I narrow my eyes on him. “Something like that. It was a few years ago.”
“Would I know him?”
“Aiden Scott.”
A muscle in his jaw tightens. He takes a long, slow sip of his drink.
“Wait, you actually know him?”
“I do,” he says, dipping his chin and sucking in a deep breath. “He plays dirty, but acts like a baby whenever he gets a taste of his own medicine. Don’t care for the guy, honestly.”
“Yeah, me neither,” I laugh quietly. Aiden and I dated during his first two years in the league. We met through a mutual friend while I was still in college. I broke things off with him afterpictures surfaced of him out with another girl in a different city. “You play for the Ice Hawks?”
Matty bites back a grin. “You really don’t like hockey, do you?” A soft laugh falls from his lips, sliding against my eardrums like silk. “I do. My real name’s Matteo Ford, but everyone calls me Matty.”
His name is familiar, even though his face isn’t. And trust me, he has a face that would be hard to forget. Aiden complained about him before, although I didn’t pay much attention to the things he said. Like Matty, there wasn’t enough space in the room for his ego.
“I’ve heard of you before.”
His face lights up. “Careful, Sunny. You’re gonna have me talking without thinking again.”
“Learn some self control,” I quip, rolling my eyes.
Amusement fills his eyes, his gaze scanning my face once more before he pushes his seat back and rises to his feet. “I enjoyed this. We should do it again. Same time and place next week?”
I tilt my head back, staring up at him as I narrow my eyes and purse my lips. “You wish.”
“Can I at least get your number?”
“Nope.” I lean back in my seat, looking up at him with the sweetest smile. “Maybe you’ll get lucky and see me here again.”
“Damn,” he breathes, the word barely audible. He lets out another soft chuckle, shaking his head. His expression is unreadable, but the curiosity in his eyes is impossible to ignore. “Okay. Iwillsee you again. One way or another.”
“Are you always this arrogant?” I huff, arching an eyebrow.
“Not arrogant, just confident,” he says with a wink before leaving me alone at the table. I can’t help myself as my eyes follow after him as he heads out of the coffee shop. He pausesjust outside the door, his gaze colliding with mine through the glass. A slow, sure smirk lifts his lips before he walks away.
What the hell just happened?
CHAPTER FOUR
MATTEO
“I shouldn’t have been staring at her, but I was merely studying the competition. We were brought together for a collaborative exhibition with the best artists in the world... and I had every intention of beating her.” - Julian Hart, Painted Inferno
“Matty, crash the net!” Shaw yells at me as he takes the lead, skating into our offensive zone. He passes over the blue line and I’m right after him. One of the D-men for the other team blocks him, forcing more space between Shaw and the net as he pushes him closer to the boards.
There’s less than a minute left and we’re tied with the other team, 1-1. Theo managed to sneak a goal past their brick-wall of a goalie early in the second period. We knew this one was going to be a tough game, but we have a chance.
Shaw’s up near the red line, waiting in the corner. The muscles in my legs fire as I push my way toward the crease, turning with the play as I knock my shoulder against one of their defensemen.
“Asshole,” he snaps, bumping into me harder.
The puck moves across the ice, leaving Shaw’s stick. Theo receives the pass, his head on a swivel as he looks for an opportunity for a shot. I’m shoulder to shoulder with the defensemen and he’s trying to tangle up my stick.
I skate half a stride in front of him, the puck sliding back to the point. Cross slaps his stick, calling for the pass. The goalie’s moving along the crease, trying to see past me as I use my body as a screen.
“Get the fuck off,” I bark at the defenseman who’s still fucking with my stick. My eyes are glued to the puck as the guys try to get a scoring chance. “Net, net!”
