I laugh as I stop at a concession stand, since I feel too lazy to go all the way down to the ice level to get something from the free buffet that’s provided for WAGs and family members. As I wait in line, I notice the souvenir cups. One has the Manatees captain, David Dewitt. Another has Anders Larrson, the hot Swedish scoring sensation, on it.
Then I see the third cup option, something I hadn’t noticed before.
It’s Aiden.
Excitement surges through me as I stare at his image on the large black cup. I’m so proud of him. Everyone has recognized how important his work ethic is, how well he plays defense, and the quiet leadership he provides for the team. Fans appreciate him, and this cup is a nod to that.
I know my dad certainly loves what he does on the ice.
But would Dad love what he’s doing off it with me? Would my dad consider that leadership?
My chest draws tight. I can’t think about this. I’ve been pushing down these doubts, these worries, my fears for Aiden’s future, since I’ve walked into this arena tonight.
I focus on the fact that I know Aiden wants what we have. It’s what he told Wyatt. Would he really take this risk if he didn’t think I was worth it?
He wouldn’t,I reassure myself.
But as I stare at Aiden’s image on the cup, I realize how much I’m going to have to take this into my own hands. Yes, my dad is his coach, but I’m hisdaughter. It’s going to be up to me to convince him that this is more than a hookup.
I have to show Dad this is real.
And that Aiden is the only man for me.
Chapter Eighteen
I ease my car into a visitor parking spot in Aiden’s building garage, ready to go upstairs and meet him. The Manatees beat Nashville tonight, and now I get to celebrate that win on a date with Aiden. I’m about to text him that I’m here when I see his Lamborghini SUV pull up behind me, blocking me in. Confused, I turn off my engine and get out of my car.
Aiden lowers the window on the passenger door, leaning over so he can talk to me. “Get in. I’m taking you somewhere tonight.”
I pause as I drink him in. The suit jacket is gone, and he’s wearing a whisper-pink dress shirt that looks gorgeous on him. The platinum Tiffany watch is on his left wrist, and that shock of hair is sweeping across his brow again, covering his scar. There’s a smile hovering on his full, sensual lips, and that dimple is threatening to pop out at any moment.
And I know I would do anything this man asked me to do.
I get in, and the first thing Aiden does is raise my window back up. As soon as it is, his hand slides underneath my hair to the back of my head, and he draws me closer to him. He smells like a shower, with soap and a fresh application of cologne on his skin, and I shiver excitedly when his head moves closer to mine.
“From the moment I saw you on the glass, this is what I was thinking about,” he murmurs, his lips now mere inches from mine.
“And what was that?” I flirt back.
“Kissing you,” he murmurs, his words brushing softly over my lips before his mouth meets mine.
I melt into him, relishing this slow, drugging kiss before he breaks apart from me. As soon as he does, Aiden moves his hand to my face, caressing it with his large palm. “You looked beautiful,” he says softly. “I kept checking you out when I was on the bench. Casually looking over my shoulder during commercial timeouts.”
I’m about to tease him, tell him he should have been listening to my dad, but I stop the words before they can escape my lips.
“What?” he asks, his perceptive eyes searching my face. “What did I say?”
The old me—with my previous relationship—would have murmured “nothing!” and put a smile on my face. I wouldn’t want to worry him or possibly cause a problem by putting the reality of our relationship into perspective.
But with Aiden, I feel like we need to walk in the complicated together, not just me alone in my head.
“I was going to tease you and tell you that you should have been listening to my dad instead of watching me,” I admit. “Then I checked myself from saying it. Because I didn’t want you to feel weird or guilty. But I’m telling you because I know we have to be honest with each other as we navigate this.”
Aiden moves his car forward, and I carefully study his face. His brows draw together, and he presses his lips together in a tight line.
“Trust me, I listen to Coach during the game,” he says as he exits the garage. “When I’m playing, I’m playing. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t notice you sitting a few rows behind the bench during a break in play.” He gives me a brief sideways glance, and then his mouth curves up into a soft smile.
“I’m glad I didn’t make it awkward by giving you my true thoughts,” I say.
