in the past few weeks than she had in the last decade. The man was breaking down her defenses, and she didn’t mind it as much as she should.

She was starting to trust him, and while, yes, that scared her spitless, the fear wasn’t enough that she wanted to stop seeing him.

“I’m going to grab another beer,” Erika said, shaking up her empty can. “You want another?”

Ainsley shook her head. “I’m good.”

As the buzzer sounded to end the first period, Ainsley stood and stretched, looking around the arena.

She was in the team box, which was open and connected to several other boxes on this level. Turning toward the box to the right, she froze when she saw a familiar face.

No. Fucking. Way.

She wasn’t sure what she’d ever done to piss off Karma, but that bitch had it out for her. Bad.

Ainsley started to duck her head in order not to be seen, but she didn’t move quickly enough.

Her gaze locked with Montgomery’s, and she watched a plethora of emotions cross his face in rapid succession. Surprise to confusion to curiosity to annoyance to—fuck her—that slimy smile that she’d stupidly mistaken as charming during the early days.

He stepped over to the railing that separated the boxes. He was still in his outdoor jacket, his hair windblown, so she assumed he’d just arrived at the game.

“Ainsley,” he said.

She was tempted to flip him the bird, then turn around and ignore him, but there were too many people in the box that were friends of Coulton’s teammates. She wanted them to like her, so she thought it best to move closer to Montgomery so that she could keep this conversation quiet, civil, and—please God—short.

“Hey, Monty.” She looked over his shoulder, studying the box he was in, which was filled with just men.

Montgomery followed her gaze. “Bachelor party for one of my colleagues at work,” he explained. “I got held up in court, so I’m a little late.”

“Oh.”

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