If she’s not there already, Eva’s on her way.
I was still staringat Tristan’s message when another text came through.
Dmitri
Your little ptichka asked for a favor. Don’t fuck this up, Sasha.
The coffee grinder whirred to life in my kitchen.
Christ.
The familiar scent of coffee beans filled the air. Steam hissed through the machine, just like she used to make in my office, when she knelt beside my desk, when she?—
My feet carried me to the kitchen before I could stop myself.
Eva stood at the counter, her fingers tracing the rim of the demitasse as she waited—the same subconscious gesture she’d made dozens of times before that never failed to make my cock hard.
She didn’t look up as she drew the perfect shot of espresso and added a dollop of foamed milk. “Your coffee is ready, Sir.”
A maelstrom of emotions spiraled in my chest—respect, pride, longing, and a thousand others I couldn’t name.
“Eva—”
“Eight o’clock.” She finally met my gaze, her eyes dark with promise. “Center ice.”
She moved past me, close enough that I could feel her heat, smell her orange and vanilla sweetness, but she didn’t touch me. And she certainly didn’t give me permission to touch her.
The front door clicked shut behind her.
On my counter, steam rose from a perfectly made macchiato.
Fuck.
67
EVA
I clutchedthe hockey stick like a lifeline, the shaft laying across my bare thighs, as if holding it tighter could make this moment faster.
A spotlight shined on me—Haruto’s contribution to this stupid fucking plan. Otherwise, only the soft emergency lighting interrupted the unending darkness of the arena.
This had to work.
Please.
Come.
I can’t do this without you.
Gooseflesh pebbled on my legs, and I regretted my plan to wear an old jersey of Alek’s, the sexiest black panties I owned, skates, and nothing else.
Fuck, what if someone saw me? What if Haruto and Rami hadn’t been able to bribe the cleaning staff to stay out? What if the staff hadn’t been able to get the word out to lock up the training rooms?
Shit shit shit shit.
This was a terrible idea.
Humiliation poured through me as I waited. Theyweren’t coming. When they said they wanted to give me space, what they really meant was that they didn’t want me.
