29. Olivia

29

OLIVIA

It’s after midnight, and the party at Aaron’s place is going strong. Most of the Cyclones have shown up—save for Seb and Maddie, who went home to relieve their babysitter—as well as a bunch of other people. Some I recognize, some I don’t.

Music is pumping from the speakers, the Christmas tree is glittering in all its glory, and the drinks are flowing freely. Someone ordered several pizzas, which are now stacked haphazardly all over the living room. A few people are locked into rowdy, festive party games.

Usually, an event like this would make me feel uncomfortable and have me moving from group to group like a rogue puzzle piece, trying way too hard to fit somewhere.

Not this party.

After a couple glasses of champagne at the gala, I’ve switched to Diet Coke because of my round-trip flight tomorrow, along with the fact that I’ll be looking at apartments in the morning. But I find I don’t even need the social lubricant of alcohol to take the edge off right now.

“Go go go go go!” I cry, howling with laughter as Stefani stands on a chair and attempts to wiggle another gold hula hoop over Aaron’s head. He’s already spinning two, his hips gyrating wildly, and it might be the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.

Jake, on the opposing team, is somehow successfully spinning three, and Colton and Lena are attempting to slip yet another hoop over his head.

The game is called Five Gold Rings, and the object is to get someone from your team to spin five hula hoops at once. It’s ridiculous in the best way.

“Add a fourth one to his arm!” someone calls out, and Triple J throws a hoop to Aaron. He sticks an arm out and somehow manages to catch it, which makes everyone cheer uproariously.

“I’m going to need a video of this,” I say with delight. “Be right back.”

I duck out of the living room and head to the kitchen, where I left my phone charging. I’m walking around the corner, still chuckling to myself, when a couple of quiet voices in the hallway stop me cold.

A man whose voice I don’t recognize is comforting a woman. A peek around the corner confirms that I don’t know either of them, but I can also confirm that she is a very, very pretty redhead.

“I don’t know why you care so much about her, Tessa.” The man shakes his head. “She’ll be old news before you know it.”

“She’s Jake Griswold’s sister ,” Tessa hisses back and I become even more still and quiet. They’re talking about me? “He must be serious about her. He’d never just screw with his teammate’s sister.”

I startle, taking a step further back so I’m fully out of sight.

What the hell?

Who even is this Tessa? And why on earth is she apparently so bothered about me?

“Okay, look.” The man drops his voice further. “I heard this through the grapevine, but he’s just using her for appearances after that story blew up on Thanksgiving. She’s a cover so he looks good. Basically his beard. Rumor has it that the team’s GM was really pissed about the whole thing so this— she —is purely for optics.”

“You think?” Tessa asks, her question sounding hopeful in a way that makes my stomach churn. “That would make sense. I mean, she’s not even that pretty. She was looking at him tonight like a lovesick puppy, and don’t get me wrong, I’m sooooo over him, but I just don’t understand what she can offer him that I couldn’t.”

The guy snorts. “Maybe she’s a nice person?”

His voice is laced with sarcastic laughter and Tessa laughs, too. The bitter, high-pitched, mocking sound makes me feel like my skin is burning.

“Oh, yeah,” she agrees. “Because Aaron Marino is so into women’s… personalities.”

The guy snorts. “He never stays long enough to find out if a woman even has one.”

“You definitely don’t want to catch feelings for him,” Tessa says. She’s still laughing, but I can’t help but hear how her voice cracks slightly. “Because he sure won’t catch them for you.”

I take another step back, and another. And when I know I’m out of earshot, I bolt for the stairs, thanking my stars that I ditched my heels earlier.

I run to Aaron’s bedroom and duck into the ensuite, my heart pounding.

When I look in the mirror, I’m horrified to see tears dripping down my face. And I can’t stop sniffling. I quickly turn on the shower full-blast to drown out any potential noise in case this pesky tearfulness turns into a full-blown ugly cry.

It’s probably an unnecessary precaution to have the shower going—the party downstairs is loud and raucous—but I’ll be damned if I let Aaron Marino hear me cry.

That was just so… humiliating .

Letting out a shaky breath, I try to let my logical self beat out my emotional one:

I have no reason to be upset. Tessa’s mean friend wasn’t wrong when he said that this was just a cover and I’d be old news soon. I knew all along that this wasn’t real; tonight was just about making it look real, and I was dumb enough to confuse reality with acting when we were dancing together earlier and Aaron rested his forehead against mine.

We clearly did a good job pretending because Tessa—whoever she is—sure seemed to buy it.

So, you know, go us.

But then, something horrible happens. Because the more I try to reason with myself, the harder the tears fall. And I know, deep down, that this is about more than the conversation I just overheard—hurtful as it was about the way I look.

There’s a sudden knock at the door.

“Olivia?” Aaron’s voice carries over the rush of the shower water.

“I’m showering!” I yell back. “Go away.”

“Are you naked?” he counters, not going away.

“People are usually naked when they shower, yes.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” He pauses. “Plus, you don’t sound like you’re in the shower, you sound like you’re right on the other side of the door.”

“I’m, uh, about to get undressed. For said shower.”

“So, you’re fully clothed.”

“Um. Not no?”

“Okay, hold up. I’m coming in for a minute.”

“No, I?—”

The door swings open. “You said you’d be right back and then you disappeared so I came looking, but I can’t say I understand the logic of showering during a pa?—”

His words come to an abrupt halt when he sees me, and the teasing grin on his face falls right off.

“Livvy,” he says roughly. “What’s wrong?”

He’s discarded his tuxedo jacket and bowtie, leaving him in his dress pants and a perfectly tailored white button-down with the top button popped, showing off a little triangle of tanned skin. His hair is mussed and his eyes are heavy-lidded, and he looks so perfectly, exquisitely handsome that it makes my stomach clench. “Nothing.”

He comes to stand in front of me, his face creased with worry, and he gently puts his hands on my arms. “Don’t lie to me. What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

His voice has taken on an almost tender quality, and for some reason, this makes me mad.

“No, I just…” The tears start to fall again, hot and angry this time, and I furiously blink them away. “Who’s Tessa?” I find myself asking.

He looks totally thrown off by the question. “Tessa? She’s someone I briefly dated last winter. Why?”

“She’s here tonight.”

“Oh, yeah. She works in communications at the RGM, so she knows a bunch of people.” He narrows his eyes. “Did she say something to upset you?”

“Honestly, it sounds like you broke her heart and she doesn’t understand why you ended it with her.”

Aaron scrubs a hand over his face. “Ah, yeah. We went on a couple of dates, and she wasn’t happy when I ended it. But it wasn’t going anywhere. We had nothing in common, and I had a feeling that she liked the idea of dating a hockey player more than she liked me. It was around that time that I realized I was getting sick of casual dating, and I didn’t want to prolong something with Tessa that would never amount to anything.”

“You thought she wasn’t good enough for you,” I say flatly.

“I thought she wasn’t right for me,” he corrects. “Olivia, I promise I’m not a callous guy. I know you’d like to think I pick up and discard women as it suits me, but that’s not the case. It’s not that I believe people aren’t good enough for me.”

“Apart from me.” It’s a stupid thing to say, but my emotions are still getting the better of me.

His eyes flicker in surprise. “What?”

“You thought I wasn’t good enough for you.”

“What the hell makes you think that?” he demands.

“That night when you almost kissed me, then took off like a bat out of hell?” I reply, then immediately cringe at my own words. “Look, I know it’s dumb and petty of me to even bring it up, because we were just kids back then and a lot has changed since. I know you’re different now. But, I guess, hearing Tessa tonight reminded me of that whole situation and how it made me feel, even though it’s ancient history.” I sniff snottily, waving my hand. “This is so embarrassing. I’m such a mess for no reason.”

He closes the gap between us and captures my wrists in his hands, moving my hands away from my face so he can look at me. “You think I left that night because I thought you weren’t good enough for me?”

I nod.

He swears.

“Livvy, I left that night for the exact opposite reason. I panicked because I realized how much I liked you, but also realized that I was about to leave for Atlanta to start training camp. And on top of that, you were my best friend’s little sister and he’d be furious with me for making a move on you.”

“What?”

“The next day, I was going to talk to you about what almost happened, but then, you made some comment about how you’d gone temporarily insane. I thought you’d done the whole thing to mess with me. So, I did the same. Acted like I’d been messing around too, because I… I guess I was dumb enough to believe that was easier than admitting the truth.”

“The truth?”

He swallows, his Adam’s apple straining along the thick, tanned column of his throat. “That I was kind of obsessed with you.”

My head is pounding with confusion. “You… what?”

Aaron gives me this sweet, almost vulnerable look that I’ve never seen before but is already a favorite of mine. “Liv, you know why I gave you the nickname ‘Lil Griz’?”

“To make me crazy,” I reply with a dry smile.

“No. Because it was the easiest way to remind myself that you were Jake’s sister, and therefore off-limits.” His fingertips stroke my wrists, which are still wrapped in his hands. “I always had a crush on you. How could I not? You were so fun and feisty and interesting.”

He closes his eyes for a moment, long lashes skimming his cheekbones before he opens them again and gives me the full force of his gaze.

“If one of us was ever not good enough, it was me. You were—and still are—so far out of my league.”

His words dance all over my skin, making me shiver.

“Shut up, Aaron.” My voice is half-hearted, my stomach full of nervous butterflies.

“I mean it. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”

The look he gives me when he says this gives me goosebumps, and it takes everything in me to keep my composure as I roll my eyes and gesture towards my face. “Even with puffy red panda eyes?”

He smiles softly. “Trust me—no other woman can hold a candle to you. Even with puffy red panda eyes and smudged lipstick.” His smile slides into a sudden smirk. “Even when you’re soaked to the skin like a drowned rat.”

“Wha—?”

The word doesn’t have a chance to leave my lips because, in one swift movement, he puts his hands on my waist, picks me up, and walks us into the shower until my back hits the wall.

The scorching water rushes over us, soaking us to the skin, and my hands dig into his shoulders as I squeal. “What are you doing? Your tux is going to be ruined!”

“You were shivering,” he counters, running his hands over my arms as if he’s attempting to smooth my goosebumps away. Unfortunately, the feel of his rough skin on mine has the opposite effect, and despite the warm water, I break out in about a million more goosebumps.

Steam billows around us in clouds and the satin of my dress sticks to my skin.

“You’re beautiful all the time, Olivia.” His voice is hot, his expression raw.

He cups my chin, his thumb moving to trace my bottom lip, and for a moment, all my nerve endings sizzle in exquisite white-hot bliss.

“But you hate me,” I mumble stupidly, half-aware that I’m breathing way too hard.

Aaron looks at me through heavy-lidded, dark eyes as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, fingertips skimming my cheek. “The only thing I hate about you, Olivia, is having to be around you and not being able to do this.”

He leans forward and carefully, measuredly, brushes his lips across mine, featherlight and teasing and warm and entirely perfect. It’s somehow too much and nowhere near enough all at once, but too soon, he pulls back, his breathing ragged.

My eyes flutter open to find his fixed on me.

Watching me.

Waiting for me, I realize.

And apparently, all the blood has run out of my brain and flooded the rest of my body, because in answer, I close the gap between us and press my lips against his again.

A low groan comes from his throat and he wastes no time, his hand moving to my face, angling my chin so he can kiss me deeper.

As his tongue moves over mine, an anguished sound leaves my mouth and my hands struggle to find purchase on his chest, grabbing at his soaked clothes as I pull him impossibly closer.

The steamy water continues to pour over us, and all I can feel is the heat of liquid on my skin, the heat of Aaron’s body against me, the heat of his mouth as it moves over mine in a rhythm that makes my head spin and my legs shake. In response, he slides his hands under my thighs, picking me up again so I’m pinned against the wall, my legs looping around his waist as he continues to kiss me so expertly, it makes me forget anything outside of him even exists.

I’ve never in my life been kissed like this. Had no idea kissing could be like this.

During my fantasies of one-upping Aaron and getting my retribution, my mind would sometimes run away with me and I’d somehow end up fantasizing about what it would be like to kiss him. In my mind, we’d be warriors sparring, fighting for control of the situation, using every weapon in our arsenal to one-up each other.

In reality, I am completely at his mercy.

I’m hot and flustered and drenched in desire, putty in his hands. He’s kissing me wildly, with complete abandon, scrapes of teeth and tongue and total raw emotion. Yet there’s something gentler underneath it all, driving the kiss. Like he’s savoring every second, drinking me in as he kisses me senseless.

My legs tighten around him, and my hands move from the wet shirt sticking to his skin to find his hair, tangling in it and pulling it. He kisses me harder, one arm wrapped under my thighs, while the other braces on the shower tile behind my head, holding us firmly together.

His lips break away from mine and I moan in disappointment, until his hot, wet mouth latches onto my neck. My back arches as he kisses from my pulse point all the way to my collarbone, which he nips with his teeth, then soothes with a kiss, before kissing his way back up again, a man on a mission.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this, Olivia? Do you know how many times I’ve laid in bed at night, thinking about you? Dreaming about doing exactly this with you?”

His words make my entire core feel like it’s unspooling, unraveling, and all I can do is croak his name—a shaky, desperate “ Aaron ”—before I grab his face again. Like I solely exist right now to have his lips on mine.

He laughs softly, the sound deep and throaty. “The answer is too many times to count.”

And then he kisses me again.

And again.

And again.

Until there’s no here and now, or me or him. But just us, in this moment, soaked clothes sliding over our skin, and our mouths exploring and learning each other as we trace the lines of each other’s bodies.