"That good, huh?"
He takes another sip. "Better now."
My chest warms, but I maintain composure and ignore the way my body reacts to those two words. Unsure of what to say, I simply nod, and a silence falls between us.
I can't explain why I'm drawn to him. I've felt it since I first saw him on the big screen. There's no denying the specimen that is the man in front of me, especially when he's flying across ice and sinking pucks into the net. But he was always untouchable—figuratively and literally. At minimum, an ice rink sat between him and me in Levi's box in the stands. Not to mention, I'm at least five years his senior. But that's what fantasies are for.
Now, though, he's not a fantasy.
Well, he is, but… he's also here.
Taking a big gulp of wine, I buy myself a few seconds. I'm not one to lose my words, but it's been a night already, and I'm draining fast. Honestly, what I could really use is a good release—and if the man I've salivated over for the last few weeks wants to give it to me, who am I to stop him? I'm not going to throw myself at him like he's probably used to, though—I didn't spend the last thirty years letting my parents down to start kissing ass now.
But if he wants to shoot his shot… he will.
Tipping my chin back down, I almost hit his nose with the stem of my glass.Did he move closer while I was savoring the rush of wine to my head?His scent surrounds me, the perfect combination of spice and earth notes—Dior? Tom Ford?—something expensive. Maybe it's the time that's passed, or the fleeting buzz my first sip gives me, but I start to doubt that this is anything. Could he be acting cordial and just so happen to have ridiculously intense—and insanely sexy—eye contact?Or maybe these stockings are finally starting to cut off circulation to my brain.
"Well, I'm going to g—"
"Do you want to get out of here?" Drew cuts off my attempt to end… whatever the hell is happening here, and my mouth goes dry.
I have half a glass of wine left to buy time before I answer, and I use every last drop to do so. Throwing back what's left, I contemplate if this is really what I want. Is it possible that Drew's using me as one of his many hookups to right what's gone so wrong for him? Probably. Would I be using him for the same exact thing? One hundred percent, yes.
It's clear we have some sort of weird connection, but I'm not delusional. This is a one-time deal—a random hookup to cure some sort of mutual misery. No part of me thinks this is some kismet meet-cute where the famous athlete and the thirty-year-old black sheep bond over temporary intimacy, then fall madly in love. But sex has never meant much to me—yet another way I let down mommy dearest. So, whatever this is, doesn't matter anyway.
"That's a little presumptuous, don't you think?" I tease, making sureI don't looktooeasy.
He narrows his eyes in my direction. "Is that a no?"
Walking to set my glass on the edge of the bar, I take a deep breath as my back's turned to him. On the exhale, I spin around and step toe to toe with him. "Definitely not a no."
Let's lose these fucking stockings.
Prologue - Drew
That Same Night
The bathroom door clicks shut, and I lock it behind me, turning to see this mystery girl already pulling off those things women wear under dresses. That fast, she has them past her hips, making me regret not just reaching behind me to turn the brass knob.
"Right to it, huh?" I ask, the stretchy material now in a heap at her ankles, her strappy heels already off.
"What? Oh, no." Her voice is breathless, and though it might be from the effort it seems to have taken to roll the elastic down her thighs, I'd like to think it's because of me. "These things were driving me crazy. Honestly, they would have come off either way." She pulls her foot from each of the holes and tosses the tan ball of fabric right into the trashcan.
Huffing out a laugh, my gaze falls down her tight and curvy body pretty fucking obviously.Holy shit. I don't know who this girl is or where the hell she came from, but she's fucking stunning. More of her skin is showing than not, her dress held up by only her chest, and she fills it out flawlessly—a perfect mix of classy and sexy. But as much as I love iton, I'd much prefer it on the goddamn floor.
After the week I've had, this gala was literally the last thing I wanted to do. I've spent the past forty-eight hours dealing with the aftermath of the random drug test I failed, and it took everything in me to even get out of bed, let alone face the entire athletic community of Golden City.
I had been having a rough… month, and when I started dropping the ball on the ice, I outsourced—self-medicated. My sounding board has been gone for a while, so I looked for support where I knew I shouldn't. Then I got caught. And now? Well, now, I don't know where it all leads. Except for tonight. Tonight, I'm taking back control. I'm leaving this fishbowl I'm swimming in, and I'm seeking relief in the stranger that I can't keep my eyes off of.
All of a sudden, the girl reaches behind her. She unzips her dress with the slip of her hand, and peels it off, letting it fall to the gray-tiled floor. All the while, her eyes are fixed on mine until I can't stop them from dropping to her matching black set.
"Your move, Anderson," she says, leaning back to place her palms on the sink. The white porcelain is stark in contrast to her tan hands around it and the dark lace now on display. She has random tattoos stickered all over her skin. Some phrases here, a word or two there, some pictures I can't quite make out because I'm trying to take her all in.So fucking sexy.
Blowing through my lips, I stride toward her slowly. "You might regret that."
She tilts her head and narrows her eyes. "Eh, I don't think so. But it's already been a long night, so if you don't mind..." She tilts her chin as if to gesture me over, and I comply without question, darting to her.
I first spotted her when she walked in alone, my gaze fixed on the exit from the moment the speeches ended as I waited for my chance to leave. Instead, I caught sight of the rest of my night, all legs and confidence in her little red number. It's ballsy to show up at these things by yourself. There are a lot of people with power, and some plain old rich assholes, to just float in casually unconnected to one.
