20. Ryan

I sitin the locker room after practice, methodically unlacing my skates as sweat drips down my brow. The pungent aroma of well-worn gear and male musk surrounds me, but my mind is miles away, lost in vivid memories of Emma. It's been a couple of days since I learned she was seeing Lukas and Alex as well, and we haven't had a chance to catch up since. I know that I need to tell her where my head is at.

Flashes of our natural connection in Detroit replay in my head—her captivating blue eyes sparkling up at me, the conversations that we had over dinner, the confident and sexy way she undressed herself and touched herself in front of me.

Emma understands and accepts me in a way I haven't experienced since Madison ripped my life to shreds. With Emma, I feel like I can finally break free from the chains of my past and charge forward into something real.

My pulse quickens as I recall the moment she saw me fully naked, her hungry gaze raking over my oversized manhood without a flicker of intimidation. If anything, the desire in her eyes only burned brighter. I'm used to women balking at my size, making me feel like a freak. But not Emma. Her brazen lust and easy acceptance unleashed something primal in me.

I adjust myself as my cock stirs to attention, already semi-hard from just thinking about her. Closing my eyes, I picture notching the head of my thick cock at the entrance to her tight pussy, pushing in slowly until I'm seated all the way in her…

"Yo, Thompson!" Slade's voice booms, snapping me out of my fantasy. "Team meeting in five."

I clear my throat and stand abruptly, grateful my lower half is shielded by the locker room bench. I give a curt nod, avoiding his probing stare.

If the boys knew the direction of my thoughts, I'd never hear the end of it. But I can't help it—Emma has burrowed under my skin, and I don't want to claw her out. Lukas and Alex may be making a play for her too, but I'll be damned if I let them keep me from exploring this soul-deep connection. I haven't felt this alive in years.

I finish changing and steel my resolve before striding out to join my teammates, a new determination burning in my veins. Emma's worth fighting for, and she will be mine.

Later that day, I stride purposefully through the halls of the practice facility, my heart hammering against my ribs as I seek out Emma. I spot her in the stands by the practice rink, her brow furrowed in concentration as she pores over game footage on her laptop. The glow of the screen illuminates her delicate features, making my breath catch.

Quietly, I slip into the seat beside her, inhaling her subtle vanilla scent. "Hey," I murmur, my voice husky. "Can I talk to you for a sec?"

Emma starts slightly, then turns to me with a radiant smile that warms me to my toes. "Ryan, hi! Of course, what's up?" She sets her laptop aside, giving me space to slide into the stands next to her.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing pulse as I look into her luminous eyes. "I was wondering if you'd like to grab dinner with me sometime this week," I say, hoping I sound more confident than I feel. "Just the two of us. I want to take you out on a real date, something more than lunch or coffee."

Emma's eyes widen, surprise and delight flickering across her face. "I'd love that, Ryan. But are you sure? I know things are complicated, with Lukas and Alex and everything…"

She's not wrong. The tangled web between all of us is a mess I'm still trying to unravel myself. But in this moment, none of that matters. All I can see is her.

I reach out, taking her small hand in mine. "I'm sure, Emma. I want to give this a shot. I care about you, and I think we could have something really special."

Emma's smile softens, her eyes shining with emotion. "I care about you too, Ryan. And I'd love to go on a date with you."

Relief and elation burst through me. She said yes.

Against all odds, this amazing woman wants to take a chance on me, on us.

The night of our date arrives, and nervous energy crackles through me as I climb the stairs to Emma's apartment. I adjust my suit jacket and run a hand over my slicked-back hair, wanting everything to be perfect.

I raise my hand to knock, the sound echoing in the quiet hallway. A moment later, the door swings open, and the sight before me steals the breath from my lungs.

Emma stands there, a vision in a form-fitting red dress that hugs her curves like a lover's embrace. Her chestnut hair tumbles around her face in soft, glossy waves that make my fingers itch to touch. But it's her eyes, glittering with eager anticipation, that captivate me most.

"Wow," I breathe, drinking her in. "You look incredible."

A shy blush colors her cheeks as she ducks her head. "Thanks. You clean up pretty well yourself." Her gaze rakes appreciatively over me, sending a thrill down my spine.

I offer her my arm, and she takes it, her slender hand curling around my bicep. The simple contact sends electricity humming through my veins.

When we arrive at the Signature Room at the Hancock, Emma's eyes widen as she takes in the panoramic view of the glittering city lights spread out ninety-five stories below. "Ryan, this is amazing," Emma murmurs as the hostess leads us to our candlelit table by the window.

I can't take my eyes off her as we sip wine and talk, the conversation flowing effortlessly. In the intimate cocoon of our private corner, I find myself opening up to Emma in a way I never have with anyone else.

"Growing up, I always felt this immense pressure to live up to my family's expectations, especially since we didn't have much," I confess, the old tightness constricting my chest. "To be the perfect son, the perfect student, the perfect athlete. It took a toll on me, trying to maintain that facade."

Emma's hand reaches across the table to cover mine, her touch soothing and steadying. "I understand," she says softly, her eyes filled with empathy. "After losing my parents, I had this constant need to prove myself, to show that I could make it on my own. Like I had to earn my place in the world."

"Do you have anyone you can lean on?" I ask. "Where did you go after your parents died?"

Emma purses her lips, clearly trying to fight an emotion. "I moved in with my grandmother, who was my only remaining family member. She was…a tough woman. She missed my mom a lot, we both did. And it should've made us closer, but it didn't. She hated that I still loved hockey."

Emma swirls her wine around in her glass, her gaze softening.

"That sounds like a hard living situation," I tell her.

"It was," she agrees. "But…she was my person. She was all I had. Even if we rarely saw eye-to-eye. She died shortly after I graduated college." Her eyes start to tear up, and she groans, trying to bat away the feeling. "Sorry, it shouldn't get me like this still, but it does!"

I grab her hand across the table. "It's okay to miss someone even if your relationship was difficult. I miss my dad constantly, even though his expectations were slowly killing me."

Emma squeezes my hand and takes a steadying breath. "Thank you. You're right. Just because you miss someone, you don't have to rewrite your history with them."

Her words unlock something deep within me, a sense of kinship, of being truly seen and understood. I turn my hand over beneath hers, our fingers interlacing. "I'm glad you shared that with me, Emma. I want to know everything about you."

The night spins out in a magical haze of laughter, heartfelt confessions, and the electrifying awareness simmering between us. With every passing moment, I can feel myself falling harder, deeper, for this incredible woman.

And I know, with bone-deep certainty, that I never want to come back up for air.

After dinner, I take Emma home. We climb the stairs of her apartment building, and my hand finds the small of her back, a touch both possessive and gentle. Anticipation builds with each step.

Emma turns to face me, her eyes bright in the hall light.

"I had a really great time tonight," I murmur, my voice low and rough with barely contained emotion.

"Me too, Ryan." Her smile is soft, almost dreamy. "It was perfect."

We lock eyes, the atmosphere between us charged with intense pressure. It's like gravity, this force drawing me inexorably closer to her.

I gently caress Emma's cheek, our faces inching closer together. Her eyes flutter closed as our lips meet in a tender, lingering kiss.

It starts slow and sweet but quickly deepens, passion igniting between us. Emma's arms wrap around my neck, pulling me closer as I lose myself in the sweet taste of her.

The kiss turns heated, hungry, our breathing ragged. I trail my lips down the smooth column of her neck, relishing her shuddering sigh. Desire pulses hot and heavy through my veins. I want her with a desperation I've never felt before.

Emma pulls back, her eyes glazed over with lust. "Do you want to come inside?"

I drag in a ragged breath, wondering if I'm ready for that next step with her.