Page 36 of At the Edge with You

Yup, don’t like that at all.

Before I could even register that I was only in socks and shorts, I was down the stairs and through the west rink doors to find Dean with his hands still on her. Never in my life have I wanted to tear my friend’s arm off and beat him with the bloodied end.

But that’s exactly how I feel.

Even after teasing Fable, I want to beat the fuck for touching her.

The mention of nipples has her cheeks and neck bright red, while her plump lips press together so hard they’re white. She shifts on her skates, and my grin grows.

Does my girl need some friction between those thick thighs?

I force myself to look away, shaking my head in the frustration that only Fable Winthrop brings me.

The past two weeks have been hell. I have spent an ungodly amount of time looking at the photo she sent out to announce her coaching for just a glimpse of what I think I saw. I have racked my brain trying to figure out if I made it up, but I know what I saw. I need her to admit it. Not only do her nipples keep me awake at night, but so does the rest of her. I toss and turn until it’s time to get up and face her each morning. We spend hours going through her damn file and arguing about what she wants. Are her suggestions bad? Not at all, they’re great, but I just can’t seem to let go of my pride.

Plus, I love arguing with her.

She’s so passionate, and all I want is for her to channel that passion into me. I want her to look at me with those heated eyes as she takes my cock down her throat. I want her to ride me like she wants to break me in half, and fuck, I’d let her. She’s just too damn perfect. Since the moment I met her, I knew she was special, and even now, after twenty years, nothing has changed.

Fable is the girl of my dreams.

As I gaze down at her, Fable’s eyes are dark and trained only on me. It’s like we’re the only two on this rink, and I wish I could touch her like Dean did. I just want to feel her beneath my palms.

When she checked out my chest, I wanted to step closer to give her a better look at my ink. She was always intrigued by the tattoos my grandma had since she was a tattoo artist. Butback then, tattoos were so against what the Winthrops believed in that Fable knew she couldn’t get one. It blows me away that she has her thighs done. I want to know how many she has, what prompted her to get them, and if I can see them up close.

With my mouth.

Fuck, I’m gone for this woman.

“Fable is going to train Skyye.”

Shit, I forgot Dean was here.

I swallow hard, cupping the back of my neck as I nod. “Great. We need more skaters.”

I meet his knowing gaze, and the bastard is trying not to laugh at me. “Maybe if the place didn’t look like shit, you’d get more attention.”

I glare over at Fable, and she gives me a knowing look. “See?”

“She put you up to this?” I ask, hooking a thumb toward her, and Dean’s brows furrow.

“No, we all know this rink is the redheaded stepchild of the Thistle,” he says with a laugh. “What, she wants to fix it?”

“Full-ass overhaul of it,” I snap, and she sends me a smug grin.

“And I’m right.”

I roll my eyes as Dean agrees, “It needs to be done.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter gruffly.

“But you also need to get out into the community, Fable.” I glance over to find her looking at him, perplexed. “You haven’t been out in town since you arrived. The only time people see you is at the Belles’ games, and even then, you’re not approachable.”

“She’s plenty approachable,” I defend, not liking what he’s saying one bit. It’s not her fault she’s here. She doesn’t want to get out, and I understand that. It overwhelms her. She has to be someone she’s not, and I hate that for her.

I feel her gaze on me, and when I look over, she stands a bit taller as something moves in her eyes. I don’t know what it is,but before I can even name it, she says, “I was actually thinking of going to businesses to ask if they wanted to buy ad space here.”

Another idea that I shot down. Dean seems to like it, though. “I think that’s a great idea. I heard Noelle talking about getting some ad space the other day when I was in there.” He looks at his watch. “Actually, if you head up there now, you’ll be in the middle of rush hour. Get your face out there.”

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