Page 142 of Scarred

He’s still in full uniform and skates, his hair still sweaty and damp from the game as I take in the slight curls all askew on his head. I watch his chest rise and fall like he’s still coming off his high from playing the game minutes before and hasn’t had the time to catch his breath.

“Thanks, Bobby,” he says, never taking his green eyes off of mine.

“No problem, Blade. If you need anything else, just ask. It was nice meeting you, Luna,” Bobby says, forcing me to look his way.

“Nice to meet you too,” I smile.

He walks away, and I step through the elevator’s doors as they shut behind me, leaving us alone in the hallway.

I’m surprised to see it deserted and was expecting to be thrown into the staff and team members scrambling around after a game. Instead, we are in some kind of back corridor, away from the bustle of the main area.

“Aren’t you supposed to be doing interviews?”

“They can wait.”

“And showering?”

“Eventually,” he smiles, separating the distance between us until my back is against the wall.

I bite back a smile. “Then what are you doing?”

His eyes drop down to his jersey that I’m wearing before coming back up to me.

“I needed to see you first.”

He reaches out and brushes back a piece of my hair.

“Thanks for being here tonight,” he murmurs, tracing my bottom lip with his thumb.

“There’s no other place I’d rather be,” I whisper.

“God, I love hearing that,” he growls before his lips find mine.

His hands dive into my hair as I grip his jersey tightly in my hands. With his skates and pads still on, he towers over me as his mouth moves over mine in a desperate need to satisfy this hunger growing between us.

My tongue tangles with his, and I sink further into him as he shields me against the wall with his body.

When he finally breaks away, we’re both panting as he presses his forehead to mine.

“Think they would notice if I snuck out the back with you and just left?”

“Seeing as you’re the star player tonight…No,” I giggle.

“I hate press,” he mutters.

“I’ll be here when you’re done. You wouldn’t want to let your fans down,” I smile, winding my arms around his neck.

His brows furrow before he grabs my hand.

“Come with me,” he says, walking down the hall.

“Where are we going?” I laugh as I try to keep up. Even in his skates and the gear that must weigh a ton, he’s still a faster stride than I can keep up with.

“I’ve got to shower real quick before interviews.” He opens a door leading us to another hall that’s busier with team staff before stopping in front of the locker rooms. “Give me twenty and then we’ll go to press.”

“We?”

“Well, yeah,” he grins. “Did you really think I would let you out of my sight once I got you down here?”