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That is, until the kiss. It all happened so fast, I didn’t even really realize what’s was going on until it was basically too late. It was just an innocent kiss under the mistletoe. It didn’t really mean much of anything, but the look in Hattie’s eyes just before Emery’s lips pressed to mine made my heart clench and a sick feeling rise up in my stomach. She looked…stricken, her blue eyes flashing with pain, her face paling. The room erupted in cheers and jeers and when I pulled away from Emery, Hattie was nowhere to be found.
I need to talk to her to figure out what’s going on. If sheisupset that I’d been set up on a blind date tonight, if what I think I saw on her face during the kiss means what I think it did…Well, I think it means that we have a big conversation that needs to be had. But, what if…
Fuck, what if the whole Emery thing, or, more acutely, thekisswith Emery thing, had made Hattie think better of the whole idea? Made her decide that whatever she’d been about to say or do wasn’t such a good idea after all? Did everything I want slip through my fingers somehow without me even realizing it? I want to scream in frustration, though I do my best to act normal on the outside. Whatever is going on with Hattie, or between the two of us, I need to figure the fuck out. Emery is great, and in another situation, I’d probably be interested, but not now. Even the kiss under the mistletoe hadn’t had any kind of spark. It was fine, but I don’t want fine. I want fire and passion and connection. I…fuck, I want Hattie,onlyHattie, plain and simple.
I search the room yet again, but can’t seem to find her. After the kiss, I got the distinct impression that she was avoiding me, and I get that, but I need to talk to her. The need is acute, nearing panic, and I can’t even explain why. I just get the feeling like I’m racing against the clock, like I only have a finite amount of time to fix this tonight, to get shit back where I want it. We’d been so fucking close, I know it.
I check the patio again, but no luck, and she’s not responding to any of my texts.
“Hey, have you seen Hattie?” I yell to Jules over the music. The party is in full swing now, seeming more like a night club than an elegant Christmas gathering.
“I saw her leaving a few minutes ago with Rizzo.”
I rear back as if I’ve been slapped.No. No fucking way.
“Rizz? You’re sure?”
“Yeah man. Arm and arm like they were walking down the aisle or some shit.” He laughs, stumbling a bit. “Rizz walking down the aisle. Can you imagine that!? Not in a million fucking years.” He shakes his head, laughing again before pointing to someone across the dance floor and grinning. He claps me on the shoulder and walks away.
Hattie left with Rizzo, but…it couldn’t have been what it looked like. I feel sick, but before I can really process any of this shit, Emery comes back from the restroom.
“I think I’m done dancing…” she says, giving me a very pointed look, and it takes me a second to realize what she’s saying. I don’t know why I’m surprised: she’s been pretty flirtatious all night. Touching me every chance she gets, not hesitating at all to kiss me under the mistletoe, even in front of so many people. She’s a single mom out for the night with a pro athlete. Not saying there’s anything wrong with her wanting what she’s wanting, not at all, but I’m not the one to give it to her. The old me would have absolutely taken her up to my room, enjoyed the hell out of a night with her—and then probably never called her again. But I can’t do it.
“It was really great meeting you tonight, but I’m just…” I let out a long breath, deciding not to sugarcoat anything. “This just isn’t going to work out, I’m sorry.”
“Oh.” She looks a bit surprised, but recovers quickly. “It’s alright, it was worth a shot,” she hikes her shoulder, “and, it was a night out with a bunch of professional hockey players, so it’s a cool story, at least.” She smiles and then tilts her head. “It’s Hattie, isn’t it? The reason this isn’t going to work, I mean. It’s because you’re already hoping something works out with her?” I don’t have the energy to deflect, and honestly, I don’t want to lie about it, not anymore.
“Yes, it is. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. The way you two look at each other…Well, I’m not surprised.” She doesn’t seem upset or anything, giving me a warm smile. I return it, glad I haven’t managed to screw upeverythingtonight and that she isn’t leaving wanting to throw a drink in my face or anything.
“Do you need a ride home or anything? I can call you a cab or…?”
“I’m good,” she says with a smile. “It was really nice meeting you, Shep.” She leans in and gives me a quick kiss on the cheek and then heads over to where Kasey is dancing with Bobby and a few of the guys from the team beneath the flashing lights.
Shep. She calls me Shep, just like everyone else…but Hattie had called meConnorearlier—and I fucking liked it. It was like some secret between just the two of us, something reserved only for her, because with her, I’m a different person than I am with anyone else. She lets me be completely myself. No reservations, no worries, justme.Good, bad, ugly—she accepts it all.Fuck.I really am completely in love with her.
The thought staggers me and I feel like I need to sit down. I knew I had feelings for her, had even thought that Imighthave been falling, but now it seems so fucking obvious. I’m completely in love with her…and she might be fucking someone else right this second. I clench my fists and grind my teeth as the thought fills me with a fiery jealousy that I have no right to feel. I check my phone and still no response from my last text.
Part of me denies that she's up there with Rizzo. I know that Rizzo suspects how I feel and know that he would never do that to me…but I also know that mistakes happen when alcohol is involved and the decision-making starts happening below the belt. I know Rizz is all mixed up with his shit with Nat, and Hattie…well, she may very well be pissed at me or hurt or a mix of both. If the two of them decided to distract themselves from their own perspective emotional shit for a while by falling into bed together, they technically had every damn right to.
Suddenlyverydone with the party, I say my goodbyes and head to the elevators, loosening my tie as I go. Though it wasn’t exactly my fault, I feel like I ruined something tonight, and the thought of Hattie with Rizz makes me want to puke or put my fist through the nearest window—or both.
“Fuck.” I interlock my fingers behind my head and stare up at the two-story foyer. The elevator dings and I sigh, lowering my hands and my head.
And she’s there.
Hattie is there in the elevator, staring at me like a deer in headlights. We both seem frozen, time stilling all around us, everything else becoming a bit hazy. All I can see is Hattie. It’s just like during games. Everything else quiets around me, goes slightly blurry, and all I can see is the puck. It becomes my sole focus, my sole purpose. In those moments on the ice, it’s all that matters.
And, here, in this moment, Hattie is all that matters.
“Connor,” she whispers.
That’s all it takes. Something inside me cracks and I cross into the elevator. I reach out to cradle her face and my lips crash to hers.Finally!Her lips are soft and warm, moving in time with mine. I groan as I tilt my head, deepening the kiss, thrusting my tongue against hers. I’ve been thinking about kissing Hattie for weeks and now that it's finally happening, I’m in fucking heaven.This, I think.This is what kissing someone should feel like. Fire and passion and a connection unlike anything I’ve ever felt. One of her hands grips the back of my neck, holding me tightly to her and the other rests on my chest. Can she feel how erratic my heartbeat is?
I press her back into the wall of the elevator and she gasps when I arch my hips against her, her fingers tangling in my hair. I barely have any control over my body, the need for her rearing up like an animal inside me. Hell, part of me wants to fuck her right here and now in this elevator, but thankfully I have enough control left to stop that from happening.Barely.
“Hattie,” I whisper against her lips and her breath hitches. She’s not Mac now. She’s Hattie.MyHattie.
