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I’m not sure what I thought I’d accomplish coming over here. It doesn’t really feel like I got it, but it’s time to go anyway. I walk to the door and when Natalie stops next to me, I turn to her. Let out a slow breath as I look her over. She’s fucking Baxter’s little sister and I’ve got a career about to go to the next level. Nothing is going to happen between us.
Still, that mouth. I can’t help thinking about what it was like making it mine.
Natalie blinks up at me, nervous, sweet. “What?”
I don’t have to answer. I could shake my head and walk out the door. But instead, I brush my thumb across the silky skin of her cheek. “You could have told me you were leaving.”
“And then?” she asks, her voice unsteady.
“And then I would have kissed you goodbye just like this.”
With my finger caught in the soft spot beneath her chin, I tip her face to mine and duck my head to press one last kiss to her mouth. Soft and slow, I hold that contact for a beat. Long enough to feel her quake beneath my kiss, for her hands to rest feather light against my chest… and to know without a doubt I shouldn’t have let myself have another taste.
“See you around, Allie.”
Chapter 3
Natalie
“Hello? Earth to Natalie,” Helene Bomer sings, setting the roll of resistance bands she’s carrying on the end of the counter where I’ve been updating the chart for my last physical therapy patient.
Glancing back at her, I make a face. “Sorry! What were you saying?”
“I was asking why you’ve been running your fingers over your mouth all day.” Her arms come up and cross over her ample chest as she cocks her head and narrows her eyes. “But now I’m asking if you’ve been holding out on me, because there is definitely something going on here.”
Sure enough, my fingers are tracing a path across my lips… and I’ve totally been holding out on her. It’s been two days since my encounter with Vaughn, two days since the kiss I can’t stop obsessing over, and two days since I’ve been able to look one of my oldest friends in the eyes.
But I can’t keep this up. I need to talk to someone. I’ve just been too much of a chicken to do it.
Letting out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, I slump back and whisper, “It happened.”
Soft brown eyes bug at me, and then she’s got my hand towing me through the clinic to her favorite storage closet for gossip. I know better than to resist, and not just because she’s a heck of a lot stronger than her five-foot-three stature suggests. I’ve known Helene since we played together in college. And now, just like then, this girl doesn’t stop.
Pulling the closet door closed, she whirls around. “Does George know?”
She’s talking about Georgia Bowen, goalie from our Wisconsin days and the only other person who knows what happened in Vancouver.
Scanning the shelves, I fiddle with a box of Kinesio Tape. “Not yet.”
A couple swipes of her thumb and she props her phone against an orthopedic walking boot so we’re both visible on one side and on the other we’ve got George with a wall of bikes behind her. She shoves a fall of red curls from her pixie cut out of her face.
Helene leans closer to the phone. “It happened.”
Something heavy and metallic sounding clatters against the ground from George’s end, and she swipes the phone up so the background spins. When it stops, I can see she’s in the back stairwell behind the shop. “You saw him? He knows?”
“He showed up at my door.”
Helene gasps. “Does Greg know?”
“Vaughn says he won’t say anything.”
George huffs. “This is the guy who punched your brother in the face after one week of practicing together. I’m not seeing a lot of restraint there.”
I shake my head. “Maybe not, but from what Rux says, Greg wasn’t exactly a victim either. He just happens to have that whole hometown hero thing going for him, while Vaughn’s new to the team and brings a reputation that isn’t quite so polished.”
“Whatever.” George flips the straw on her water bottle and takes a drink. “I knew this guy was going to be a problem for you.”
So the thing about George is, for as much as she loves hockey—playing it, watching it—she’s not a fan of the pro players. Like, at all. I don’t totally get it, but she won’t get into the details.
