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“Tiger?” I question.
Lifting his hand to my face, he cups my cheek and looks deep into my eyes. “You may be pure as untouched snow, but you’re hardly a white lily, are you? You have fire in your belly, drive, and ambition. You aren’t afraid to speak your mind. You remind me of a tiger lily; vibrant and striking. You’re a crazy ball of energy.” He pauses. “And I like the fact that you couldn’t give a fuck about who I am.”
Stunned by his words, joy sparkles in my chest. “Those are really beautiful things to say.” I feel like I’m glowing. “I had no idea who you were until twenty-four hours ago.” I’m embarrassed to admit that.
“Ouch.” He closes his eyes and shakes his head as if I dented his pride, but when he opens them again, they are dancing with humor. “Way to kill a guy’s ego.” His thumb continues to brush the skin of my cheek, the familiarity between us planting roots and growing faster than a cosmos flower.
“I googled you and I’m up to speed with everything about your career.” And absolutely nothing about his personal life; it’s a mystery. The only photos of him online are those with crowds of fans, organized meet and greets, charity events, and from what I managed to digest in a short time, he’s never been involved in scandals on or off the ice. I lay my hand over his that’s resting on my cheek, lean into it, and say, “And your dad’s.”
“He was a great man.”
“So are you.” I discovered that he donates generously to the children’s hospice on the outskirts of town and visits monthly. It made me like him more. If I’d had his number, I would have called him up to tell him how incredibly generous and kind he was.
He gulps loudly. “I think you’re pretty great.”
The same energy in the atmosphere I felt last night sparks between us, and it’s as if the world ceases to exist.
“Something is happening between us. What is it?” I ask, leaning closer to him, the magnetic attraction between us too strong to pull away; I don’t want to.
“Something,” he replies with a wondrous, almost humorous tone.
“Something,” I repeat, searching his eyes for any hint of doubt. However, it’s not there.
The mutual attraction between us is real. I feel it. He does too.
I look over his shoulder at the wooden table set and woven hamper that looks like it’s spilling over with edible goodies on top of the table in the middle of the rink.
He clears his throat as if he’s trying to make his voice work. “This is a first for me.”
I feel a little giddy and know he’s telling the truth, but I can’t help but ask him anyway. “Yeah?”
He bobs his head. “I don’t date.”
“You said last night.” I rest my arms on top of his shoulders casually when he drops his hand from my face.
“Since being drafted to the NHL, I find it difficult to trust people.”
“Because you never know if their intentions are genuine or if they only want to be your friend or date you because of your celebrity status?” I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for someone as introverted as Ash appears to be. Privacy for him seems to be his one non-negotiable.
He scoffs. “I’ve never seen myself as a celebrity.”
“There are thousands of news articles about you on the internet. If you were to search my name, you’d only find my social media pages, and those are pretty dull.” I tell him the truth. “You’re a famous hockey player,” I state, then admit, “Super sexy, panty dropping handsome hockey player.” His cheeks fill with color. “Completely untouchable. You’re an enigma to women.” I wiggle my eyebrows. “Some of the forums I read mentioned a huge reward for the puck bunny that manages to bed you.” I chuckle because it’s just so gross.
“What?” He screws his face up. “That’s vile. Is that true?” Astonished, he shakes his head in disbelief.
“There are several bunny bounties out there on you. One to kiss you, one to go out on a date with you, and then there is one to bed you. Maybe I should sign up. I’m already winning.” Unable to keep a straight face, a burst of giggles leaves my chest. “And I do need that deposit for a new house.”
“You wouldn’t dare?” His eyes pop out of his head as he cups my face with both hands again and looks me dead in the eyes.
I move his hand over my heart and hold his palm tight to my chest.
Knowing how much he appreciates his anonymity, I make a vow to him. “I promise you can trust me with your privacy. But you have to promise me that in return, I can trust you with my heart.”
With confidence and calmness, his face full of strength, he replies, “I promise you that you can trust me with your heart, your soul, your body. Everything.”
Blissfully happy, a smile shapes my lips. “Everything,” I repeat.
“You can trust me, Lily. But you have to know that if we are doing this, me and you, we may not get the option to keep us a secret for very long.”
