He said nothing, just leaned back with the kind of grudging acknowledgment only he could manage. I stood, smoothing my skirt, and let a small, victorious smile curl at the corners of my lips. Everything was under control.
Or so I thought.
“You know, Holly…” Bob began, voice smooth and casual, but with an edge that made my stomach tighten. “You better watch your step. If management found out about you and Hunter, you might have to call up your friend in Chicago again.”
“Excuse me?” I forced a laugh. “That rumor’s dead and buried. And I’m a little disappointed that you’re trying to bring it up again, actually. I expected more from you.”
His grin widened, smug as ever. “Oh, I know it’s not a rumor. I’ve seen the way you look at him.” He leaned closer, voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. “Before you left, before Chicago. And now? You think management wouldn’t notice? That they wouldn’t ask questions?”
I felt my pulse spike, my skin prickling where his gaze lingered. “You’ve got it wrong. And what you think you’ve seen? You’re reading way too much into it. Things are purely professional between Hunter and me.”
But he laughed as though he were getting paid to. “I hope you haven’t unpacked your bags, because one word from me and you’ll be back in Chicago before the final buzzer tonight.”
My stomach twisted, but even as I was formulating a response to quell Bob’s unrelenting assault, a voice cut in from behind me.
“Is that any way to speak to a lady?” Hunter’s stride to our table was swift, confident, and every step of it made the heat rise in mybelly.
Bob’s eyebrows shot up at his sudden appearance, and apparent knowledge of what we’d been talking about. “Eavesdropping is impolite, Callahan.”
“Yeah, well, your face is impolite,” he shot back, face tight with restrained anger. “And if you think threatening Holly’s gonna get you anywhere–”
“Who was threatening?” Bob held up his hands innocently. “All I stated was the facts. The team has rules, and if those rules are broken…”
Hunter dropped into the chair I’d just vacated, and lowered his voice to a menacing level. “If she goes, I go. And who do you think management will side with? Their star goalie right when we’re headed for the Stanley Cup, or a mediocre marketing guy who stirs up more trouble than he smoothes over?”
Bob recoiled slightly, clearly taken by the plot twist. “Look—”
“No, you’re the one who needs to look,” Hunter said, ice in his tone. His eyes flicked to me for a moment, just long enough to communicate that he had my back, before locking back on Bob. “Just because all the shitty things you’ve done aren’t talked about, doesn’t mean we don’t have a record of it. I’ve been here for over seven years, remember? You don’t want me delivering those records to management.”
I felt a flush of admiration curl through me. The way he’d jumped to my defense, unhesitating, confident. I wanted to lean into him, press closer, but I kept my control.
“Thank you,” I murmured quietly to him, tugging at the edge of my composure. “But I think Bob got the message. Didn’t you, Bob?”
He simply nodded, and dropped his eyes to the cold oatmeal in front of him. I gathered my stuff and gestured to Hunter, “Come on.”
We weaved through the remaining tables, Bob trailing off, muttering threats under his breath, but clearly not willing to escalatefurther with Hunter breathing down his neck. Once the elevator doors closed behind us, the sudden solitude brought a charged hush. Hunter’s proximity pressed against me, the heat radiating from his body palpable. He leaned casually against the wall, one shoulder brushing mine. My breath hitched.
“Grade A asshole,” he muttered, which made me laugh.
“I appreciate your timing,” I said then. “Honestly though, I can handle Bob Trent on my own.”
“I know.” He shrugged, eyes on the numbers slowly creeping up to my floor. “It felt good sticking up for you though. And rubbing his face in all the stupid things he’s done.”
I punched the emergency stop without thinking. Well, I was thinking, just not about getting to my hotel room. I couldn’t wait that long.
Hunter was on me in a blink, pinning me against the wall with a crushing kiss, his hands roaming freely all over my body. The fuse sparked instantly, blazing through me with a heat I could barely contain.
“God,” he whispered against my lips, teeth nipping softly at my bottom one. The sound of his voice sent a surge of arousal pooling between my legs.
I let out a soft laugh, shaky and breathless. “People are gonna be out here soon. To check on the elevator.”
But the words were a pretense. Every inch of me wanted more, closer, and the teasing kiss morphed into something that had been simmering since I left his bed the last time.
“Push the button, then.” He bucked his hips, and the evidence of his burgeoning hard-on pressed against the restless pulsing in my core. “The sooner we get to your room, the better.”
We broke apart, sharing a quiet moment of disbelief, of relief, of that rare, overwhelming closeness. My fingers traced the line of his jaw, and his thumb brushed over my lips in a silent promise.
I pushed the button to release the stop, and the elevator lurched into motion.
