Nothing seems to any longer, not rehashing the yelling match we had in the parking lot, or her smartass remarks after she found out I was her boss. And forget about my teenage angst over meeting the most incredible girl and having her blow me off because apparently, that wasn’t by choice.
Her presence constantly distracts me. Even after a shitty day like today, all I can think about is bending her over my fucking counter.
“What?” Isla demands. She stops packing the food she cooked, which looks to be spaghetti and meatballs, a personal favorite of mine. My stomach grumbles. I can’t remember what I ate today; my mind is too jumbled. “Do you have some rule about who can touch your stuff? Because I will remind you that—”
“No, that’s not—” I interrupt, my voice full of gravel. I clear my throat and try again. “You made dinner?”
I try to remember the last time anyone cooked for me and come up empty. I like cooking, so I didn’t mind doing it for my ex-wife or for Spencer when we were kids and our father worked long hours. But sometimes, I desperately want someone to take care of me, to give me a night off to rest.
Isla’s body immediately relaxes, and she resumes dumping the contents of the pot into a glassware container. “It’s nothing special, but should last a day or two. Your plate is in the microwave.”
My plate. Dammit. I do not want to see this side of her. Caring, kind, soft.
Except I also fucking do. Against all my better judgment, I want to know every part of her.
This pull toward Isla Covington defies logic, at least for me. Since my divorce, no other woman has captured my attention. I thought this part of me—the part thatwants—was gone. I’d made peace with my life as it is, running the rink, taking care of my dad and Spencer, and stepping onto the ice once a week with my buddies. An uncomplicated life.
Until Isla strode in like a wrecking ball, disrupting my carefully curated existence.
I roughly run a hand through my hair and suck in a breath. Someone needs to put me out of this misery. “You ready to go?”
Without a word, Isla grabs her bag and heads toward the front door. I follow, and it’s not because I need to drive her home.
When presented with the chance to be around her, I cannot stay away.
“Where are we headed?” I ask while climbing into the driver’s seat. Cinnamon fills the truck, and I curse myself for not letting my brother drive her home. I’m going to breathe Isla in every time I drive the next few days.
“The condos on Wilkshire,” she answers. She shifts in her seat, folding her legs underneath her body. “I’m staying with my brother.”
“The basketball player.”
Her head whips toward me, hair swaying with the movement. “How do you know that?”
“I’ve lived here my entire life, Isla.” I put the car in reverse and back out of the driveway. “Besides, you told me all about him.”
Her small gasp reverberates through me until it settles with a sharp pang to the pit of my stomach.
Is she surprised that I remember her? Or did she expect me to pretend that I didn’t hear her tell my niece the story of her first kiss, which was apparently with me?
I’ve wanted to tell her that we’ve met before, to see once and for all if that night registered for her, so I could stop wondering. But I didn’t think any good would come from it.
I ease the car down the driveway and pause to meet her bright eyes, wide and fixated on me. “How long did it take you to figure out who I was?”
“Day one.” She juts her chin out like she’s proved something to me.
“Not in that parking lot.”
She crosses her arms over her chest while a scowl crawls across her face. “You have a picture in your office. You looked like…well,you, from before.”
I resume driving to give myself a break from her gorgeous face, the one I can’t stop thinking about. “I didn’t say anything to Spencer.”
“I wouldn’t care if you did. It was a lifetime ago.” Her voice is soft, uncharacteristically without attitude, but still, I grimace. That night clearly meant more to me than it did to her.
The car sinks into silence until I can’t take it any longer.
“Why didn't you say anything?” I ask.
“I didn't know if you remembered me.”
