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I know Megan puts a lot of herself into the job, working long hours and often taking the job home with her.
And my dad—forget about it, he lives for hockey. It was one of the sticking points between my mom and him. He was always as good a husband and father as he knew how to be, and he always tried hard and made time for my mom and me, but there was no disputing that he was obsessed with his job.
After the divorce, and after my mom and I moved to Georgia, I know that he’s thrown himself into it even more.
They’re both the type who can let their career success come at the expense of their personal lives. It’s not surprising to see them both appear as fish out of water when it comes to … whatever’s going on between them.
Luckily for them, the rules only prohibit team staff from relationships with players; relationships between members of support staff are above-board. So, they wouldn’t be breaking any rules if that is what’s going on between them—unlike me and Liam.
When the waiter comes to bring us a couple bowls of bread as an appetizer, he accidentally bumps against Walsh’s drink, spilling it on my lap. The poor waiter apologizes so much that I want to apologize back. I tell him it’s no big deal and go to the bathroom to wipe Walsh’s Pepsi off my skirt and dry up as best I can.
When I come out of the bathroom, my breath catches in my chest—Liam’s leaning against the wall in the small, dimly-lit alcove set far back from the dining area of the restaurant.
His thick, corded forearms are crossed casually over his broad chest, and his emerald eyes that sparkle even in the dim light fall on me with a hungry gleam.
“Liam,” I startle. “What are you …?”
He steps forward, grabbing my jaw between his thumb and forefinger, the calloused pads of his fingers feeling rough against my soft skin.
“I had to do this,” he says, dipping to snatch up my mouth in a quick, firm kiss.
I inhale a jagged breath when his lips pull away. “We keep breaking our rules,” I whisper.
“I keep underestimating how fucking hard it is to keep my hands off you, wherever we are,” he says, his breath hitched with restraint.
We both know that at any second, the wrong person could walk up this tiny hallway and see us.
“Come to my place tonight,” he says.
“Your place?” I repeat his words, surprised. “How? You live with, like, half a dozen roommates.”
“We’re all planning on going out tonight after dinner to celebrate. I’ll just say I came down with a headache, or I’m feeling sick. We’ll have the whole place to ourselves for hours.”
Hoursalone with Liam, tonight, when we weren’t planning on having any time for ourselves over the next two days. The thought makes my thighs clench and spikes my anticipation.
“You’re on,” I say.
His plush lips curl into a smile, popping his dimples. He presses himself against me, and my stomach twists as I feel his hand crawl up my skirt. Slowly, torturously he traces the length of my slit over my thin cotton panties, the light but firm pressure of his finger making a delicious ache throb deep in my center.
My legs feel like they’re about to turn into jelly. When he pulls his hand away, I almost whimper from the absence of him, frustrated want sinking in my chest as I burn for him, my hips involuntarily bucking forward, my body yearning to chase his touch.
“Needy girl,” he chuckles, his low voice teasing me. “That was just an appetizer. See you later for the main course.”
My eyes turn into wide saucers as he brings his index finger up and slowly licks it, moaning as he tastes my dampness.
“You should go back first,” he says, breaking away from me and heading to the men’s room door. “Don’t want anybody to be suspicious.”
A deadly smirk is the last thing I see as he disappears inside the bathroom.
I take a moment to compose myself before I walk back to the table. Once I’m seated, the space to the left of me empty for a couple minutes, I start to grin.
If Liam wants to tease me like that, I have a pretty good idea how to make him pay for it later tonight.
19
LIAM
“Feel better, bro,” Tristan says, the last one to leave the Ice Box as they all pile out the front door. I nod to him as he shuts the door behind him while I lounge on the couch, my head reclining on a pillow and my eyes closed like I’m nursing a headache.
