Page 24

Chapter twenty-four

Holt

My heart races as I stand not so patiently waiting for the elevator, Becca’s hand in mine.

It was an impulse to reach for her. But it feels natural to be holding hands with her.

Like it was meant to be. Like we are meant to be.

Which feels scary. Something I’m not letting myself worry about right now.

I’m trying to stay in the moment and enjoy whatever is happening between us.

When she told me about her disastrous date, I almost asked for the guy’s name and address so I could pay him a visit, put him in his place. But I figured the Storm and Becca wouldn’t appreciate that, so I did the only thing I could think of and asked her to dinner.

“Where are we going?” Becca asks as the elevator doors slide open and we step inside.

I push the button for the ground floor, tugging her closer to me.

What the fuck am I doing?

Is she okay with me touching her this way? She hasn’t pushed me away yet. Told me she doesn’t want me touching her. But maybe she’s waiting until later to yell at me about it.

The way Kat would have.

Except Becca is not my ex.

“What are you in the mood to eat, sweetheart?”

“I-I don’t know.” She pulls her hand from mine. “Anywhere is fine. This is just dinner, right? Two friends having dinner together.”

“Is that all you want it to be? ”

She bites down on her bottom lip, and it takes everything in me not to reach over and pull it free, or lean down and kiss her.

Again.

“We work together.”

“And? Look me in the eyes, and tell me you didn’t feel something between us when we kissed.

” I hold up a hand before she can protest. “I know I was your patient before, and I get it. But I’m not now.

So tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you really and truly don’t like me as more than a friend, and I’ll drop it. I promise.”

She stares at me silently for a minute, her mouth gaping open. “I felt it too.”

I let out a sigh of relief.

The elevator doors open, and we step out into the lobby. Once outside, I put my hand on Becca’s lower back, guide her toward my SUV, and help her in.

“I like you,” Becca says when I climb into the driver’s seat. “But I come with a lot of baggage, and I don’t want you or Hazel to get hurt because of me.”

“Oh-kay,” I say, my mind reeling, wondering why and how she thinks I could get hurt because of her. “You’re not alone in the baggage department. My ex wasn’t exactly the greatest.”

Understatement of the year.

“Can we take things slow?”

“Of course.”

She nods but doesn’t say anything else and neither do I, simply enjoying being in her company.

“How do you feel about tacos? Hunter is always raving about this taco place, but I haven’t been yet,” I say as I head toward the main road.

“I’m always up for tacos.”

“Good.”

I pull up the address and plug it into my GPS. Huh. I didn’t realize how close it was. If the food is as good as Hunter says, I’ll definitely be adding it to the rotation of places I eat at .

“Stay there,” I say when I finally find a place to park. Hopping out of the SUV, I make my way to Becca’s side so I can open the door and help her out.

I know she doesn’t really need my help, but I’ll take any excuse to touch her.

We make our way to the restaurant and join the long line, which thankfully moves quickly.

When it’s our turn, we both order tacos, chicken for me and steak for her, and I also order a side of chips with guacamole and queso for us to share.

Since the only places to sit are outside, and it’s windy and fifty degrees, we decide to take our food to go.

“Your place?” I ask Becca when we’re back in my car. “If we’re going to mine, I should run back and get Hadley food. She won’t be happy if I bring tacos home and there’s none for her.”

Becca lets out a chuckle. “Where does she think you went?”

“To run errands.”

“Oh.” I peek over at her to find her picking her thumbnail. “I didn’t mean to take you away from your plans. You can take me back to my place and get on with your night. I know your time is limited, with it being the season and all . . .”

I turn in my seat to face her. “Becca. Look at me.” She does as I ask. “I want to spend time with you. How about we go back to your place? My errands can wait.”

“I’d like that.”

“Good.” I face forward, pulling on my seatbelt, and driving us back to our apartment complex.

“Seriously, Holt? I knew hockey players had interesting rituals, but I didn’t know to what extent.” Becca giggles, wiping her hands on a napkin and crumpling up the wrapper from her last taco.

“Yes, seriously. Wes uses a fresh roll of stick tape for every single one of his sticks for every game.”

“Isn’t that wasteful? ”

I shrug. “The tape eventually gets used by one of the other guys.”

She leans forward, resting her elbows on the table. “What are your special pregame rituals?”

My heart skips a beat that she’s asking. Kat never cared. She never wanted to talk about hockey, or my friends, unless it had to do with how much I was getting paid, or how it would make her look. I give myself a mental shake. I have to stop thinking about my ex.

“I change my socks after every period.”

She giggles. “Seems ridiculous, but go on.”

“My feet get sweaty, and my socks get wet. And who wants to wear wet socks?” I shudder.

“I have a pregame playlist I always listen to. But that’s pretty normal.

Let’s see.” I tap my chin. I may be a goalie, but I don’t really have many superstitions.

“Oh, I know. I always eat a banana and two tablespoons of Jif Peanut Butter right before I leave for the arena. Has to be Jif. I even travel with my own jar because I can always find a banana, and usually peanut butter, but not always Jif.”

Becca raises her eyebrows at me, clearly trying to stifle a laugh. “Why Jif?”

“The one time I ate a generic brand, I let in four goals in the first period and got pulled.” I grimace. “Never again.”

“Fair enough. It doesn’t really make sense to me, but I can see how it would to you.”

I chuckle, enjoying this playful banter.

“It makes total sense. The guys even bought me extra jars of it, so I never run out. I have an entire shelf full of the stuff in my pantry. Every time I’m down to a jar or two, an entire box shows up at my doorstep.

I swear someone must have a subscription set up for it. ”

She huffs out a laugh. “This I have to see.”

“I’ll show you next time you’re over.” I crumple up the wrapper of my taco, gather all the garbage, and put it back into the bag.

“I’ll take that.” Becca stands up, holding her hand out.

Wordlessly, I hand her the bag and follow her into the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe as she throws the garbage out and washes her hands. She shuts off the water and turns to face me.

“Now what? ”

I stalk over to where she’s still standing by the sink, and cage her in as I reach around her to wash my own hands. “Now I wash my hands, kiss you one more time, and go home.”

“Oh,” she says, sounding disappointed.

I take half a step back so I can see her better. “Can I take you out next weekend? We have Sunday off.”

She grins up at me, putting her hands on my chest. “I’d like that.”

I haul her against me before leaning down and capturing her mouth, which is as soft as I remember, with mine.

She sinks her hands into my hair, raking her fingers along my scalp.

My eyes roll to the back of my head as I lick into her mouth, deepening the kiss.

She moans, and I swallow her sounds, filing them away for later, my cock getting hard. Much too soon she pulls away from me.

“Holt.”

“Yeah, sweetheart.”

“What was that for?”

I stare down at her. “Because I can.”

She runs her hand down my chest. “I like this side of you. Way better than grumpy Holt.”

I growl. “I wasn’t grumpy.”

She playfully smacks me on the chest, and I grab her hand, kiss her palm, then her wrist, then all the way up her arm. I don’t miss the way she shivers. A thrill runs through me that she’s as affected as I am. I haven’t had that effect on anyone since . . . well, ever.

Kat would never. She liked things a certain way. Why didn’t I see all the red flags before? When we were in high school, that was one thing; I was a kid. But when we got back together, I was an adult. There’s no excuse for me letting her back in my life. I shouldn’t have—

“Holt, where’d you go?”

Becca’s words have me blinking and focusing on her. I clear my throat, leaning down to press my forehead against hers, cradling her face in my hand.

“A place I don’t want to be.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” She puts her hand on top of mine .

I shake my head. I don’t want to taint whatever this is by talking about my ex. “Not really.”

“If you ever want to talk, I’m here.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” I give her a chaste kiss before taking a step back, needing to put distance between us before I haul her against me and do more than kiss her. “I should go. I’ll text you about Sunday.”

She nods, and I turn to walk away.

“Holt, wait, I don’t think you have my number.”

I pull my phone out of my pocket and hand it to her. She adds herself as a new contact, and I send her a quick text before giving her one more kiss, and seeing myself out of her apartment.