Page 14

Chapter 14

Declan

The kiss catches me completely off-guard, but my body reacts instinctively, my arms wrapping around her.

It’s like I’ve been starving for months without knowing it and finally have a taste of sustenance for the first time in as long as I can remember. It’s like the first desperate breath of air after coming up from underwater. It’s like coming home after years away.

I don’t have a clue how I got here or what made her decide to kiss me, but Hannah is in my arms, her lips pressed firmly against mine, and I feel alive again. I kiss her back with a hunger that’s been building since the moment I recognized her in the locker room. My tongue meets hers, exploring the inside of her perfect mouth as I use my body to guide her back against my bike, cradling her against me.

“ T’as encore meilleur go?t que dans mes souvenirs ,” I mutter, clutching her face in both hands.

She shudders in response, and I rest my hand on her throat to pull her in for an even deeper kiss than before. She arches against me, her body seeking mine as if she can’t help herself. My entire body responds, blood rushing south in response.

But then her hands fly out, pressing gently against my chest and breaking our kiss.

I back off, although it physically pains me to do it.

We stare at each other in near disbelief, breathing heavily and unable to speak. Hannah’s pupils are blown wide, darkening the green and blue of her irises, and her cheeks are flushed pink. She looks like a fucking dream.

She pushes off my bike and licks her lips, and my body lurches instinctively like it wants to chase her tongue back into her mouth with mine, but I fight it. I need to let her set the pace, even when every cell in my body is screaming to close the distance between us again.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. It was a mistake,” she says quietly without looking me in the eye, probably because she doesn’t trust herself to do it.

Her body is betraying her words again—her rapid breathing, her flushed skin, the way she can’t quite meet my gaze—but I’d be a fucking liar if I said those last four words that just left her mouth didn’t sting.

“I just needed to get it out of my system,” she whispers. “You know, break the tension that’s been building between us since you started with the Aces. Now we can go back to being just casual acquaintances. We can act like what happened between us was?—”

“Say it was nothing,” I interrupt her, and her eyes dart up to mine before she diverts them again. “I dare you.”

She doesn’t say anything, just stares at the asphalt, so I reach for her chin and gently tilt it up toward me to look her in the eye.

“You should never apologize for kissing me, hummingbird,” I murmur. “There will never be a time when I don’t want to kiss you. And as for it being a mistake? I don’t think so.”

She tries to look away from me, but I squeeze her chin gently to get her attention again, and her eyes snap to mine. “I want you to listen to me very carefully because I’m only going to say this once, and you need to hear it.”

Her eyes frantically search my face, but finally settle back on mine and she nods.

“That night at Opal and Oak? It was one of the best of my life—because of you. I’ve never been drawn to anyone the way that I am to you,” I tell her honestly. “But I think you already know that, don’t you?”

She nods again, but it’s a little hesitant, so I move my hand down to her throat again, stroking its edge softly with my thumb and resisting the powerful, almost primal urge to plant my mouth there. To taste the pulse that’s fluttering wildly beneath my fingertips.

“But seeing as you don’t have a boyfriend,” I start again, pausing to give the words more weight, “From now on, I’m going to do everything I can to convince you that I’m the right man for that job. Not him.”

There it is—everything she needs to know. No games, no pretending this is casual. I want her to know exactly where I stand.

Another moment crackles between us, so thick with tension and possibility that it’s hard to breathe. We stand staring into each other’s eyes, oblivious to the rest of the world around us, and I feel like time stops. Just like the night we spent together at Opal and Oak seemed to stretch on forever, time bends around us, pulled taut from opposite ends until there’s no end in sight on either side.

All I see is Hannah, her beautiful, full lips, the redness shining on her cheeks, and her chest rising and falling rapidly with each of the labored breaths she takes.

“I have to go,” she says, although the words seem like they’re hard to get out. Time snaps back to motion, but Hannah doesn’t move or do anything to put distance between us. Yet again, I can’t help noticing the way her body is in conflict with her words. I don’t think she really wants to go anywhere at all, she’s just scared of what’s happening between us. “I have a full day of classes tomorrow, and I have some more studying I need to do.”

“Okay,” I say, stepping back. I’d never want to stand between her and what’s important to her.

Her education matters. Her goals matter. I want to be part of her life, not an obstacle in it.

But she still lingers, her eyes on mine as if she’s trying to summon the courage to leave. I can’t tell what’s going on inside her head—fuck, I wish I could—but something is playing out on her face that I’m not sure she’s even consciously aware of.

But I am.

Finally, she steps away from my bike, giving me a wide berth like she’s expecting me to pull her into my arms again. And honestly, it’s difficult to resist the urge to do exactly that. But I can’t let her get away without making sure I’m going to see her again soon.

“Hannah,” I call to her, and she stops to look over her shoulder at me. “When is our next session?”

“Same time next week?”

I smirk at her. “I wouldn’t miss it. Good luck with the studying.”

“Thanks. See you then,” she says with a blushing smile before heading to her car.

I probably shouldn’t stare, but I can’t take my eyes off her—the confident way she moves, like a dancer, each step deliberate and graceful. I swear she could stop traffic just by walking down the street.

I wait until she gets in her car and drives away. Once she’s gone, I feel like I can breathe normally again for the first time since she followed me out of the bar. But I’m still riding high on adrenaline from the intense kiss we just shared, so I lock my stuff in the compartment under my bike’s seat and decide to go back into Sideline for a drink to clear my head. Besides, I’m not entirely sure the waitress got a tip out of the cash I left on the table.

I walk back into the bar with a million thoughts competing for attention in my head, and the waitress flags me down as soon as I step through the door. “Oh, I’m glad you’re here. I know this is awkward, but there wasn’t enough to cover your bill.”

“Shit, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to dine and ditch. But you know what? I think I’m gonna have another drink, so can you just leave the bill open and put it on there?” I ask as I pull out my wallet and hand her my credit card so she knows I’m not pulling any funny business.

The waitress takes it and smiles. “Sure. What can I get you?”

“Another whiskey sour, please.”

“Coming right up. Sit wherever you like, I’ll bring it out to you.”

“Thanks,” I tell her.

As she heads off, I scan the restaurant for a seat—then grimace when I spot Aaron sitting in the booth that Hannah and I left. He’s got a mouthful of cheeseburger with a big draft beer sweating on the table in front of him. Judging from the unfriendly look he flashes back at me, the feeling of distaste is mutual.

I have zero interest in getting into it with this guy. I’m not trying to be friends, so I sit at one of the stools built into the bar to watch the bartender make the whiskey sour I just ordered.

He slides it over to me and prints off the bill to pass it to me along with my card that the waitress brought him. “You’re all set. But if you want anything else, just let me know. I’ll open a new tab.”

“I think I’m good, but thanks,” I say and reach for the glass to take a sip.

Some people might call me crazy, but I know there’s more to what’s going on between me and Hannah than she’s been willing to admit, and the fucking amazing kiss we just had sealed it.

I don’t know what we’re going to do about the whole Coach Dunaway problem, but I also know there’s no way I’m going to be able to stop thinking about her—especially not after the way I just tasted her lips on mine. The whisper of whiskey on her tongue. The feel of her lithe, delicate body against mine as we kissed.

Fuck, she’s incredible . And I don’t even think she knows how amazing she is.

I sip my whiskey contentedly, savoring it along with the memory of what just happened and thinking about all the many ways I’d like to show her just what I think of her.

But when the glass is halfway empty, I realize I’m doing the exact opposite of what I came here to do, so I try to think about something, anything, other than Hannah. It feels impossible, like someone trying to convince me that the glass of whiskey that’s right in front of me isn’t really there.

She’s already under my skin in a way no one else has ever been.

I polish off the rest of the drink, hoping it’ll help, but it doesn’t do anything. The image of her is still there, her outline permanently etched in my mind.

Sighing, I admit defeat and pick up the check to tip and sign it with the pen the bartender left for me. I’m having a hard time reading what it says, so I hold it a little closer to my face. I was diagnosed with dyslexia when I was in middle school, so I’ve gotten used to the struggles that come with it for the most part, but it’s always worse in low lighting.

“A beer and an order of onion rings,” someone says from behind me, making my shoulders tense up. I spin on my barstool to find Aaron standing a couple feet away. He smirks smugly at me. “Having a hard time sounding out the words? I guess it’s a good thing hockey players don’t have to be very bright. Hannah really deserves someone smarter in her life.”

My jaw clenches. I’ve never been the stereotypical hothead kind of hockey player who gets into fights, on or off the ice, but right this second? I’d love nothing more than to punch this asshole right in his cocky fucking jaw to drag him off his high horse for good.

The only thing that keeps me from springing off this stool and knocking out a few of his privileged teeth is Hannah. It doesn’t sound like she thinks very highly of him anymore either, but I don’t imagine it’ll do me any favors with her if she hears I got into a sloppy bar fight with her ex-boyfriend, so I just glare at him for a while before I spin back around and sign the check.

“You know,” I say without looking at him, keeping my voice level, “the fact that you think intelligence is measured by how easily someone reads a bill tells me everything I need to know about you.”

I brush past him on my way out the door and don’t bother to look back. He’s not worth my time, and he’s definitely not worth Hannah’s either. I’m half expecting him to follow me out into the parking lot to start more shit, but he must know better because I make it to my bike without seeing another hint of him.

I kick my leg over my bike and put in the key to start the engine. But before I put on my helmet to leave, I pull out my phone and tap to start a new message to Hannah, using the speech-to-text option to dictate it.

ME: I meant what I said. Nothing that’s happened between us has been a mistake.

I press send and shove my phone back into my pocket, then rev the bike’s engine and peel away with a smile on my face.

Whatever this thing between us is, it’s something rare. Something real .

And I’m not giving up until she admits that too.