She had the sexy librarian look on lock, and God help me, even feeling used, I was very interested in signing up for a library card so I would have an excuse to return day after day to check out a new book when my real motive was just to see her.
I wanted to hate her for what she’d done, but as she begged and pleaded with me not to say a word to anyone, any malice I felt toward her melted away. She sounded desperate, and it tugged at my heart. I was trying to process the sudden shift of emotions from lust to anger to compassion when her lip trembled. Before I could blink, she ran.
Stunned, it took me longer than normal for my reflexes to kick in and give chase. Thankfully, her red hair acted like a beacon, and I caught a flash of it as she turned the corner at the end of the hallway. By the time I madeit there—cursing my bum knee for slowing me down—the door to the women’s restroom slammed shut, accompanied by the telltale sound of the lock sliding into place.
Even with my heart pounding against my ribcage and my pulse filling my ears, I could hear her sobs through the door. Exhaling, I dropped my forehead against the polished wood, kicking myself for being a dick to her.
I’d made assumptions, and now she probably hated me. It would serve me right if she rode me hard with tough questions the rest of the season for how I’d acted.
Being stressed about my new job wasn’t an excuse for lashing out at her. And I would wait until she opened the door—however long that took—so that I could apologize.
We’d gotten off to an explosive start that was quickly doused by a bucket of ice water. I was hoping we could find a happy medium, seeing as how we would be working together for months on end. That was, if she didn’t quit because of my dumb ass.
I would feel terrible if she did. I knew how hard it was for women to gain a foothold in sports reporting, and if she gave up this opportunity, it could be a while before she scored another.
When I heard the lock disengaging, I stepped back, prepared to make amends. What I wasn’t prepared for was for Bristol to barrel right into me at full force, knocking the breath from my lungs with an “oof.”
Instinct had me wrapping my arms around her while I struggled to recover. But when she pushed against my chest, I released her, stepping away.
Even with the space between us, her eyes were still trained on the floor. Drawn to her in a way I couldn’t understand, I tilted her chin up with my fingers beneath it. My heart clenched at the view of her red-rimmed eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I was out of line.”
Those beautiful blue eyes grew glassy, and she looked away. “I know it looks bad.”
It did. She was right about that, but I wouldn’t be the man my father raised me to be if I didn’t give her the benefit of the doubt. Not every woman was a bloodsucking leech who only wanted to sink their claws into a hockey player for their money or a step up in the world. Jenner had found and lost a good woman. Braxton also had one.
What if . . .
No. I shook my head. I couldn’t go there.
What if there was a reason you two connected one day before you began working together?
Fuck. This wasnotthe time to be having these thoughts. I had a job I needed to focus on. And getting tangled up with this woman in particular was ahugeconflict of interest.
But God help me, it didn’t stop me from wanting her.
I sighed, explaining, “Last night—” Her eyes locked with mine, eager to hear what I had to say. “It was the first time since the injury that a woman didn’t look at me like I was damaged goods.”
Instead of pity, empathy shone back at me in her gaze, and she ducked her head. “Right. I heard about that.”
A corner of my lips turned up as I teased, “See? Already proving me wrong. Youhavedone your research.”
Her cheeks pinkened, but she cocked her hip, giving me a hint of sass. “I think you’ll find my knowledge of the sport up to par, Coach Sterling.”
“And for the record,” I offered. “You look different from last night, too, but I’d know you anywhere.”
Bristol sighed, her pupils dilating briefly before the shutters slammed down, and she looked away.
What the hell was that about?
“DidI cross the line of ourprofessionalrelationship, Miss Cooper?”
She shot me a glare as she stepped past me to lean against the opposite wall. Looking skyward, she breathed out, “I just wanted a night of strings-free sex, but apparently, that was too much to ask of the universe. Can’t escape the past no matter how hard I try.”
The past? Did this have anything to do with the cheater?
Before I could ask, she looked directly at me, stating, “You’re not the first hockey player I’ve been with.”
