Her movements stopped, and she realized she was standing on the dance floor like a statue.
Move, Liv.
As if he heard her, he chose that moment to look over the dance floor, his eyes finding hers. The flashing lights of the nightclub made it hard to read his response, but she didn’t want to wait around to find out anyway.
She spun and grabbed Natalie. While playing it cool seemed impossible, she needed to try. At least until she could catch some air.
“What’s up?” Natalie said, leaning closer so she could hear.
“I’m just going to the restroom, and I’ll grab us a drink on the way back. What would you like?”
“Vodka tonic, please.”
Olivia fought her way through the tightly pressed bodies, and it was almost impossible to move, especially as the DJ took that moment to play a popular current hit. When she finally stepped off the dance floor, she took a breath and followed the sign toward the bathroom. A few more steps and she could compose herself, not that it would matter. Anders was clearly busy upstairs with a woman who was way more in his league than she was.
“Hey, Olivia.” Anders’s voice carried toward her. She heard the gasp in his breath; he’d obviously raced to reach her.
She could pretend she didn’t hear. Suddenly exhausted, she wasn’t ready to see him or talk to him.
“Olivia.” A hand reached for hers and she slipped her fingers from his grasp.
Shit. It’ll be okay, Liv. Just talk to him.
As she turned, she prayed she could trust her gut.
“Goddamn, Olivia. Wait.”
Anders needed to explain. Apologize. Fuck, he didn’t know what he needed to do. How could he explain the complex feeling in his gut that she’d be his kryptonite?
His team had won tonight, a crucial game that finally pulled them ahead of the pack. It had been an ugly, dragged out fight. In the last four days, he’d shifted state, team, home, and job. He’d played two games. The first he’d had minimum impact in, the second he’d made more of an impression with a play that had led to a goal. The press had loved that and was debating the larger impact he could have in the league, and how he had the goods to help Denver make the playoffs.
But all thoughts of the success went out of the window when he’d seen Olivia’s face look up at him from the dance floor. Since his return, he’d compartmentalized her, locked her in a box not to be opened. She was his fucking Pandora’s box.
He’d followed her down the club’s dark corridor that led toward the bathrooms. Reaching for her had been easy. Dealing with her snatching her hand away was something altogether different.
Olivia stopped but didn’t immediately turn around. He saw her shoulders straighten and her ribs expand as she took a deep breath, before she turned to face him.
“Hey, Anders,” she said, her voice too smooth. “Welcome back.”
Her smile was fake and he missed the real emotions and vulnerability she’d shared on Christmas Eve. The way she’d put her trust in him, the way she handed over her body to his care, had cranked him up so fucking high. Right now, it was impossible to tell what she was thinking.
“How have you been?” he asked.
“Oh, good. Fine. You?”
“I got traded to Denver.”
Her eyes flashed wide, the first genuine response he’d seen from her. It probably meant he was a heartless dick enjoying her reaction, even though there was nothing he could do about it.
“Congratulations. You’ve obviously settled in easily enough.” She glanced in the direction of the balcony.
Karl’s wife had brought her friend Sophie with her as a setup. A rocking body and meaningless conversation had seemed the perfect way to spend the evening celebrating his performance on the ice. And, fuck, he needed somewhere to put the adrenaline and testosterone that still flooded his veins.
But then he’d seen Olivia on the dance floor. He’d seen the momentary flash of hurt before she’d put up an emotional screen.
He was wrong, she wasn’t Pandora’s box. She was the sun, and he was Icarus, flying too close even though he knew better. “I don’t like hearing you talk this way,” he said, reaching his hand toward her cheek. He wanted to touch her, even though he knew he couldn’t have her.
Olivia pulled away, out of his reach. “Well, you don’t have to stand and listen to me.”
Anders ran his hand through his hair, tugging at the edges. She was right. One hundred percent completely right. He reached for her hand again, linking her fingers with his. Relief flooded him when she let him this time. “I’m sorry. Can we start this whole thing over again?”
Olivia looked over his shoulder, deliberately avoiding his gaze.
With a gentle tug, he pulled her toward him. “Liv?”
Her eyes turned to his finally. “I wasn’t prepared to see you again, that’s all. Seeing you here with someone else stung.”
Unable to resist her, he placed his hand on her neck, pulling her even closer. He could feel her warmth, could feel her breasts pressed up against his chest, and remembered the way sucking on them had caused her to clench around his cock in pleasure.
“I wasn’t prepared to see you, either, Liv. But I can’t say I hadn’t thought about us, thought about you, since Christmas.”
When she looked up at him through those dark lashes, he momentarily imagined what it would be like to take her home. For the two of them to make love and fuck over every surface in the goddamn place so she understood just what she already meant to him.
“You did?”
“Yeah. Impossible not to. You are very unforgettable, Liv.”
He doubted she was even aware of it, but she’d slid her hand inside his jacket, stroking his side. “Being with you that night changed me in a good way, Anders.”
The world seemed to slow around them. The volume quieted. In another time and place, it would be perfect. Him. Her. The connection they had.
“Tell me,” he said, huskily.
She looked down for a moment before taking a deep breath and looking at him again. “You could come home with me and I could show you.”
His erection ached for her. And the idea of a whole night with her, spending it deep inside her, teasing out orgasm after orgasm, on the back of the game he’d played, would be absolute perfection.
But he needed to focus, which seemed impossible given the woman in front of him. And he had a day of rest before travel for the next game. Fuck, he hated this.
“Liv, I can’t. I have a game on—”
“Sure. No. I get it. Busy season, right.” She stepped out of his arms. He felt the loss of her immediately.
“Let me explain.”
Olivia looked away from him. “No, I understand. Wait. What was I thinking? You should get back to your date.”
“I just met her,” Anders said by way of explanation. “I don’t even know her last name, a friend of my sister-in-law. A setup and nothing more. I don’t owe her shit. But you . . .”
“Me, what?”
He tugged at the tie the team had insisted they wear, sliding it around his neck as he muttered a curse under his breath. He wrapped an end around each hand and threw it over her shoulders, using it to pull her back to him.