She tilts her head and studies me. “Double dare you.”
My teeth grind together as she steps closer. Now she’s the one in my space with her chin lifted, and her scent fills my lungs. My heart hammers, and my hands twitch at my sides because I don’t know if I want to shove her away or pull her closer. The uncertainty makes me furious.
“Spoiled little Pattycakes isn’t getting his way. Boohoo.”
I hold my breath because if I inhale again, I’ll smell her, and I can’t think straight when I do.
“Fuck off. Seriously,” I manage.
“Think you’d enjoy that too much.” Her expression hardens as she holds my gaze. “The bottom line is, you don’t get to demand anything from me. Stop cornering me in hallways and barking orders because you’re uncomfortable. Grow up.”
“This is bullshit.”
“This is my project. My timeline. My rules. You’ll do what I want for once. So sorry you don’t like not having control of situations.” She’s so close that I can see the gold flecks in her eyes. “You’ll get over it.”
“You’re impossible,” I say roughly.
“Hmm.” She smirks. “Maybe I get off on watching you squirm. Like at New Year’s.”
“Seeing you with Damien didn’t bother me. He has zero integrity. Says more about you than him. You a puck bunny, Ken?”
For a split second, something flickers across her face. It’s gone before I can name it and replaced by that armor-plated grin, but I saw the crack.
“And if I were, know that you’d be the last dick on my roster.” She glances down at my crotch and then back to my eyes. “Not into micro-penises.”
I burst into laughter. “That’s the best you have? I wouldn’t fuck you with my brother’s dick.”
Her cheeks heat. “You’re such a bastard.”
“And you’re a bitch,” I say as she storms off.
I stand in the empty hallway with my fists balled at my sides, teeth aching from how hard I’ve been clenching them.
I have months of pretending she doesn’t get under my skin. Whatever happened between us years ago should be ancient history by now, but it’s not, and I don’t know how to bury it when she keeps digging it back up.
I need to get her out of my system, whatever it fucking takes, because I can’t keep doing this.
4
KENDALL
I’ve successfully avoided Patterson by keeping my head down and sticking to my schedule. Tuesday morning, I arrived at the facility exactly fifteen minutes before Tyler Reed’s session and left exactly thirty minutes after. There was no lingering, and I gave Patterson zero chances to corner me again.
Working with Tyler was easy. He’s twenty-two—five years younger than me. The guy has a face that photographs well, but he’s quiet and doesn’t open himself up much, even with open-ended questions. I asked about his hometown, and he gave me two generic sentences. When I inquired about his family, he had a little more to say, but not much. By the end of the session, I had solid reference photos and enough sketches to work from.
I’m crossing my fingers that the rest are as easy, but that’s wishful thinking. Some of these guys have known me since my ice-skating days. Some have played for my dad their entire career.
As I suspected, Hunter Matthews was the polar opposite. That man talked for an hour straight about his stats, workout routine, favorite restaurants, and opinions on the protein powder he’s become the face of. Each time I asked him tohold still, he’d shift into a new pose, like he was shooting for a magazine spread and not sitting for a painting. Hunter being flirty is an understatement. By the time he left, I had over a hundred photos of him, and half of them were blurry. At least he’ll make for an interesting portrait.
Now it’s Thursday, and I’m set up in one of the conference rooms, waiting for Callan Riddick, the team captain.
I arrange my supplies on the table—a few charcoal pencils, an eraser, sketch paper, and my camera for reference photos. The conference room has decent natural light from the floor-to-ceiling windows, and I’ve positioned a chair where I can easily capture the angles and shadows of his chiseled jaw.
Callan arrives ten minutes early, which I appreciate more than he knows.
“Kendall.” He nods at me with a kind smile. “Ready to make me pretty?”
“That’s the goal.”
