Olivia held her ground and Anders tugged tighter, wrapping the length of the tie around one hand then the other until she was flush against him.
“I can’t do this now. I can’t play my best on the ice if I am distracted off it.”
“But you’d go home with her?” Olivia asked, lines etching her forehead.
He hated that he felt the need to explain his baser instincts. “Sex is not a relationship, Liv. And you are so much more than a one-night stand.”
She pushed against him, but with the tie holding her arms by her sides, it was ineffective. “Apparently, I’m not. Because that is all we had. Good to know, Anders.”
Goddamn, the woman. He didn’t know how to make it clear. “You are so far from the truth, Liv. That night was way more than meaningless sex. We connected and you know it. That’s why it’s been impossible to stop thinking about you. You don’t want to know how many times I’ve sought release to images of you in that fucking bed that wasn’t even mine. But I can’t waste energy off the ice that I should be expending on it right now. This is my shot, Liv. This is the time in my career I dreamed about. But believe me, if I could be with anyone, it would be you.”
He slammed his lips to her mouth, his tongue seeking hers. He let go of his tie and threaded his fingers through her hair, holding him to her, seeking more than he had any right to ask for. More than he had any right to take.
She tasted as good as he remembered. The soft gasp of hers turned him on.
Then she placed both hands on his chest and shoved him hard. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to tell me I’m not good enough to sleep with, and then kiss me like I am. It’s not fair.”
Anders dragged his hand through his hair. “För helvete,” he cursed. “Det är inte vad jag sa.”
“I have no idea what that means, but I’m leaving now.”
Shit.
“I said that’s . . .damn, I don’t think fast in English. I said it’s not . . .what I’m thinking. Meaning. Liv. You don’t get it. If I had the capacity for a relationship . . .or even the skills for one . . .I’d be testing them with you. But I don’t. I can’t. It’s not fair to you or me.”
“Iceberg!” Two young men walked over, the first reached for Anders’s hand and shook it. “Wow. Great game, tonight. Can I get a photo with you?”
“I’m in the middle of something,” he said, gesturing toward Olivia. He could see her take a step back. Then another.
“It’ll only take a minute.” The guy stood at his side and held out his phone.
“Liv, wait.” He held out his hand toward her, encouraging her to stay where she was.
“Say, cheese.”
Anders looked at the camera, knowing full well he wasn’t smiling. But he’d just arrived in the city. The last thing he needed were rumors floating around that he was a jerk if you met him in person. “Thanks, guys,” he said, shaking their hands before he turned to find Olivia.
She’d disappeared. Disappointment flooded him.
Why? You know you can’t have her.
She was right, it was unfair.
And while he could curse the men for interrupting them, it was for the best.
He just had to convince the gnawing doubt deep in his chest that it was true.
4
“Thanks for staying late with me,” Connor said, packing up his things. “I think you’ve made incredible progress with the Dyer’s Vintage campaign.”
Connor’s warm words of praise filled her. After all, the man had an MBA from Harvard and a successful career as an executive in the liquor industry. While he was only six years older than she was, he had a wealth of experience, and she was enjoying learning from him. Since their father’s death, beyond the obvious sense of loss of a parent, she’d also lost a mentor and coach. Coming back into the business, she was looking to have impact, but also boost her skills.
Plus, Connor made her sister so darn happy, which made Olivia like him even more. So, when he’d asked if she’d bring him up to speed on where the campaign was at, she’d been more than happy to stay late to fill him in.
She stretched her arms toward the ceiling as she let out a yawn. Staying up the last few nights to get the project to where it needed to be had left her low on energy. “I’m glad you like it. Do you think it will help build the distribution channels?”
“I’m hopeful. And it’s good for me to know where products are growing and evolving. Thanks for filling me in. Emerson’s cooking dinner. Want to swing by and join us?”
While she loved the idea of the two of them as a couple, watching them be a couple did little to help balance her moods. And, boy, were those moods polarizing. Envy at what Connor and Emerson had found—a love that was vibrant and rounder and more vital than anything else. Fear that no man, certainly right now, would take on the work-in-progress she had become as she stumbled out of the period of depression that had enveloped her. Relief that she didn’t have to put energy she didn’t have and couldn’t spare into a fledgling relationship.
Anders.
Damn.
She couldn’t think about Valentine’s Day. Over the last forty-eight hours, she had to remind herself to not focus on how good he’d looked, or how the feel of his hands on her body again had lit a fire deep inside her. And she most definitely wouldn’t consider his little speech about how she was more than he could deal with.
She was fed up with being more than everyone had to deal with.
“Liv. Dinner? Do you want to come over?”
Olivia shook her head to clear her thoughts and to refuse. “Thanks, but I’m going to reheat leftovers and then bed.” She was certain there was a portion of the turkey chili she’d made at the weekend left in the fridge. Somewhere.
“Not happening,” Connor said. “I’ll call Charles and get you something to go. My treat. Pick it up on your way. You like the black cod, right?”
“I’ve never been happier that my hopefully-soon-to-be-brother-in-law owns a restaurant. If it’s not too much trouble, I would love that. I didn’t know Charles did takeout.”
Connor laughed. “I’m going to ignore the blatant hint that I should propose. He doesn’t, but seeing as he kicked my ass in poker last week, I think he owes me one.”
Twenty minutes later, she pushed the doors to the restaurant open. The scent of ginger and the sound of sizzling skillets greeted her, and her mouth immediately began to water.
“Do you have a reservation?” the greeter asked politely.
“I don’t. I’m just picking something up to go. It’s Olivia. Connor Finch called it in.”
“One moment and I’ll go check for you.”
Olivia looked down at her phone. Nearly nine o’clock. She could be finished with dinner and in bed before ten.
“Hey, Liv. I didn’t know you ate here. How are you?” Sarah, Anders’s sister-in-law, looked flawless in a tastefully fitted black dress.
Olivia wondered how she maintained such perfectly glowing skin. “Sarah,” she said, hugging her warmly. “It’s my sister’s partner’s place, I’m just waiting to pick up my dinner. Did you like the write-up in Simply Weddings?”