I grab my coffee mug and top it off before sliding onto a stool, watching while he arranges everything onto a plate. "When do you guys play again?"
"Tomorrow," he murmurs. "I'm going straight to the arena from the airport for practice."
"Do you need a ride to the airport?"
"Nah," he says over his shoulder, "I need to run to the hotel and grab my shit first. I called an Uber driver I met yesterday. He's already on the way."
"Oh," I say, a little disappointed. When he appeared in my office yesterday, I desperately wanted him to leave. Now, the thought makes my chest ache.
I think he hears the disappointment in my voice because he immediately turns to me, his eyes locking with mine. "Don't think that means this is over between us, Tia," he says, his voice soft. "This isn't me getting what I want from you and bowing out. It just means I know you've got shit to do if you're going to be in Chicago by Monday. I'm trying not to add more to your plate while you do it."
"I didn't think that," I say.
"Liar." He scoops my plate up, sauntering across the kitchen toward me. Once he reaches me, he sets it in front of me, then wraps my hair in his fist, craning my head back until it's at an angle, his eyes directly above mine. "This thing between us is just starting, beautiful. And once you're in Chicago, I'm not backing off until your heart is mine."
I swallow convulsively, a tiny surge of panic shooting through me—not because he means it. But because I think it might already be too late for that.
God help me, but I think I'malreadyfalling for him.
Judging by the heated look in his eyes, he knows it, too. And he's freaking thrilled about it.
Chapter Eight
Briggs
By the time I get to the practice arena from the airport, I'm exhausted. Sleeping with Tia in the next room was impossible, especially after listening to her come. It's all I thought about all night.
She'd probably kill me if she knew just how many times I tried her door, just to see if it was still locked. Every time it didn't move, this strange mix of relief and frustration coursed through me, making me more jittery than ever.
Had the door been unlocked, I would have fucked her last night. My self-control was in tatters, torn to shreds by the way she moaned my name through the wall. And had I fucked her, I think she would have regretted it this morning. She isn't quite there yet.
She's close, so fucking close, but she needs time to sit with what she's feeling. She needs time to fully separate me from Daniel in her mind and process that I play hockey…but I'm not the same hockey player who destroyed her trust and her confidence.
I can be patient until then. Well, as patient as possible. Can I keep my hands to myself? As I proved this morning, absolutely the fuck not.
It's ironic, really. After weeks of wishing she were right here, right now, I'm suddenly relieved that she's in a different state for the next five days. The distance will guarantee that I can't fuck up what's between us before it even truly begins.
Will it piss me off? Hell yes. But I can live with that. I don't think I can live with moving too fast and unraveling the progress we've made.
"Well, well, well," Ryan shouts from center ice as soon as I step into the arena, his voice echoing. The sharp, familiar smell of the ice does little to clear my head. Neither does the sound of a puck ricocheting off the boards. "He's returned!"
Half the team turns to look at me.
I just shoot them a two-finger wave and head for the locker room to suit up. I'm not even halfway down the old, scuffed hallway when Karsen growls my name.
I glance up to find him at the far end, near the weight room, a scowl etched onto his face, his skates slung over his shoulder. Fuck my life.
He immediately stomps in my direction.
"What's up?" I ask, wary. Karsen is a damn good captain. He can also be a crabby bastard who rarely minces words. When he's pissed, you know it.
"Your mother was here earlier," he says.
My entire body goes rigid. "What the fuck?"
"She said she was looking for you," he mutters, stopping in front of me. "Claimed it was an emergency."
"Jesus Christ." I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Did she say what kind of emergency?"
