“There you go,” he exclaimed. “You’re getting the hang of it.”
She couldn’t help smiling. Once she’d taken his advice and stopped treating the skates as shoes, her movements had become smoother. She felt giddy as they picked up speed, gliding along the ice.
The boards, the benches, the bleachers—it all whizzed by her, the cool air in the arena reddening her cheeks. Although there were goose bumps dotting her bare arms, she didn’t mind the cold temperature. The chill in the air soothed her, cleansing her mind.
She cast a sideways glance at Brody and saw he was enjoying this, too. God, he looked delicious in his tuxedo. The jacket stretched over his broad shoulders and powerful chest. When she noticed his bow tie sat a little crooked, she resisted the urge to reach out and straighten it. She didn’t want to move her arms and risk falling, so she tightened her fingers around his instead.
He looked down at their intertwined fingers, his mouth parting slightly, as if he wanted to speak but was being cautious. She knew exactly what was on his mind, because the same thing was running through hers. God help her, but she really liked this guy.
He was arrogant, yes. Pushy sometimes. But he also turned her on in the fiercest way, and every time he fixed those midnight blue eyes on her, every time he wrapped those big arms around her, she melted.
They slowed their pace, and she forced her thoughts away from the dangerous territory they’d crossed into and tried to come up with a neutral topic of conversation. One that didn’t make her think of Brody, naked and hard as he devoured her body with his tongue. She’d been second-guessing their fling ever since Friday night, and now she was second-guessing her second-guessing of the fling.
“When did you start playing?” she finally asked, deciding his career was as safe a subject as any.
“Pretty much the second I could walk, I was learning to skate. My dad used to take me to this outdoor rink near our house in Michigan.” He chuckled. “Well, it wasn’t much of a rink. Just a crappy pond that froze over every winter. My parents couldn’t afford the membership fee for a real rink, so I used to practice my slap shots on that pond while Dad sat on a folding chair in the snow and read car magazines.”
“Did you play on a school team?”
“What team wasn’t I on?” He dropped her hand and began skating lazy circles around her. “In high school I played hockey, rugby and baseball in the spring. Oh, and I was on the lacrosse team until the practices started to interfere with my hockey schedule.”
“Got it. So you were one of those guys. I bet you were voted Most Likely to Become a Pro Athlete in your high school yearbook.”
“Actually, I was.”
He told her a bit about his early years in the league, then made her laugh with some anecdotes about his parents and their overwhelming pride in him. At times, a twinge of bitterness seeped into his voice, giving her the feeling that his childhood was tougher than he let on, but she didn’t pry. She remembered him saying that money had been tight for his family, and it was obviously something he didn’t like talking about.
A few minutes later, a cramp seized her leg and she wobbled to a stop, leaning against the splintered sideboards as she rubbed the back of her thigh. On the west coast she jogged every morning before heading to the university, but she was obviously not in the great shape she’d believed herself to be in. Her legs were aching, and they’d only been skating for twenty minutes.
“Wanna take a break?” Brody offered.
“Please.”
They stepped off the ice and climbed up to the bleachers. Brody was an expert when it came to walking on skates. She wasn’t so fortunate. She almost pitched forward a half dozen times before she finally sank down on the bench and exhaled with relief.
“I think I pulled a muscle in my butt,” she grumbled.
“Want me to rub the kinks out?”
She sighed, wishing his voice didn’t contain that husky note of erotic promise. Damn it. She couldn’t fall into bed with him. After how their conversation had ended on Friday night, continuing the fling probably wasn’t a great idea.
As if sensing her concerns, Brody let out an unsteady breath. “I’m sorry about the other night. I came on a bit too strong, and I apologize.”
She didn’t reply, just offered a pointed nod.
“I know I’m rough around the edges. I’m demanding. I like getting my way and I’m definitely not the kind of man who’s content with playing second fiddle.” He held up his hand before she could cut in. “I shouldn’t have hassled you about, you know, Doug—” he said the name like it was contagious “—but damn it, Hayden, it drives me crazy knowing there’s someone else in your life. I’m not used to sharing.”
“You’re not sharing. Doug and I are on a break.”
“There’s a giant difference between a break and a breakup.” He hesitated, frowning. “Do you think you’ll go back to him?”
“I don’t know.”
Deep down, though, she knew the answer to that question. And it probably wasn’t one Doug was going to like. But she couldn’t talk about it, not now, and definitely not with Brody.
She could tell he wasn’t happy with her answer, but instead of challenging her the way he had two nights ago, he simply nodded. “Guess I’ll have to live with it, then. And I can live with it, especially if it means I get to spend more time with you.”
“But why? What do you see in me that makes you so sure we should pursue this?” She wasn’t prone to insecurities, but she couldn’t quite figure out why this sexy man wanted her and not some supermodel.
“What do I see in you?” He leaned closer. “You want a list? I can do that. I’ll skip how beautiful you are. That’s all just superficial.”
“I’m not above superficial.”
He chuckled. “So you’d like me to start with your green eyes that have been knocking me out since the second you strolled up to that pool table?”
She bit her lower lip. “Okay.”
Carefully, he took a lock of her hair between his fingers. “Or should I start with this silky brown hair that keeps making me want to reach out and touch it?” His attention dropped to her chest. “Or these tits I can’t get enough of?”
The fingers that had been toying with her hair moved to brush over her nipples, which were pushing against the thin fabric of her dress. Her pulse quickened, every inch of skin heating under his raw appraisal.
“Or maybe these lips that keep begging me to taste them?” He brushed a thumb over her bottom lip.
Her lips parted, eyelids growing heavy, and thankfully, she was sitting down because she didn’t think she could hold up the weight of her body in her weakened state. This man was one smooth talker.
“Any of those places are fine,” she breathed.
Strong hands cupped her face. “Then there’s the intelligence that practically radiates from you. Did I ever tell you smart women seriously turn me on?” His thumbs began caressing her cheeks, and he bent to whisper close to her ear. “You’re a walking contradiction, baby. Serious and proper one moment, wild and uninhibited the next. And the more I get to know you, the more I like what I find.”
