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His broad hands grip my hips, pinning me to the brick wall. I bite his full lower lip and he growls low in his throat. The sound rips through me, every nerve ending suddenly on fire.
We kiss like we're trying to consume each other. Like this one stolen moment can make up for a lifetime at each other's throats. He kisses like he skates—intense, passionate, pouring his entire being into the motion.
I lose track of time and place, lost in the blistering slide of his lips on mine. We break apart gasping, flushed and disheveled. His arctic blue eyes are almost eclipsed by his blown pupils. I know I must look just as wrecked.
The weight of what just happened hangs suspended between us. I watch emotions war across his face—desire, uncertainty, defiance. Before I can speak, he turns abruptly and steps away.
I slump back against the wall, knees weak, mind reeling. I touch my tingling lips, heart pounding against my ribs. Dick harder than it’s ever been. What the fuck just happened?
Sudden exhaustion sweeps over me. I stare up at the few stars visible beyond the hazy glow of the city.
"Truce," I concede roughly. This ceasefire between us feels different from our past false starts. A layer of resentment seems to have burned away tonight, leaving behind something cautiously honest. And hot as fuck, for whatever that’s worth.
Guess it’s easier to go back to the conversation we were having before the kiss that tilted my world on its axis than acknowledging it happened or talk about it. For both of us.
Riot's eyes stay intent on my face. "So talk to me. What's really going on?" He asks again, softer this time, still with some of that gravel in his voice.
I glance away, warring with myself. No way can I tell him the truth. That he's the reason my head's been fucked lately on the ice. Just being around him throws me off my game in ways I don't understand.
Though now he probably has some idea.
The urge to unburden myself wars with years of learned distrust. Riot waits, blue gaze unwavering.
"Just got some personal shit going on, alright?" I finally bite out. "I'll keep it locked down tight for playoffs. You don't need to worry about me fucking up out there."
Something complicated crosses Riot's face. He looks poised to say more when the metal door suddenly swings open.
"There you assholes are!" Tris exclaims. Behind him, curious faces peer out into the alley. "Everyone's doing shots to celebrate. Your asses better be back inside in thirty seconds or I'm coming to drag you both back myself."
He aims a warning look between us, then disappears back inside. The interruption breaks the spell that had fallen over this hidden backstreet. Reality—and the memory of our blistering kiss—seeps back in.
Riot scrubs an inked hand through his hair, glancing my way. "We should get back."
I nod, the ghost of his lips on mine still lingering. I can still taste him on my tongue. As I turn toward the door, Riot's voice stops me.
"For what it's worth... you've seemed off during practice lately. But never once have I doubted your skill." He clears his throat roughly. "You're the most talented wing I've ever played with. Don't forget that."
I stare at him, staggered by the unexpected confession. Our locked gazes simmer with unspoken heat. Before I can formulate a response, he slips through the door, leaving me reeling in the alley.
That's the closest thing to a compliment Golden Boy has ever paid me. Between that and his mild truce offering, my mind spins, trying to realign this new perception of him. One now irrevocably shifted by the intense kiss we just shared.
My lips tingle at the memory of his claiming mine so fiercely just moments before. The way he kissed me breathless against this brick wall, like he wanted to consume me. Nothing will ever be the same after that explosion of long-denied desire between us. Where our story goes from here, I have no fucking clue. But everything has changed in this dark alley tonight.
That kiss knocked my world off its damn axis. Made me see the man behind the haughty mask, if only for a moment. I press my fingers to my still-buzzing lips, heart pounding out a jagged rhythm in my chest.
And I’ve never wanted a guy before.Ever.
One thing's for sure—Golden Boy and I have a helluva lot left to settle between us. And that kiss was just the beginning.
I take a minute to pull myself together before heading back inside. The celebrations are still in full swing, but my path feels irrevocably altered by whatever just happened out in that alley.
The rest of the night passes in an adrenaline-soaked blur. But my thoughts keep straying back to Riot's enigmatic expression in the fractured neon light after his grudging admission. That brief glimpse at the man behind the haughty mask.
Something between us shifted out there tonight. The ground beneath my feet feels unsteady, like it’s made of quicksand.
I have no fucking clue where we stand now. But I can't deny that for the first time in too damn long, a flicker of hope stirs inside my chest.
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