Page 35 of Enticing the Enforcer

I let out a shaky laugh. “It’s your night to celebrate and it feels like I’m the one who got the prize.”

He tugs me a little closer, lips brushing the top of my head. “Trust me, if I got to feel you come on my fingers, I’d win every game for the rest of my life.” He pulls out and I mourn the loss of the fullness, but he’s not finished. “If anyone’s ever made you feel like you weren’t the best part of their day, give me their number. I’ll fuck him up–and then find you and make you come again.”

I shiver at his words, a flush creeping across my chest, and my hands clutch at his shirt as if I can anchor myself to him. For one stolen moment, the world outside this alcove doesn’t exist. There’s only him, only me, only the pounding of my heart and the echo of what just happened.

And even though I know it’s insane, maybe even stupid, I can’t bring myself to care. Because I’ve never felt this seen. This wanted. Thisalive.

One thing I do know for sure: whatever control I thought I had in this situation is slowly slipping away.

The next day,we’re on the bus by dawn, heading for the next city. I’m sitting in my chair while Steven, my massage therapist, works wonders on my sore calves.

“Why are your muscles so tense?” he asks, running his thumb along the back of my leg.

“Because she wanted to look cute last night, she wore heels.” Madison drops into the chair across from mine, phone in hand.

“I did look cute.” Do I have regrets that those heels made me tall enough for Jefferson’s hands to reach me better? No. Will I pay for it on stage for the next week? Definitely.

“Ready for your daily dose of chaos?” Madison asks.

I flop my head back and groan. “Do I have a choice?”

“Nope. Listen to this one.” She clears her throat like a news anchor. “‘Stage Lights, Stadium Ice: Is Ingrid Falling for a Frozen Four Star?’”

I roll my eyes. “Very creative. Ten points for rhyme.”

Madison grins and scrolls. “‘Pop Princess + Hockey Hunk? Fans Think They’ve Cracked Ingrid’s Love Life.’”

“Ugh.” I press my hands on my face. “That one even sounds like bad fanfiction.”

“Oh wait, here’s my personal favorite.” She reads it slowly, savoring every word. “‘Frozen Four Favorite Scoring More Than Goals? Ingrid Fans Demand Answers.’”

“They didn’t actually write that.”

“They did. And it gets better.” She holds up the screen. “‘Backstage Pass… or Boyfriend? Rumors Tie Ingrid to Hockey Heartthrob.’”

Steve snickers under his breath. Traitor.

“Idancedwith him, Madison. That’s it.”

She smirks. “Yeah, sure. Just dancing. Totally explains this one–” She scrolls again and reads, sing-song: “‘Ingrid’s Mystery Man Revealed? Sources Link Her to Wittmore Enforcer Jefferson Parks.’”

I snatch her phone. “Give me that.”

She holds it just out of reach, cackling. “Oh no, honey. We’re not done.‘Caught Off-Ice: Ingrid Flockton Dances With Frozen Four Winner at Victory Party.’”

I bury my face in my hands. “I hate everyone.”

Madison pats my knee with mock sympathy. “Correction: you hate everyone who isn’t six-foot-four, blond, and currently headed to the NHL.”

I peek at her through my fingers, my cheeks burning. “You’re the worst.”

“And you’re trending.” Which leads her to ask the big question. “So, what’s really going on with Jefferson Parks?”

“Jefferson who?” I play dumb, like my body doesn’t light on fire just hearing his name.

“The hockey player that everyone saw you canoodling with last night.”

“I don’t even know what the word canoodling means.” I blink. “But fine. We’ve been talking. It’s no big deal.”