“I would’ve made the speech regardless,” I tell him. “Because even if you weren’t in the picture, I still wouldn’t be interested in dating anyone.” I lick my lips and meet his gaze again. “But, yes. Now everyone knows my expectations, and there shouldn’t be any issues.”
The same heat flares in his dark irises as he stares down at me. “I think it was a wise decision.”
“One of few,” I quip dryly.
“I don’t know about that.”
I do, but I don’t argue with him. Instead, I say, “I should probably go.”
I take a step toward my beat-up car, but he grabs my wrist and holds me in place. Rocking back on my heels, I wait as his astute gaze flutters over the nearly empty parking lot. When he’s satisfied we’re relatively alone, he tugs me closer, invading my personal space and letting his chest brush against mine. The innocent friction makes my stomach clench with anticipation, reminding me of last night. Images of his sweaty body hovering over mine as he thrust into me over and over again make my thighs press together, but I don’t move a muscle. I simply wait. For what, I’m not sure, but I do. I stand there, replaying every moment, every kiss, every bite, every touch, until I realize I’m barely breathing. Forcing the air from my lungs, I hold his expectant gaze.
He leans down and whispers, “Meet me at The Grand Hotel on Baker Street in fifteen minutes.”
“Who said I’m available?” I ask, my voice breathless.
Amusement sparks in his eyes. “Are you available for a few orgasms this evening, Ms. Rutherford?”
My core clenches, and a laugh bubbles out of me. “I mean, when you put it that way...”
His hand slips beneath the strap of my backpack hanging at my side and grips my waist. The possessive touch nearly makes me melt on the spot as he tugs me against him fully, plastering our fronts together. His hard length swells, pressing against my belly, and he growls, “Good girl.”
28
HENRY
It’s been three weeks. Three weeks of solid fucking and no strings attached. For her, anyway. Mia has only invited me to her place once or twice. Still, between the locker room after hours, her car, and the Baker Street hotel room I booked for the next month, we’ve found plenty of time to hook up and scratch each other’s itches.
Well, our physical ones. Emotionally? She’s keeping her distance. I don’t dare push her. If I do, she’ll run.
I’ve watched her lately. Even more so than before. The way she keeps people at a distance. The way she deflects any personal questions, choosing to reply with a question of her own instead. She’s a puzzle. One I want to piece together.
But not yet.
Because in her eyes, we’re only fucking.
She doesn’t want it to change.
But I’m patient enough to take things slowly.
I remind myself of this as I follow Mia and the rest of the team outside, keeping my distance. I don’t want to look too eager. Too possessive. Too interested. But seeing her surrounded by hockey players who would love to see her naked tests my patience despite her speech at practice a few weeks ago. I see the way they look at her. The way they want her. The way they are pulled to her.
The Wisconsin air is cooler than in Lockwood Heights. Mia rubs her hands up and down her jacket-covered arms. She’s laughing at something Theo said. Beck steps around me and catches up to them in the parking lot.
The Lions just finished playing the Brawlers, and the team is buzzing from the victory.
“You guys go ahead,” Mia replies to whatever Theo says. “I think I’m gonna head back to the hotel so I can get some editing done.”
“You sure?” Beck prods.
“Yup. I’m sure. Thanks, though.”
“Colt and I will walk you back,” Theo offers.
“You guys, I’m fine.” Mia shoves at his shoulder playfully. “It’s like a five-minute walk.”
“Ash and Blake would kill us if we let you walk alone,” Colt reminds her.
“Then it’ll be our little secret,” she quips, breaking apart from the group and wiggling her fingers back and forth. “See ya.”
Her pace is quick, creating a solid twenty yards between her and the rest of the group as Colt and Theo exchange a look, debating whether or not they should follow.
“I’ll walk her back,” I announce.
They look over their shoulders as if only now realizing my presence. “We’ll take her––”
“She’ll be safe with me,” I interrupt, annoyed they even have to question it.
After exchanging another look, they both nod and tuck their hands in their front pockets, heading to the bar across the street while I pursue Mia. She has already doubled the distance between us, and I pick up my pace, watching her hips sway as she heads down the street.
The hotel is only a couple of blocks from the arena. Despite being in the middle of the city, it’s quiet outside. Mia lifts her head, looking up at the stars. I’m too far to see if she’s smiling, but I bet a thousand dollars she is. Her shoulders relax more and more with every step, the comfortable quiet helping her walls lower as she settles into herself. The real her. The one she keeps hidden from the rest of the world. Less than a block ahead of her sits a homeless man with a large, scruffy dog resting on the edge of the sidewalk. I lengthen my stride when I notice them, and Mia stops in front of them a few seconds later. She says something, though I’m too far away to hear what, and digs into her purse, retrieving her wallet.
Does the girl have a death wish?
I rush to catch up as she hands him a stack of cash, squats, and pets the ball of fur.
“Aren’t you the cutest thing ever?” she gushes.
“Mia,” I bark.
Her eyes find mine, and she frowns but doesn’t stop scratching behind the flea bag’s ear. “What are you doing here?”
My nostrils flair, and I glance at the man hunched near the brick building to our right. “Helping you back to the hotel.”
“You’re not celebrating the win with the team?”
“Figured I would have an early night.” I shift on my feet. “We should probably get going.”
“I’m fine, Professor. Just saying hello to my new friend here.”
“The man or the beast?” I ask.
She smiles at the homeless man and looks back at me. “Both.” After another quick scratch behind the dog’s ears, she stands and brushes her hands against her dark jeans. “See ya later. I hope you can find yourself a hot meal.”
“Thank you, miss. Thank you so much,” the stranger returns. He pushes his stringy white hair aside and gives Mia a toothless grin.
Mia returns it with a smile of her own, turns to me, folds her arms, and waits for me to catch up the rest of the way.
When I do, we walk side by side toward the hotel, and I ask, “How much did you give him?”
She glances behind her, then tilts her head. “Does it matter?”
Reining in my annoyance, I grunt. “You should wash your hands. You don’t know where the dog has been.”
“I’ll wash them when I get home, Professor,” she quips. “Don’t get your panties in a twist.”