Page 17 of Slap Shot
When they finally broke apart, both gasping in the cold air, the arena was quiet around them. Oliver rested his forehead against hers. Their breath mingled in small clouds between them, and Heather could feel the rapid beat of his heart through his equipment. Their breath formed small clouds between them,and Heather realized she was trembling, not from cold, but from the intensity of finally crossing this line they'd been dancing around.
"We should probably get off the ice," Oliver said, his voice rough with want.
Heather nodded, not trusting herself to speak. They gathered their equipment in charged silence, the easy banter from earlier replaced by something thick and electric. In the equipment room, as they unlaced their skates, every accidental brush of fingers was like a spark.
"Heather," Oliver said as she was hanging up her borrowed gear.
She turned to find him standing closer than she'd expected, close enough that she could see the rapid pulse at the base of his throat. "Yeah?"
"I need you to know that what happened out there, what's happening between us, it's not just adrenaline or proximity or some kind of workplace fantasy." His dark eyes searched hers. "I've never felt anything like this before."
The honesty in his voice made something crack open in her chest. "Oliver—"
"I know all the reasons we shouldn't. I know it complicates everything." He reached up to trace her jaw with his thumb, the touch sending shivers down her spine. "But I also know that I've been thinking about kissing you since the first day in the coffee shop.
"Me too," she whispered.
When he leaned down to kiss her again, Heather rose on her toes to meet him halfway. This kiss was slower, deeper, filled with a promise that made her knees weak. Oliver's hands framed her face like she was something precious, and when she slid her fingers into his hair, he made a sound low in his throat that sent heat pooling through her entire body.
He backed her against the equipment lockers, the metal cold against her back while his body was warm, solid, real in a way that made her head spin. His hands slid into her hair, angling her head so he could deepen the kiss, and Heather’s knees went weak.
"God, you taste incredible," he murmured against her mouth, his voice rough with restraint.
She'd been kissed before, but never like this. Never with this combination of desperate need and careful tenderness that made her feel cherished and desired in equal measure.
"Oliver," she breathed when they finally broke apart.
"Too fast?" he asked, though his hands remained gentle but possessive in her hair.
"Not fast enough," she replied, surprising them both with her honesty.
When he kissed her again, it was with renewed hunger, his mouth moving against hers while his hands stroked the curves of her body. Heather pulled him closer, needing to feel every inch of him pressed against her, needing to convince herself this was real.
They broke apart only when breathing became necessary, both of them flushed and slightly disheveled in the dim lighting of the equipment room.
"This is going to complicate everything," Heather said softly, though she made no move to step away from his embrace.
"I know." Oliver's thumb traced along her cheekbone, his touch gentle despite the heat still burning in his eyes. "Are you okay with complicated?"
Looking into his eyes, Heather realized she was tired of simple choices that felt wrong.
"Yeah," she said, surprising herself with the certainty in her voice. "I think I am."
"Good," he said, pressing one more soft kiss on her lips.
“Do you think you can sleep now?” she asked.
“With you?” He nuzzled her neck.
Closing her eyes, she luxuriated in the feeling. “My place or yours?”
“Which is closer?”
Chapter Five
Heather
Heather's hands shook. The damn key wouldn't turn, and she could feel Oliver watching her fumble with the lock like some nervous teenager. Impatiently she jiggled the key again, metal grinding against metal in the quiet hallway. Behind her, Oliver shifted his weight, and the movement sent his scent washing over her—soap and something warm and male that made her stomach flip.
