Busted.
His chest was even more impressive than his back. Without breaking eye contact, he placed a large hand on a set of rock-hard abs. His shoulder rolled as he rubbed back and forth until I couldn’t help but follow the movement. The flex and pull of muscles made me think of how he would move over someone in the bedroom. How those round shoulders would bunch and release while he pumped into…Stop.
But damn, his body was perfect.
And I felt like an ass objectifying him like that. Mentally shaking myself, I looked away from the mesmerizing movement and flushed as he winked. As though he knew exactly where my mind had been.
Without bothering to pull on a shirt, he dropped into the seat next to Oscar, stretching his arms over his head in a way I told myself wasn’t for my benefit.
Not at all.
“They’re not supposed to be filming this.” Dante pushed through the remaining players who hadn’t changed fast enough, intent on retaining some level of modesty for the players that they themselves may not have cared about. Then again, maybe they did, and Dante was the only voice they had to advocate for them. Following along more slowly, I weaved my way to where Dante was having a quiet word with the showrunner.
“I want to review the footage before it goes to edits.”
“You will,” Lily assured her before returning to her seat. Dante waved me into a seat across the way.
“Just because they’ve been good so far doesn’t mean we can trust them. I have to keep our team safe, and it’ll be your job to do it in the future. Once photos or footage hit the internet, it’s almost impossible to scrub it completely. Prevention is always better than correction.”
I nodded along, storing the advice for later as I glanced around the cabin. Flight crew bustled up and down the aisle as players strapped in to their seats, many of them beginning pre-game rituals ranging from meditation to pump up music, while others took the opportunity to nap. On the opposite side of the plane, halfway down in the aisle seat, Cian's head was tilted back, headphones stuck in his ears while his heavy-lidded eyes felt like they burned through me.
His attention was too much. I didn’t know why I’d landed on his radar after three years of quietly deciding to be unspoken enemies, but I didn’t trust it.
I didn’t trust him.
And I really wished he would put a shirt on.
Cian
I drummed on the boards,screaming encouragement as Oscar flew down the ice. Nashville was riding us hard, but no way were we giving up the W in this game. I missed playing on his line, but Miller and Lathan were easy to read, and we worked well together. The lamp lit up and our third line forwards sprinted for the bench while our first line spilled onto the ice.
“Great play, Caveman,” I shouted, holding my knuckles out for Oscar to knock. He grinned at the nickname and flopped onto the bench beside me, squirting his water bottle into his mouth without bothering to remove his helmet.
“Shit. How long do we have left on the clock?” he asked, breathing hard. We both grimaced as the Nashville goalie shut out Viggy’s slapshot, but Han was already circling the net for another attack.
“You ready?” Lathan thumped me on the shoulder. I nodded and slid my mouthguard in under my helmet. I was always ready to play. Energy thrummed through my body as play continued in front of us. The puck zipped back and forth between each of the team’s defensive zones, but Logan was on his game in goal and hadn’t let anything through this whole period. Finally, Coach blew the whistle, and I vaulted over the boards with Lathan and Miller close behind me. Nashville’s defensive line was edgy, clearly unhappy with the scoreboard and almost as soon as I hit the ice, I was driven into the boards.
Not happening.
Instead of engaging with the giant left defenseman, I ducked out from underneath him and sprinted over the ice while Murdock sent the biscuit down the line. Miller circled behind Nashville’s goal, positioning himself perfectly while Lathan kept their right D-man busy. Leaning into my skates, I angled my body for a shot I didn’t intend to take, waiting for the goalie to move before I passed to Miller who used the advantage to score a bar down. The lamp lit up just as the final siren sounded and the arena echoed with shouts and jeers from the crowd. I never got tired of the feeling of winning on the national stage. Camera crews lined the boards while the announcer confirmed the Aces had taken the win.
We skated for the gate, ignoring shouts from the gathered crowd. They could wait for the presser to get their sound bites. I just prayed Blair didn’t want me to sit in on it.
Speak of the devil.
Halfway down the tunnel, with the stadium lights shining off her wild curls, Blair’s smile was as wide as any of the team’s as she snapped candid shots of my teammates. She squealed a laugh as Han gave her a sweaty hug on the way past. Something uncomfortable slid through my gut as I watched the interaction. I’d never noticed her paying attention to him before, but maybe I’d missed something.
Instead of letting the feeling crawl through me, I shook it off, making a beeline for her to get some of that attention she seemed so ready to give.
As she laughed at something Oscar said to her on his way past, I snuck in close to get in her ear.
“Did you enjoy the game?”
She jumped, pressing a hand to her chest as she wheeled toward me. Her brown eyes seemed lighter than normal. A subtle amber color lighting up the center.
“You scared me. Yeah, you guys were great. Keep that up and we’ll take home the cup this—Mmph.” I slapped a hand over her mouth before she could jinx our whole season.
“Eew, sweaty hands,” she groused, wiping the back of her wrist across her lips. Come to think of it, they were quite full. Pink and plump and perfectly shaped for… What was she saying?
