Page 14 of Hot for Her
She hesitated as if carefully wording her response in her mind. “She seemed toknow you. Really well.”
“She doesn’t. Not at all actually.” I let my thumb trace her lower lip. I wanted to suck it up in my mouth so badly. “You want toknow me,Emersyn?”
After a sharp intake of breath, she nodded. “Yeah. I think so.”
At that moment, I realized she was shivering. Her clothes were still soaked. I was inconsiderately lusting after her while she froze to death right in front of me.
“God, here you are freezing solid and I’m so distracted by your perfect mouth hypothermia is about to set in. Hang on.” I stepped away, briefly, to turn on the small space heater. “You want a shirt or some dry clothes to put on?”
“I’m okay,” she mumbled, suddenly shy again.
“You are more than okay,” I teased. “But let me grab you something.”
I stepped into the bedroom area and pulled open the bottom drawer where I kept extra sweats. Part of me wanted to keep a hand on her while I did in case she considered bolting on me. But when I returned, there she stood, a vision of perfection I’d probably wake up believing I’d dreamed.
I handed her some black sweatpants, a white T-shirt, and a blue and white flannel. “There’s a small bathroom in there where you can change.”
I stepped aside, inhaling her wildflower and rain scent as she passed.
I didn’t have any coffee, but there were a few packets of instant hot chocolate on the counter. I heated some milk in two mugs in the microwave and was stirring the chocolate in when she came out, looking less damp but still like a wet dream in my clothes.
“I didn’t have any coffee,” I told her, “but this should warm you up a little.”
She took her mug and smiled. “I love hot cocoa. I usually have an el diablo at work—half hot chocolate, half coffee.”
“Sounds good. I’ll have to remember that next time I stop in.”
I walked over to the small booth-style table and pulled out the bench seat. It wasn’t that comfortable of a place to sit, but I didn’t want her to panic if I suggested we sit on the bed.
“How long have you been working at Octane?”
She sipped her drink then continued staring into it. “Um, just the past two summers. Camille works there, too.”
“Ah, the illusive Camille. Does she typically disappear on you?”
Emersyn shrugged. “I don’t hang out with her much. She’s closer with my friend Drew.”
We continued talking, sitting across from one another at the table and I realized I was going to wuss out on making an actual move.
I didn’t know why exactly, but what was happening between us, her opening up and actually getting to know me, felt too important to fuck up with sex.
What the hell is happening to me?
I couldn’t help it. Our time together felt rushed, limited. I knew once her phone charged, she’d likely have her friend come get her and disappear. I set my drink aside and leaned toward her. “Tell me something about you no one knows.”
Her eyes met mine. “You first.”
“Smart girl.” I watched her graceful fingers wrap around her mug. “Okay, here’s something.” My gaze drifted to my hockey bag in the corner. “I wanted to play professional hockey—for most of my life it was all I wanted. I had a shot once. A scout came to see me, several college ones did, but a guy who recruits for the Nashville Predators’ minor league team came and said I could join them right out of high school and would probably be playing for the NHL within a year or two.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah. It was a pretty big deal at the time, I guess.”
She scoffed out loud, setting her drink aside. “You guess? Aiden, the NHL, that’s…insane. That’s like someone offering me exhibit space in the Guggenheim.”
I shrug, ready to move on to her secret now. “I couldn’t leave Axel like that. He gave up a lot to look out for me when our parents died. Hockey was his dream and he was damn good. Me leaving him to go pro would have been seriously messed up—like salt in the wound.”
Emersyn frowned. “Or he would’ve been really proud of you. Maybe he sacrificed his dream in hopes you wouldn’t have to give up yours. Did you ever talk to him about it?”
