Tamara

When I spotted Ryan as he shoved open the rink door, I was doubly glad that I’d been able to get out of there as quickly as I had. Coach had slowed me down a little bit to give me directions and keys to the apartment the team had lined up for me. Between having a place to stay and a rental car to get around without having to depend on public transportation or an Uber, it was almost like being home. Except for the hot-as-heck hockey player, who’d been haunting my dreams for months, staring at the back of my car as I’d pulled out of the lot.

After the way I’d shot him down on the ice, I hadn’t expected him to try anything again. I was familiar with guys like that—athletes who thought they were God’s gift to every woman they met. They weren’t used to women saying no, especially one who’d foolishly said yes before, so it sometimes came as a shock. But their interest quickly waned since there always seemed to be a never-ending supply of other women to take your place if you weren’t interested. I’d spent most of my life in rinks surrounded by them; which was probably why my mother continually complained to me about my lack of a dating life. The guys I met weren’t boyfriend material so I usually wasn’t interested enough to give them a chance...except for that one time with Ryan. But then I’d freaked out when I woke up because one-night stands weren’t my style, and I wasn’t sure how to act around him after the night we’d spent together. And that was before I’d known he was a professional hockey player.

My brain knew that Ryan was no different than other guys who played off the ice just as hard as on it, but damn if my body would listen. When my gaze locked with his in my rearview mirror, my stomach clenched in a way that reminded me of how I felt before a race. I was filled with those excited nerves at the anticipation of what was about to happen; which was ridiculous in this situation since nothing beyond what’d already happened was going to develop between Ryan Forrester and me except for a professional relationship on the ice.

It wasn’t like I was even going to see him outside of the power skating sessions I ran at the rink. Something that was probably for the best because it meant I had a good eighteen hours before I had to face him again—plenty of time to get over my reaction to seeing him again. Or at least that was the pep talk I gave myself as I stopped at the nearest grocery store and grabbed enough stuff to tide me over for a couple of days until I had the energy to do a full shop.

By the time I made it to the apartment complex, I was almost ready to drop from exhaustion. Jet lagged wasn’t strong enough to describe how I felt. Between the time difference, arriving a day late and having to head straight to the rink, running the power skating session with the guys, and the shock of seeing Ryan again; my body was running on empty. I needed a hot meal followed by about a dozen hours of sleep, but I was going to have to settle for a huge sandwich and a solid eight in bed.

“Maybe I’ll have time to stop somewhere for breakfast on the way to the arena in the morning,” I mumbled to myself as I hefted the two grocery bags, my suitcase, and carry-on out of the trunk of the rental car. I tried to knock it back down with the arm holding the groceries, but the damn thing wouldn’t cooperate. “Shit.”

I bent down to set them on the ground, and when I popped back up a male hand was shutting the trunk for me. I wasn’t ashamed to admit that I was startled enough to yelp before I dug in my purse for the mace my mom insisted I carry whenever I was traveling. It was gripped in my hand, still in my purse, when I recognized the voice of the man telling me to calm down. My head jerked up and met familiar hazel eyes.

Ryan held his hands up in a non-threatening gesture. “Fuck, I’m sorry for scaring you. I was getting ready to head over to the building”—he dropped his hands and jerked his chin in the direction of a silver Porsche SUV parked a few spots down from my rental—“and saw you struggling, so I figured I’d come over and help.”

“What’re you doing here?” I asked him suspiciously. “Did you ask your coach how to find me? Because if so, you shouldn’t have bothered. We don’t have anything we need to talk about off the ice, and I’ll see you at the arena tomorrow.”

“I’m guessing Coach didn’t tell you?” he chuckled, the raspy sound sending shivers through me even though it couldn’t mean good things for me.

“Tell me what?”

“A bunch of the guys live here.”

“Including you?”

“Yup.” His lips tilted up in a small grin.

I wanted to bang my head against the car for jumping to the wrong conclusion, and then sharing it with him. “Sorry about that. I shouldn’t have assumed that you followed me here.” It went without saying that a guy like him didn’t need to chase down a woman, especially ones he’d already slept with before.

“No worries. It’s not like I can be angry with you after how I managed to keep shoving my foot in my mouth in front of you earlier today. Right?” His hazel eyes twinkled with humor as his grin turned into a full-fledged smile. “And I’d be lying if I said I’m not thrilled as fuck that you’re going to be my neighbor since it’ll make it harder for you to stick to that whole spiel about how we’ll only see each other on the ice.”

My cheeks filled with heat, and I shifted my carry-on strap on my shoulder because I wasn’t sure how to respond. Things were a lot more complicated now that I knew he wasn’t just a player I’d see on the ice during power skating sessions. He was an insanely hot guy I was still attracted to who I was bound to bump into off of it as well. One who was apparently going to use every opportunity he got—both on and off the ice—to flirt with me.

“Here, let me help you with that,” he offered, grabbing the handle of my rolling suitcase and lifting the grocery bags off the ground.

“Thank you.” I had years of my mom jamming manners into my head to blame for instinctively offering him my gratitude when a big part of me wanted to yank my stuff out of his grasp and run for my apartment. Wherever it was. Jackass Ryan was easy—okay, fairly possible—to resist. Polite Ryan? Not so much.

“Which unit are you in?” he asked

I told him the number his Coach had given me and walked next to him as he led me to the building nearest us.

“If they got you an apartment, does that mean that your contract with the team is long-term? Coach didn’t mention how long you’d be with us when he told everyone about you.”

“Probably because you guys were too busy whining about the idea of having a girl teach you how to skate,” I joked...sort of.

“I’m sure you’re right,” he agreed as he unlocked the door to the building and held it open for me. “And I’m sorry for my part in it.”

“Thanks.” And there went my mom’s deeply ingrained manners again. “And yeah, I’ll be here until the end of the season, however far into the playoffs you make it.”

He nodded as he pressed the button to call the elevator. “It’s a good thing they set you up with an apartment here. It’s a popular location for those of us without families to worry about because it’s an easy drive to the arena and there’s a great workout room a lot of us use during the off-season. Plus, most of the units have a Jacuzzi tub in addition to a walk-in shower.”

We stepped onto the elevator, and I let out a little involuntary moan at the thought of a hot bath in a Jacuzzi tub with the jets going at full power. The doors closed behind us, shutting me in with Ryan. His heated gaze dropped to my lips, and the elevator suddenly seemed much smaller than it really was.