Guess he already knew I was going to move.
Eden held me close, his grip firm yet gentle, as if he was afraid I would disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, his breath warm against my icy skin.
“I don’t even have an agent,” he admitted. “My friends think I do.”
While I wasn’t exactly sure what that meant or what an agent did for players, I still nuzzled closer to him, offering what I hoped was comfort. “Do your parents expect you to continue with hockey?”
Eden shook his head immediately. “They would never.” He looked up, his green eyes meeting mine. “All my parents want is for me to be happy. Seriously, that’s all they care about. It’s all theyevercared about.”
“Then what are you afraid of, Eden? Nobody’s forcing you or should ever be able to force you to go pro,” I spoke, cupping his face with my hands.
“Would you still like me if I didn’t play hockey?” he asked, and he sounded almost bored by his own question. God, did he really think everyone only liked him because he was a hockey player?
That was awful.
“Of course I’d still like you,” I replied. “But I was being serious, Eden. What are you afraid of?”
His gaze softened, and his lips tugged up into a tender smile. But as he replied, his whole face drained of that softness. “Disappointing everyone. My family. My friends. But more importantly myself,” he answered. “Hockey is all I’ve ever known. I’m good at it. I know, if I continue, Iwillbe successful with it. But if I walk away from it, what do I have?”
I felt a pang in my chest at his words, realizing the weight of expectation that burdened him. But more than that, I saw the vulnerability in his eyes, the fear of stepping into the unknown.
I knew that feeling all too well. He didn’t know, couldn’t have known either… but if I managed to step into the unknown a while ago and survive, I was more than sure that he could do it, too.
“You just said you would want to take over the restaurants for your dad,” I said. “You always say that my weight doesn’t defineme. So, Sir Eden King, let me be the one to tell you that hockey doesn’t define whoyouare.”
Eden held my gaze for a moment, not speaking, probably not even breathing, until his lips slowly curved into a smile, and he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to my forehead. “So you do listen when I talk.”
“Sometimes,” I replied, caressing his cheek with my fingers. “You sure talk a lot.”
“You love it.” Eden brought his hands to my neck, grasping me gently as he held me in place.
Before I knew it, his lips met mine in a tender, hesitant kiss. It was soft and sweet, but my body responded to it immediately, arching toward him as I parted my lips, inviting him to deepen the kiss.
Eden didn’t hesitate, his tongue slipping into my mouth with a hungry groan.
His tongue swept over mine in a rhythm that sent shivers down my spine, and I could feel the heat building between us. It was such an unfamiliar feeling, yet somehow, I couldn’t get enough of it.
I moaned into his mouth as my hands roamed over his chest, feeling his muscles, carefully at first as if to ensure Eden was okay with my touch. He didn’t seem to mind it at all.
He broke the kiss first, panting as he looked into my eyes. “Fuck.”
“Sorry, I—” I was about to move off him when Eden gripped my hips tighter, forcing me to stay.
“You’re killing me,baby.”
Before I could reply at all, Eden claimed my mouth once again. His hands moved to my waist, pulling me even tighter against him as he ground his hips into mine.
I gasped—or tried to anyway—when I realized that I could feel the hardness of his erection press against me. “Eden,” I said, breaking the kiss to look at him.
“Do you want me to stop?”
I should’ve said yes, I knew that. It would’ve only blurred our whole deal if we crossed any more lines.
And yet, what came out of me was, “I’ve never done this before.”
Eden smiled at me, leaned in, and placed a soft kiss on my forehead. “I’ll be gentle.”
“Okay.”
