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My ex was a respected chef, trained at Le Cordon Bleu in Paris and was friends with all the tops chefs. He blamed the failure on me. Made me look like an asshole while my peers were watching. If I want to work in the industry again, I need to move far away from here. Except that would mean leaving Ollie behind, and I can’t do that.
I flip the lock on the front door and head back to the kitchen to set another timer. The front door opens. Two hushed male voices fill the air, and a shiver rolls down my arms.
“Ollie,” I call out, voice trembling.
“Yeah, sis.”
I draw a breath from between my teeth. “Who are you talking to?”
Before Ollie can answer, he’s standing at the entrance to my kitchen with one of his teammates.
River Westbrook.
The one player on the Flyers I look for from the stands. Ollie always sends me tickets. On the occasion I can make one of his home games, my eyes follow River when he’s on the ice. He’s really fast and talented, one of the top defensemen in the league. And too hot for his own good.
“Hey,” I choke out, now all too aware of my batter-stained clothes. “You didn’t mention you were bringing someone with you.”
I have powdered sugar in my hair that’s piled into a messy bun on top of my head. Streaks of chocolate runs down the length of my right arm, dried into place. That’s probably cherry on my collar.
I’m a hot mess.
“It’s just River.” Ollie throws his arm around me, not giving a damn that I’m covered in food. He kisses my cheek and squeezes me. “I didn’t think you would mind.”
“The more the merrier.” I slap on a forced grin. “As you can see,” I say, waving my hand at the messy space, “I can use all the help I can get.”
My brother towers over me, almost a full foot taller. We’re identical in every way, except for his height. He got that from our father. I got my mom’s small stature. She was so small my dad could tuck her under his arm, which is what Ollie is doing right now.
“You should take off your shirts,” I suggest without realizing how it sounds.
River gives me one of his killer smirks that touches his navy blue irises. They’re such a deep blue they almost appear black. “You wanna see me naked, Em?”
Someone save me.
Emma
Do I want to see River naked?
Fuck. Yes.
Blush creeps up my neck, spreading to my cheeks. With him standing less than a foot from me, I can smell his musky cologne. My skin tingles from his deep voice that has a ridiculous effect on me.
“No,” I say to save face. “You guys are wearing expensive shirts.” I motion at my dirty apron. “As you can see, this is a pretty messy job.”
He runs a hand through his black hair to push it off his forehead. My God, this man is beautiful. And oh, so tempting. But dating is one hundred percent off the table. Hot flings with even hotter hockey players are definitely not happening.
This isn’t the first time River has flirted with me. He’s played for the Flyers a year longer than my brother and is also the team captain. Every hockey event I’ve attended, he’s gotten me alone. Hit on me, tired to tempt me over to the dark side.
For almost all of those encounters, I was engaged. Now that I’m finally single, my life is falling apart. And I can’t get involved with a player like River.
Ollie strips off his shirt, standing in my kitchen with his washboard abs on display. Throughout high school, he spent hours in the gym. And when he wasn’t working out, he was on the ice or playing hockey out back of our house.
Hockey is the love of his life.
Cooking is mine.
Like our parents, we’re both very passionate about our work. They were both entrepreneurs. My mom was an architect, and my dad ran a successful restaurant in the Hollywood Hills. No matter how busy there were, they always had time for us. Never missed any of Ollie’s hockey games or my school plays.
My brother turns his back on River and walks over to the counter. He surveys the trays of cookies that are cooling like he’s thinking about steal one when I’m not looking.
“Can you box the pizzelle?” I ask him. “It’s right there, beside the tray.”
He nods, then gets to work without further instruction. Ollie is good like that, always clutch when I need him.
“Where do you want me?” River’s eyes find mine as he slowly unbuttons his shirt.
It’s long-sleeve and black, the first three buttons revealing dark hair on his chest. He takes his sweet ass time, flicking open one button at a time as if he’s moving in slow motion.
