And I just couldn’t accept that she never thought about it anymore, about me, aboutus— especially now that fate had thrown us back into each other’s lives.
She is fucking married, you dumb, egotistical prick.
To your boss.
But it didn’t matter. I was firmly in the land of delusion.
My common sense could try to reason with me all it wanted; the facts didn’t change in my mind.
We had too many words left unsaid for me to leave her alone now that I had my chance.
Besides, there was just something about Nathan that I didn’t like. Ninety percent of the time, he seemed like the perfect gentleman. I watched him sweetly kiss and hold Ariana, listened to him dote on her when she wasn’t in the room, saw the way they looked at each other when they thought no one was looking.
He loved her. She loved him. That much was easy to see.
But I still didn’t trust him.
And I didn’t like her being with him.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I was acting so unlike myself, it was terrifying. I was the stable, professional, level-headed coach of a national league hockey team. I’d always put hockey above everything. I committed my whole life to it, not even surrendering enough time to properly try to have any sort of relationship outside those I had with my team and staff.
And here I was, dreaming of my general manager’s wife and hallucinating that I had any sort of chance in hell to win my second chance with her.
In what world would this turn out well?
That realization sobered me, and I found myself handing Lennon back to Livia, wishing both her and Carter a good night. I adjusted my messenger bag strap on my shoulder and headed for the door. I shouldn’t have stopped in at all. I needed to go home and cool off. I needed to get a fucking grip on reality.
Before I could escape, a slender hand caught my arm.
I closed my eyes on a pause, exhaling and telling myself to keep it short and professional before I turned and smiled.
“Congratulations,” Ariana said. “Not exactly the game I expected, but you pulled it off.”
Fuck, she was stunning.
Her long golden hair fell in soft, brushed waves over her shoulders, not a strand out of place despite the hours she’d spent in the suite and working on Sweet Dreams tasks before that. I didn’t recognize her sometimes, this poised, polished woman she’d grown to be in my absence, but I still knew it was her. I knew it was my Ari, the one twenty-year-old her dreamed of being, running a nonprofit and helping kids the way she’d always wanted to.
Not your Ari,my pea brain reminded me.Stop being delusional.
But then her piercing blue eyes lifted to mine, framed by delicate features I’d memorized long ago.
And it winded me.
I was knocked back in time again, and I didn’t see the put-together, elegant woman in front of me.
I saw the girl she’d been at twenty — standing in the hallway outside her dorm wearing my hoodie and a shy smile. I saw the way she used to tuck her hair behind her ear when she was nervous, all the pen caps she destroyed from gnawing on them during our study nights, the way she laughed so loudly only to cover her mouth and blush like she’d stepped out of line, like she believed her stepdad’s words that she should be seen and not heard.
That version of her flickered over this one, and it damn near leveled me.
“Thank you,” I managed, my voice rougher than it should’ve been. “The boys did the heavy lifting.”
Her lips curved politely, and I saw her eyes flick to the door before they were on me again.
“It was impressive,” she said. “Sandin was… unpredictable.”
“Understatement,” I muttered.
