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Natalie
I swallowand shove my phone into my wristlet.
I have no idea how to reply to Luke, so I don’t. Instead, I pick up my drink and take a sip.
Luke doesn’t know that I booked a suite in the same resort he’s staying at. He told me I could sneak into his room, but I wanted a place to change after the game. So, while the team finished up their team stuff, I traded my jersey for a skintight black shirt with sleeves to my elbows and came over here to the central bar at the casino next to the resort, where we said we’d meet.
We didn’t have an exact time, so I’ve been nursing this vodka tonic and reading a book on my phone for the last twenty minutes.
I take another sip.
There is no reason for me to be nervous, for all the same reasons there was no reason for me to be nervous about my seat at the game.
The game.
I haven’t gotten any angry calls from my dad, so even if that little scene from the penalty box made it to TV, no one identified me.
Not that the public should know who I am. But certain circles do.
Someone shouts something, and I lift my gaze to see a group of large men approach the bar.
I take another quick sip.
Men walking with that bearing can only mean one thing.
Athletes.
Sure enough, the cluster of guys I’ve been lurking near lift their hands, drawing the new group closer.
A few hollered whoops and cheers ring out as other bar-goers recognize the players.
They’re mostly dressed in button-down shirts. But I can’t focus on them.
Because Luke is here.
He’s still a dozen strides away, but he looks devilishly good in his black shirt, with the sleeves rolled up and the top two buttons open, showing off all that delicious, inked skin.
I can feel it—the moment he spots me.
His lids lower, his jaw works, and his hands flex at his sides.
Heat floods my belly.
I set my glass down on the high-top table next to me.
And I brace myself.
Luke closes the distance between us, not slowing until he’s one step away.
He reaches up and slides his hand along my cheek until he’s palming the back of my head.
My skin prickles with anticipation as my eyes slide closed and my head tips back.
Luke doesn’t hesitate. He presses his lips against mine.
I flatten my hands against his chest, and his other hand spans my lower back, holding me in place.
The kiss is short. Demanding.
