Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
It was so much easier to push him away when I thought he was just another arrogant hockey player used to getting what he wanted. But now, after seeing how he cares for his family, how he’s stepped up since his dad died, I’m unable to fall back on that excuse.
Instead of letting me off the hook, his fingers slip beneath my chin, gently tilting my face toward him. His touch is surprisingly gentle as his eyes search mine with a kind of patience that makes my pulse quicken.
“Just what?” His voice is soft, coaxing. “Talk to me.”
I sigh, my breath shaky.
As much as I want to look away, I can’t. His gaze holds mine captive, and for the first time in a while, I feel exposed—like he’s peeling back the protective layers I’ve worked so hard to build.
“There are things that happened last year,” I say carefully, “and I’m having a hard time moving past them. Whatever you’re looking for, I’m not it.”
He studies me quietly. It’s like he’s trying to piece together the parts of me I’ve kept hidden. What I don’t like is how close he’s getting and just how easily he’s able to break down my defenses.
Before I can retreat, he leans in slightly, his breath warm against my skin.
“Does this have anything to do with the person who messaged you earlier?”
My stomach drops at the mention of the text I received a handful of minutes ago. The way he picked up on that so easily, how he saw through my attempts to brush it off, unsettles me.
“Yeah,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.
The shift in Hayes is immediate. His relaxed demeanor tightens, concern flashing in his eyes. “Is it an ex?”
I hesitate.
There’s so much more to it than that, but I can’t bring myself to spill the details.
“Something like that,” I mutter.
He watches me carefully, and for a second, I think he might press for more. Instead, he inches closer until the warmth of his breath drifts across my lips.
“Okay, let me ask you this, do you feel anything for me?”
The question catches me by surprise.
Before I can react, he continues, “Because I feel something for you. And that’s not something I’ve experienced before, so I kind of want to figure out what this is.” His voice is steady, sincere, and somehow, that makes it difficult to deflect.
I swallow hard, my heart racing in my chest. “Nothing is that easy.”
A slow, lazy smile tugs at his lips. “It can be,” he says, his fingers still gently holding my chin. “I promise.”
Everything inside me screams to shut this down, to retreat before I get in too deep. Instead of saying no the way I should, I find myself blurting out the one word that shocks us both. “Okay.”
His brows shoot up in disbelief, his eyes narrowing playfully. “Really? You’re not messing with me?”
I can’t help the laugh that bubbles up in my chest as the crackling tension between us dissolves. “No, I’m not messing with you.”
He grins, and the warmth of his smile makes my insides flip. “Good.”
The moment stretches between us, a delicate balance of uncertainty and something else I haven’t let myself feel in a long time. Maybe that’s what terrifies me so much. For the first time since everything with Nathan exploded, I’m allowing myself to feel again.
As much as I want to believe Hayes, to let myself be swept up in whatever this is between us, I can’t shake the feeling that nothing is as simple as he makes it out to be.
And that’s the part that scares me most.
14
Ava
I stare at the ceiling, tracing the faint shadows that stretch across the room from the sliver of moonlight sneaking through my blinds. The clock on my nightstand ticks past midnight, and sleep feels as far away as it did an hour ago. Even though I’m physically exhausted—my body heavy and aching from practice, endless hockey drills, and wrangling kids at the clinic—my mind is wide awake, stuck on a constant loop.
I roll onto my side and try to shove thoughts of Hayes out of my head, but it’s useless. His face, his laugh, the way his gaze catches mine and holds, the nickname he’s given me, it all floods my brain, refusing to be silenced.
It’s infuriating.
And terrifying.
Hayes wasn’t supposed to be anything more than the manwhore I’d pegged him to be after our first run-in. And he certainly wasn’t supposed to get under my skin, making me second-guess everything I thought I knew about him and myself.
But here we are.
I roll onto my back again, staring blankly at the ceiling, letting the memories from this afternoon wash over me.
What did he say earlier?
That he wanted to get to know me better?
To figure out what this is between us?
It’s such a simple sentiment, and yet it’s weighed heavily on me ever since he said it. Because the thing is, I do feel something for him. It would be so much easier to ignore the attraction if he were just a cocky, one-dimensional player who said all the right things but meant none of them.