“What’s that?”
“Played hockey.”
“You’re kidding?”
She shakes her head. “Nope. When I figure skated, I hated the hockey players because they always felt like they deserved more ice time than us. Why do you think our practices always started at five a.m.?”
“See? And I was the hockey player more than willing to watch the ice skaters twirl around.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “Is that all you thought we did was twirl around?”
I skate over to my bag to grab some sticks and pucks. “Hell no, I give you skaters props. To spin and land like that is scary shit.”
“And to me, being plowed into by two hundred and ten pounds is scary shit.”
I laugh and toss a puck on the ice and bring over one stick. I set us up with the puck and wrap my arms around her while we both hold the stick.
“You smell good,” I murmur, fully aware I’m going half chub.
“Thank you,” she says in a soft voice.
I rock the stick back then bring it forward, shooting the puck into the net.
She couldn’t be more perfect for me if a mad scientist made her specifically for me. I feel my willpower waning and I’m not sure how this is going to pan out because I keep thinking, “Joran who?”
Chapter Sixteen
Saige
“Thanks for that. I didn’t realize how much I missed it,” I say to Aiden when we reach our hotel rooms. For tonight, he’ll be staying next door to me, but tomorrow after the game, he has to go share a room with Maksim.
“You said the smell of the ice made you feel nauseous.”
“For a long time, it did. My parents wanted to put me in more competitions because some coach I was working with told them there was hope for me. I saw my competition out there on the ice every Saturday. Pretty sure the coach just wanted my parents’ money.” I use my key card and enter my room. Surprisingly, Aiden follows me. “I humored them for a while, but the criticism was intense and I started to hate going to practice, so eventually I faked an injury. Never really skated again… until today.”
“You seemed to enjoy it. You’re graceful.”
I put my suitcase on the luggage holder and Aiden sits on the edge of the bed. “You’re a hockey player, of course I seem graceful.”
I laugh, but in truth, Aiden gave me something today he didn’t plan to. He reminded me that I used to love skating. It’s probably why I love watching him on the ice, although I act like I don’t.
I say, “You proved to be a great friend again today.”
“Perfect. That’s what I’m striving for, to get stuck in the friend zone.”
I ignore his comment because if he knew how much being in this hotel room with him unnerves me, he wouldn’t joke about it. I need to remain strong. Eventually he’ll waver and his attention will shift to someone else. I don’t want to think about how I’ll handle that when the time comes.
“How is Joran anyway?” he asks.
I freeze for a moment while unzipping my bag. “Good.”
I don’t want to lie, so I don’t say anything more. I’m guessing Joran hasn’t told Aiden about me ending things. It’s been an easy way for me to keep Aiden in the friend zone without much pushback from him.
He stands abruptly. “Want to do dinner tonight? Or we could just hang in the room and watch a movie?”
Should I do any of this with Aiden? Hell no.
Should I politely decline? Of course.
Will I? Not a chance.
I guess I’m a glutton for punishment.
“I’m cool with whatever.” I shrug.
“I’ll make reservations. You know how I hate being stuck in the hotel room. Nothing too fancy.” He heads toward the door.
“Sounds good.”
“See you in a little bit… friend.” He leaves and the door slams shut.
The walls are so thin, I hear him walk into his room beside mine. My body begs for me to quit this game. To go next door and tell him how much I yearn for him every night. But doing that would only double the heartbreak later. Seeing Jeremy proved that. If I couldn’t figure out a man was using me for six years, how can I trust my gut after less than a couple months with another man?
Technically, Aiden hasn’t made an advance on me. Flirtatious comments aren’t actions. He could be a massive flirt like that with everyone for all I know.
I finish unpacking, trying to keep my mind off Aiden—which is impossible when I pull out my dress for tomorrow. My Florida Fury fan wear seems to keep on growing. My phone dings with a text from Aiden that says he’ll pick me up at seven, dress casual.
Since I have a few hours, I set my computer on the desk and check on my clients’ social media, but something catches my eye. I glance down at the garbage can and find my self-help book in the trash.
What the hell?
I pick it up and place it back on the table. It must have fallen in.
One thing I can say about Aiden is that he’s always punctual. At seven on the dot, a knock sounds on my door and I leave the bathroom to let him in.
“Nice look,” he says, much more chipper than he was earlier.
“Sorry, one more eyelash to go.” I take the eyelash curler off the lashes on my right eye and move it to my left while I head back to the bathroom.
“No problem.” He must go sit in the room while I finish with my makeup.
When I come out a few minutes later, he’s thumbing through the self-help book.
“Did you by chance throw my book away earlier?”
“Yep,” he answers and tosses it in the trash again. “You don’t need that. You’re perfect the way you are.”
I pass him and grab the book out of the empty trash. “You can’t just throw away my book, Aiden.”
He shrugs. “Suit yourself then. You look great.”
I’m only wearing a pair of jeans, a tight V-neck long-sleeved shirt, and I’ll have a coat on until we get there. “You did say casual, right?”
He has on a pair of jeans and a V-neck sweater with nothing else, so I’m assuming I’m good.
“Yeah, you ready then?”
“I am.”
I grab my purse and we leave the room, walking toward the elevator. “Do you think someone might recognize you with no hat and no sunglasses?”
“Probably. I hope it’s not too annoying for you.”
“Oh, I don’t care. Don’t ever do anything on account of me.”
The elevator arrives and we step in. With only us, it feels intimate and somewhat like a date. When it dings on the bottom floor, Aiden takes my hand and leads me out of the elevator as though I’m his. I’m so busy inwardly sighing at how perfect it feels that I don’t bother to pull away. God, I’m playing with fire here. I know it, but I can’t seem to help myself.
A few people whisper and point, but we get through the lobby without anyone stopping us. There’s a car out front and the doorman nods when he sees Aiden. “Mr. Drake, your ride is here.”
We’ve always taken taxis, so I’m not sure what’s up with this blacked-out SUV with a private driver thing.