Chapter 9
Exploring the markets in Hong Kong. They have everything and anything you could imagine, including a few friends I met in Iceland. The nightlife is crazy here, so bring a friend and dance until you can’t feel your feet.
~ Adventurous Amanda, October 2012
“Ready, Cheese?” she asked, unable to stop her smirk. Of course they weren’t climbing the water tower. But he didn’t need to know that just yet. Let him panic about it for a while. Sure, it wasn’t nice of her, but neither was him not showing up last week. Not that she was spiteful. But having a little fun with him always made her smile.
She couldn’t believe he’d actually apologized. Men sucked at admitting they’d done something wrong. At least, in her experience.
He bristled at the nickname. “Do you have to call me that?”
“Nope. But watching your cheek tick when I do gives me immense pleasure.”
His cheeks pinked, and hers heated again. Let him see her blush. She didn’t care. She’d never hidden her attraction to anyone before, Ben included. And after his little slip about stripping him in private, she knew it was only a matter of time before they finally did what they clearly both wanted.
“No one calls me that. It’s Ben or Cheesy,” he said.
“Cheesy is so not an accurate nickname for you. I’ve yet to hear you actually crack a joke.” Although, he’d teased the other guys in the band that night. Where was that guy? The relaxed guy she’d had a great time with, not this stiff representation in front of her.
“It’s because of my last name. Hockey players always have nicknames.”
She laughed. “Yes, I’m aware.”
“And I can crack a joke,” he said, his arms crossed over his impressive chest.
Ignore the forearms. Ignore the forearms.
God, he had beautiful arms. Arms didn’t get enough credit. It was always the eyes and the abs and the ass, but Ben’s arms—she’d had dreams about being wrapped up in them. Being picked up and pressed against his chest, those gorgeous arms under her ass.
“It’s okay. Not everyone is funny,” she said, trying to sound consoling as she placed her hand on the object of her infatuation. His muscles jumped under her touch, and she resisted the urge to pull his arms around her and just stand in the parking lot all morning.
He grumbled.
“What was that?” she asked.
He took in a deep breath. She would not focus on his chest moving, stretching his shirt.
No, she wouldn’t.
“Nothing. Are we walking or not?” he asked.
“That’s what we’re here for. Come on, Cheese. Let’s go,” she said, holding back her smile, and tugging him toward the path.
“You drive me crazy,” he muttered behind her.
“The feeling’s mutual,” she said softly. “Now stop staring at my ass and let’s go,” she said.
“I wasn’t staring,” he replied, but there was a catch in his voice and she turned around, spotting his pink cheeks.
Damn. He was adorable when he blushed. Butterflies jolted to warp speed in her belly. She couldn’t remember the last time—if ever—that she’d wanted someone this much. And not just to warm her sheets.
“Why’d you pick this place?” he asked as they wandered up the path.
“Pretty easy hike, under three-mile loop, and not crowded. Thought it would be a good addition to the article. Plus, from the water tower, you have a full view of the city. I wanted to find a place that tourists and locals could easily enjoy. That’s been the whole point of the series,” she said. She stopped to snap a few pictures on her phone to include in the article.
“We aren’t really climbing it, right?” he asked again.
She snorted. “You nervous? Afraid you can’t climb it?”
He puffed out his chest. Probably an unconscious move, but still—hello, hot flash.
“I can climb it.” He scoffed. “But, I doubt we are allowed to, and I have a flight to catch this afternoon, so jail time really isn’t on the schedule.”
She laughed. “The schedule? You sound like Penny. Tell me, Cheese, do you map out your entire day when you wake up in the morning?”
“Maybe?” He shrugged. “There’s nothing wrong with pre-planning your day. I have routines I have to follow on game days, so knowing what I’m doing each day is important. I’m sure you haven’t planned a day in your life,” he shot back.
“So judgy. And I have a loose idea each morning, but I’m open to change.” She poked him in the chest. “Are you?”
Any excuse to touch him. It was getting ridiculous.
And there was no give. Of course, there wasn’t. Not that she’d seen him without a shirt on. Well, at least in person. She might’ve Googled Ben Chester shirtless. It’d been a goldmine. So many mouth-watering images.
She would not fan her face in front of him. Nope.
She’d like to say she wasn’t proud of herself, but that would be a lie. It’s not like she’d made him her screensaver or anything. Now, that would be creepy. Not to mention that Chris Hemsworth already held that honor and she wasn’t ready to switch out Thor. Although, she bet Ben might give Thor a run for his money in the abs and arm department.
Especially with the full sleeve Ben was sporting. She definitely wanted to see that in person. Stupid cold and windy San Francisco was not helping her out on that front.
“Yes,” he said, or growled. Yes, growled was a better description.
“Yes what?” She’d already forgotten what she’d asked him.
“Yes, I’m open to change. Take today for example, I should be home, making sure my bag is packed and ready. Doing a few final routines I like to do before an away game. But, I’m here, climbing a hill with you, in the hopes that if you try to climb that water tower, I can stop you before you get arrested.”
She couldn’t stop her laugh as they skirted around a few slower walkers. She spun to face him, walking backwards along the path. “You’re no fun, Cheese.”
She loved it when he bristled. That growl made her entire body shiver, and it had nothing to do with the wind.
“That’s what they tell me.”
“We should prove them wrong,” she said, spinning back around and picking up her pace. The glint in his eyes at her comment was etched in her brain. Damn. She was going to kiss him before the morning was over, and he better not run again.
“Ready?” she asked twenty minutes later when they reached the water tower.
He tilted his head back, looking at the top of the large, washed out blue structure. There were benches near the bottom, and the views were amazing. The entire city was below them, and yet they were surrounded by trees and fields. It was a strange combination, and a welcome change from the pace of the city.
“Yep.”
“What?” she asked, unable to read his expression because he was still looking up at the tower.
He looked down, scanning the park, but still not meeting her eyes. “No one is around. Let’s climb it,” he said, grabbing her hand and walking toward the structure.
“Umm,” she started.
“Come on. Where’s your sense of adventure?” he asked.
She yanked her hand back. “Are you crazy? We can’t climb up there.”
He turned to look at her, his laugh cutting through the quiet around them. “Your face,” he said, shaking his head. “I know we can’t climb up there. And you said I couldn’t joke.” He nudged his elbow against her arm, his laugh warming all parts of her body.
“Not funny,” she grumbled, but she couldn’t fight her smile. “You should laugh more,” she said softly. She intended to keep that thought on the inside, but it bubbled out of her.
“You make me want to laugh,” he said, tugging her close, her breath catching in her throat.
“You planning on kissing and running again, Cheese?”
He stiffened. Dammit. Did she really need to keep goading him? Especially if he was going to kiss her.
“Yes to the first part, no to the second. I’m done running,” he said, his mouth a whisper away from hers.
“Good, because I’m done chasing you,” she said.
“I hope not.” His lips brushed against hers, their sighs intermingling, and then he sealed his mouth to hers.
She moaned, shifting her head to fit perfectly against him. His arms tightened around her and her hands came up between them, holding onto his jacket. He was so freaking tall that she stood on her tiptoes to get closer, wanting to burrow into his chest as he kissed her like he had two months ago against her door. Every nerve in her body strung tight at attention when he groaned against her, shifting his hips against her belly, his need blatant.
What she wouldn’t give to be home right now with him, or at least in a dark alcove. Somewhere.
His tongue traced the seam of her lips, and she granted him entry, her tongue darting out to tangle with his. His hands skated down her back, pulling her tight against him, lifting her off of the ground, and she held on tight.
She had a vague notion that this was not the place to climb up his body and wrap her legs around his waist. But fuck, she wanted to do just that.
The kiss consumed her, and she had no choice but to be swallowed whole as his tongue swept across her lips, before diving back in for more. She’d never been more thoroughly kissed in her life.
He deepened the kiss, and she let go of his jacket, her hands moving up, tracing his strong jaw, the stubble scraping across her palms, before she sank her hands into his hair. The soft strands slipping through her fingers before she gripped and held on for dear life.
“Get a room,” a voice called out. Followed by, “there are children here.” There might’ve even been a whistle.
Ben broke the kiss. “Shit,” he said, his voice rough with need.
He dropped his forehead to hers, taking in a shuddering breath that she matched.
She let out a soft laugh. “Umm, so that happened.”
His chuckle was breathy. “Yes, it did.” He slowly lowered her so her feet met the ground, but didn’t release his hold. His hard body still pressed to hers.
She resisted the urge to rub against him—barely.
“I should get going,” he said.
She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t pull this shit with me again, Cheese.”
“After that you’re still calling me Cheese?”
“Yes, because you’re about to run and I’m tired of that,” she fired back.
“I’m not running,” he said, softly, tugging her tight again when she tried to pull away.
“Then what the hell is this?” she asked, waving her hands.
“I have a flight to catch. Believe me, I want nothing more than to take you home with me and pull every piece of clothing from your body and give in to what I’ve wanted since I first kissed you two months ago—hell, since I first saw you sitting next to Penny at a game.”
Words failed her, but she swore she just sighed.
“You promise you’re not running?”
He ran his thumb across her palm. “Promise. And if we walk fast, maybe we can make out in my car for a few minutes before I have to go.”
“Promises, promises,” she teased.
“I’m serious, Amanda, as soon as I get back from this road trip, we are picking up where we left off,” he said.
“Promises, promises,” she whispered as they headed back down to their cars.
He better follow through. Stupid away games. She was tiny. Could she fit in his suitcase?
Ben waved hello to Oscar and grabbed a bottle of water before heading to the stage. He needed to play tonight. Last night’s loss had been rough. Against a team they should’ve beaten. But no, they’d walked away with no points. Colorado was at the bottom of the league, the goddamn bottom, but every team won sometimes, and last night Colorado had had the Strikers’ number—repeatedly. They’d been shut out. Four to zero.
It’d fucking sucked. They were still holding steady in the third playoff spot for the division, but they were on the bubble, and a few losses could send them to the wild card spot, or out of it entirely. Everyone was just too close. And he was frustrated as hell. Baz had blocked a shot with his ankle last night and had hobbled out of the game at the start of the third period. But nothing was broken, and he should be back for tomorrow’s game.
Needless to say, the flight home from their two-game road trip hadn’t been pleasant. At least they’d won the first game of the trip against Vancouver Sunday night. But, two out of four points wasn’t enough this late in the season. And they’d been sloppy last night. That was unacceptable.
Of course that wasn’t all he was frustrated about. Amanda. Bailing on her again Saturday at the park. Not that he’d run off in a panic, he’d had a flight to catch. But they’d been having a good time. Their conversation was surprisingly easy when he wasn’t looking for an ulterior motive. And teasing her—she made him want to have fun, to tease her just as much as she tormented him.
They’d ended up making out in his car for a blissful fifteen minutes before he’d finally ended it and reluctantly headed to the airport. She’d offered to be a stowaway. He’d almost agreed.
During the road trip, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Kissing her, her body pressed against his. Her small curves molding to him as her hands trailed up his chest. He’d reached for his phone more times than he could count, even typed up a few texts, but he’d never hit send. What would he have said? It probably would’ve been awkward. In person awkwardness was better. At least he could see her expression.
He bit back a groan. Dammit. He wanted to see her again. Would she show up here tonight? He glanced out at the small audience, her mischievous smile nowhere to be found.
Not that she knew he was playing here tonight. His flight had gotten in a few hours ago and he’d planned to stay home, but he’d been restless. That loss pissed him off, and he’d had no desire to sit at home and stew, so here he was. The guitar strap settled in place like it was forever attached to his body. Yes, he felt at home on the ice, but here, with the weight of his guitar against his body, he was calm.
His version of meditation.
This was his place, but he wanted her here. He never wanted anyone here. But she was different. He couldn’t explain how she’d snuck in under his defenses. How he didn’t want to avoid her. How he wanted to see where things could go.
Hell. He was getting ahead of himself. She probably just wanted some easy fun. Probably enjoyed the chase more than the catch.
He shook his head. As much as he tried to convince himself that she wanted his celebrity, his secrets, deep down he didn’t believe that. And he wanted to give her everything she asked for.
Hopefully it wouldn’t bite him in the ass.
“Hey mopey, we playing?” Carl asked, invading Ben’s thoughts that were going nowhere.
Ben looked up. “I’m not mopey,” he muttered, focusing on tuning his guitar. The A string sounded slightly flat, so he tightened the peg.
“You can’t get mopey about your loss last night,” Walt said, then let out a low whistle. “Although it was pretty bad.”
“Thanks for the reminder,” he mumbled to the drummer.
“You’ll get ’em next time, kid,” Walt said. “But I’m betting that’s not why he’s moody.”
“Really? What do you think it is?” Carl asked.
“I bet it’s a girl,” Joe, the bass player, chimed in.
“Yeah, I bet it’s a girl,” Carl said.
“Gossipy hens,” he muttered, focusing on his guitar. There’s no way they knew. He’d played a few times with them since Amanda had come into the club a few weeks ago. There’s no—
“Bet it’s that brunette,” Walt said.
—way. Ah hell.
“The petite one,” Carl said.
“Yeah. Manda, right? Oscar mentioned that she’s Tommy’s granddaughter. What are the odds?” Joe asked, shaking his head, while Ben just looked at all of them, trying to stop gaping.
“Look at his face. It’s totally her,” Walt said, pointing a drumstick at Ben.
The guys all chuckled.
Son of a bitch. But, was it really that bad that they’d figured him out?
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” he said. “So are we playing, or not?”
“We’ll get there,” Carl said. “Now, fess up, Benny boy. Manda have you mopey?”
“No,” he muttered.
Walt chuckled. “Yep, he’s got it bad.”
“And there’s nothing wrong with that,” Carl said, patting him on the back.
“Knock it off. Our audience awaits,” Ben said, gesturing to the small crowd of maybe ten people, none of whom were paying any attention to the band.
Thanks for the assist, crowd.
“No they don’t. I want to hear about you and little Manda,” Walt said. Jesus, the guy was a shit stirrer.
“There’s nothing to tell. She’s a friend of a friend. Didn’t even know she was related to Tommy.” He still couldn’t believe she was the granddaughter Tommy had mentioned. He missed the old man. He’d been one hell of a guitar player, but had been pretty sick toward the end and hadn’t stopped by the bar as much.
“Look at that smile. Yep. Got it bad,” Carl said.
“I’m thinking about playing with Tommy. Wish I’d been around when he was younger and playing here more often.”
“Well, seeing as how you weren’t alive, that probably would’ve been difficult,” Joe said. “And, don’t for one second think we believe you’re smiling about Tommy.”
“Fine. I like her. Probably more than I should. You happy now?”
“Yep,” Walt said with a smirk. “I’m always right.”
“Well shit, that’s going straight to his head,” Carl said, shaking his own. “But I’m happy for you, kid. Maybe fate brought you both here.”
Joe groaned. “Here he goes. Fate, man. Always talking about fate.”
“Don’t knock it. I met my Aggie here one night. Wasn’t even supposed to play that night, but the old band needed someone. And there she was, in the crowd, smiling up at me. I was done,” Carl said, his expression wistful.
“Now you’ve done it,” Walt said. “His head’s up in the clouds now.”
“Ah, fuck off, Walt. You’re just jealous.”
“Damn straight,” the drummer said.
“See. You never know when fate’s gonna step in and sweep you off your feet,” Carl said.
“Whoa. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. It’s been a few kisses, that’s it,” Ben said. For now, at least. He had plans for way more than kisses tomorrow night.
“Keep telling yourself that,” Carl said with a chuckle. “Pretty sure I said the same thing forty years ago.”
“Hell, I would’ve married Aggie just for her apple crisp,” Walt chimed in.
“Well, she’s all mine. Apple crisp and all.”
Ben wanted that one day. But fate wasn’t always sunshine and apple crisp. It could sweep you off your feet in ways you could have never imagined. And not for the better. Just ask his father.
But he couldn’t live his life in fear of what-ifs. Sometimes you just had to go with it.
He stared at his guitar. That thought was very unlike Ben. Where the hell had that come from?
He knew the answer to that without question.
And that didn’t freak him out like it should. Of course, he’d never tell her that.