Page 7

“Well, I’m twenty-three, didn’t go to college, and also work a lot.”
She shoots me a shy smile.
The elevator stops, and my stomach flip-flops. It’s not that I’m messy. I’m not, and I have a cleaner. But I’ve never had a woman in my space, nor have I dated a woman even remotely similar to her.
Timid. Witty. Down-to-earth.
I worry my lifestyle will scare her off.
Being a pro hockey player with a political father, I’ve been around attractive women. Most have this air of entitlement I recognize immediately and despise. Not Aurora.
She clutches her small purse in front of her and follows me into the open living area.
“Wow.” Wearing a dreamy expression, she gazes out the two-story corner wall of windows, where a vibrant pink sky outshines the downtown lights. “You can see the coast from here.”
I bought this place primarily for the view. It offers an escape from the city when it all becomes too much.
But the skyline pales in comparison to those wide, innocent eyes.
I’m infatuated and try my hardest not to stare. She’s quiet and gentle, and in my chaotic world, that’s a blessing.
“Thank you. Have a seat.” I nod to the white sectional. “Can I get you something to drink?”
Call me psychic, because I know exactly what she’ll say.
Gingerly, she perches on the edge of the cushion, crossing her long legs. “Water is fine, thank you.”
Knew it.
Going to the fridge, I scan the alcohol selection before I catch myself. I can’t remember the last time I was so hyped about something that I wanted to stay sober—not since my rookie year.
“Sparkling or mineral?”
“Ooh, sparkling.”
I’ve never seen a woman excited over water. She wasn’t this excited over my eight-million-dollar penthouse. I’m not sure if that makes impressing her easier or harder.
I open the glass bottle and hand it to her.
“Do you live here alone?” she asks.
“Yep. Grant stays here often though.”
Alone is my preference. Me and alone are best friends. Even Grant gets on my nerves half the time. He’s always fucking happy.
Sitting on the large ottoman in front of her, I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees, and reach for her ankle. That same bubblegum-pink polish is on her toes.
She shifts her feet away from me. “What are you doing?”
“Taking your heels off. They can’t be comfortable. Relax, babe. I won’t hurt you.”
I unbuckle the strap, slowly pulling off her shoe to savor her soft skin against mine. I’m tempted to glide my hand up her leg, but I’m certain she’d kick me in the balls.
I set her shoes aside, contemplating hiding them. “I’m going to get changed. You want something to change into?”
Her brows furrow in confusion, and she scans me from head to toe. “I don’t think I’ll fit into your clothes.”
Laughter erupts from my chest at her genuinely puzzled expression. So fucking cute. “I’ll bring you a T-shirt and boxers. You can roll them.”