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Nate goes quiet. So does Eden.
Stevie appears from reception to drop a schedule beside her brother, and I don't miss the way her eyes flick to Aidan, and Aidan suddenly finds his beer fascinating.
Beside me, Audrey's eyebrows rise a full inch.
It's funny watching her sit in the middle of all this. She fits right into the team like she's been here for years. A week ago these guys were strangers fighting over a luggage cart, and now, they're a team, and only half of that happened on the ice.
Audrey's building everything around it… the world that makes them want to stay and sit around a table and have lunch together.
I should appreciate that professionally.
Instead, I keep staring at her lips and wonder if she'll ever ask me to kiss her again.
The team eventually drifts off toward the thermal spa for recovery, dragging Coach Dave with them despite his protests that his recovery is in the bar.
The restaurant empties table by table until it's just Audrey and me sitting among the wreckage of demolished burger boards, abandoned beer glasses and crumpled napkins printed with tiny reindeer.
She catches me looking.
"You know," she says, propping her chin on her hand, "you looked more comfortable getting slammed into the boards today than you did in that elf costume."
"The boards don't have jingling bells."
"The bells were the best part. Very festive. Very jingly."
"You spent an entire afternoon with your hands under my tinsel. You don't get to mock the costume."
"That was professional liaison work."
"Was kissing me against a wall in your contract too? I'd like to see that clause."
Her cheeks flush that gorgeous pink, but she doesn't back down. She never backs down. "I recall issuing you a command after that. No kissing until I ask."
"You did."
"And you've been suspiciously well-behaved."
"I have excellent self-control."
"Do you?" She stands without taking her eyes off me, then I can only sit and watch as she bends down, ever so slowly, waving her ass right in my fucking face, to gather her tablet from the floor. "Because you've looked at my ass seven times since we left the locker room."
"Fuck." I stand too. "Guess I've been caught, huh."
She backs up a step, hips still swaying as I follow. Another step, and another, until the window is behind her and the snowy rink glows through the glass at her back.
I plant one hand on the table edge beside her hip and lean in close enough that her breath catches. Our mouths are an inch apart.
I don't kiss her.
I'm not allowed to.
"You're right," I say quietly. "I want to kiss you. So badly it's ruining my sleep. But you told me I couldn't until you asked."
Her eyes drop to my lips. "And you always follow instructions?"
"Not always." I let my gaze fall to her mouth and stay there. "Just when disobeying means I don't get to hear you tell me how bad you want me."
Something shifts in her face—the teasing cracking open into something real, something hungry. She covers it fast, because she's Audrey.