“Hey,” I say, when the door opens to reveal Alara, her fragrance enveloping me suddenly and rendering my knees so weak I’m embarrassed. She smells intoxicatingly sweet – vanilla, maybe hints of coconut and lavender too.
The way she gives me a onceover feels deliberate. I want to smirk, annoy her with a smug remark, but all I can do is blush and give in to the power of my stupid, thundering heart.
She steps aside. “Come in. I’m just finishing getting ready.”
That’s when I notice that she’s already wearing her black ski pants and matching base layers, her hair unbound and cascading down her back.
I take my shoes off, not wanting to dirty her place with melted snow.
“Alara,” I grumble, tugging down the zipper of my coat. “It’s a fucking furnace in here.”
“Apologies for getting cold.” She walks away toward a small hallway. “Just make yourself comfortable. I’ll be a minute.”
To my right, there’s the kitchen with a central island surrounded by stools. Cookbooks are aligned on the counter by the window, transparent jars labeled with their contents next to them. I bite back a snicker when I spot the jar marked ‘pasta’ is filled with rice. To my left is the open living room with an L-shaped couch, and a coffee table on which there’s a candle, a mini plant, and her closed laptop. Beside the television there’s a large bookcase that catches my attention.
So, she’s a reader too? I like that.
There’s mostly romance with a hint of fantasy. Picking up one of the numerous novels she possesses, I inwardly smile at the sight of the colorful tabs peeking out.
I notice the staircase then, leading to a mezzanine where, behind the railing adorned by garlands and twinkling lights, is her bed.
This place is really cool and cozy. I wonder what it would feel like to hang out with her here late at night with a movie playing on the TV. Her head resting in my lap, my fingers sifting through her long hair. Our gazes catching, her lips compelling me to bend lower to taste them. The energy shifting into something hotter and intense and—
Wait. Stop. Why has my mind wandered off in this direction?
Nope, this can’t happen. I told myself, not even twenty-four hours ago, that I can’t act on my attraction to her. I have to focus on my recovery, on getting back on Coach’s good side and gaining his trust. Being distracted by Alara Bradford is a terrible idea.
But who am I if I don’t gravitate toward danger?
Focus.
Something rubs against my shin, causing me to jump and snapping me back to reality.
“Ah! What the fuck?”
When I glance down, a black cat is sitting at my feet, purring so loudly it nearly makes my bones vibrate. I frown down at the animal before putting the book back where it belongs.
“Is everything okay?” Alara comes into view, tying her hair in a ponytail. She’s shrugged a fleece jumper over her clothes.
“I didn’t know you lived with a demon.” I’m not a cat person. I’m not an animal person. The hamster Valentina used to have when she was a kid is where I draw the line.
Alara’s laugh is addictive – the sweetest melody I’ve had the privilege of hearing. I want to hear it all day, every day. It’s annoying in the way that it makes me want to laugh too, but sweet and endearing all the same.
“Tabby is not a demon,” she murmurs, picking up the cat and twisting it on its back to rub its belly. “She’s a sweet baby just asking for love and affection.”
“Aren’t we all?”
She presses a kiss to Tabby’s head. “Do you want to hold her?”
Do Ilooklike I want to? “My hands are full.”
“Holding your enormous ego?”
“How did you know?” I say dryly.
As soon as Tabby is back on the carpet, she struts toward two bowls set on a mat below the kitchen counter and meows before chomping on some food.
I suddenly remember what I’m holding, and hand Alara a paper cup with a logo she knows all too well.
