Page 30 of Cold Front
Rookie Coach’s whistle cut through the noise. Break was over.
Roman skated past, leading a few kids through a passing drill, and I forced myself to focus, kneeling to adjust one of their helmets. It should have been easy to shake off the moment with Eli.
But it wasn’t.
Even as kids tugged at my sleeve, even as Roman called my name, my mind strayed.
To the way Eli had looked up at me.
To the warmth of his arm beneath my palm.
To the way, for just a second, it had felt natural—like I was supposed to hold on.
I clenched my jaw and shoved the feeling down.
I didn’t have time for this.
Didn’t have space for it.
Didn’t want it.
At least, that’s what I told myself.
CHAPTER13
ELI
Lying in bed, I stared at the ceiling, my body restless, my mind worse. Sleep wasn’t happening. Not with the way my brain kept circling back to earlier—to Niall.
I could still feel it. The firm press of his hands when I stumbled into him, the warmth of his chest against mine. It had been a second, maybe less, but my body had clocked every detail. How steady he’d felt. How solid.
I exhaled hard through my nose. “Nope,” I muttered. “Not doing this.”
But my brain was a stubborn bastard, replaying the moment like it was analyzing game footage. The way his grip lingered a beat too long. The way his fingers flexed, like he was about to let go but hadn’t wanted to. The way I hadn’t wanted him to.
I rolled onto my stomach, shoving my face into the pillow. It meant nothing. A reflex. Basic human decency. That was all.
So why was I still thinking about it?
I flipped onto my back again, rubbing a hand over my face. Maybe I was just thrown by how good he’d been with the kids. I hadn’t expected that. Niall was all sharp edges and grunts and that unreadable scowl, but today… There had been something else today. Something softer. The way he’d crouched down to their level, the way his tone had changed, the way the kids had looked at him like he was someone worth admiring.
I liked that version of him. Probably more than I should.
I turned my head toward the wall, the one separating our rooms. Was he awake, too? Lying there thinking about me the way I was thinking about him?
Don’t be stupid. Tomorrow, he’d probably be back to pretending I didn’t exist. I shouldn’t set myself up for more disappointment where Niall was concerned.
I clenched my jaw and willed myself to sleep. But then my body reminded me just how long it had been since I’d had someone in bed with me. Since I’d felt someone else’s weight pressed against me, their breath mixing with mine, their hands?—
Fuck.
I swallowed, shifting against the sheets. Almost six months. That was how long it had been since I left my ex. And, even though people often joked that the best way to get over someone was by getting under someone else, that simply wasn’t how I operated. I didn’t judge those who chose that path; everyone coped with life’s curveballs in their own way. That just wasn’t how I dealt with heartbreak.
Still, my body didn’t seem to care about my principles. Didn’t care that Niall was the last person I should be thinking about.
I was.
A shiver ran through me, heat pooling low in my stomach. I let out a slow breath, my body already on autopilot, my hand slipping beneath the waistband of my sleep pants—no underwear to hinder my path.
