Page 17

“Yes.” He looks down and brushes his knuckles over the silver bar, then continues to walk toward me, his usual stoic face void of any goddamn ounce of emotion or embarrassment. “I’d love to talk about this more, but as I mentioned, I’m walking to get my clothes. You shower, then get dressed, yes?”

What the hell kind of game is he playing flaunting his assets without any shame? And he got a nipple piercing? ! My mind is spinning so fast I can’t keep up, and I can barely form words at the sight of him in his goddamn birthday suit. “Why don’t you have a damn towel or something?!”

“When I got in the shower, I was here alone, lisichka,” he says, stepping closer.

“I didn’t think I needed to cover myself.

” He’s now inches from me, the heat from his post-shower body radiating onto my skin.

God, he smells so good; amber and citrus and…

him . I subconsciously lick my lips. Delicious.

“Can you just…just…put some clothes on? Please?” I stutter, trying not to let on how shaken I am by him standing so close.

“I’d be happy to,” he groans in a low rumble, remaining perfectly still.

Neither of us move. “Then why are you still standing here, Vladi?”

He leans over to whisper in my ear, my skin electric with how close his body is to mine. My heart races, and I feel more parched than I ever have in my life. I need a goddamn drink to quench this thirst, and it’s not water my body is aching for.

“You’re standing in front of the dresser where my clothes are. If you move, I’ll gladly put them on for you,” he growls, sending a shiver down my entire spine. “But I have a feeling you’re enjoying the view. Are you not?”

God, I want to melt into him right now. I rock on my toes, our chests nearly touching before I force myself back.

He doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want me.

Not to keep, anyway. I force the rage up into my face as I quickly shuffle away with a huff, averting my gaze while he pulls his clothes out of the dresser.

Who the hell unpacks their suitcase at a hotel?

“I am not, as you claim, enjoying the view. You can tell your ego to take it down a notch, asshole. I’ve seen the goods, and I’m not buying.”

He snorts a laugh as I hear the rustle of clothing. Fuck him and his damn hot body.

“Alright. I’m clothed. You may turn around.”

“Listen up, goalie man, let’s set a few ground rules for this week, shall we?” I spit out, my arms crossed to let him know I mean business, but also because I know my damn nipples are hard as hell from this freezing cold room and I don’t need him staring at the titsicles on my chest.

“First of all, no more nudity in this room,” I bark as he nods in agreement. “Second, my name is Maggie. Not Magdalina or whatever the hell Russian nicknames you come up with. It’s Maggie, Maggie James, or if you prefer, Maggie fucking James. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Third, I still hate you. I doubt I’ll stop hating you, but we need to get along and not cause a scene at our friends’ wedding.”

“Agreed,” he grunts.

“Fantastic. This week is about Hayes and Olivia, not our…” I gesture my hands back and forth between us, “…our drama . Finally, we need to come up with some sort of bathroom and sleep schedule so we don’t have to be on top of each other all weekend.

” His eyes light up at my words, his body invading my personal space once more.

“Dammit! I didn’t mean… Ugh! You are infuriating.

Get your mind out of the gutter. You know what I mean!

” Flustered and needing a distraction, I march over to my suitcase and rifle through it to find my toiletry bag, more than ready to finally take my own shower.

“There is no need for a schedule, Maggie. I will sleep, as you suggested earlier, on the floor. You can have the bed.”

Why does he have to be so nice? I bite the inside of my cheek, guilt washing over me at the thought of him sleeping on the cold, concrete floor. Goddammit, I’m trying to hate him!

I sigh loudly, surprising myself at not wanting to be a total bitch.

“You can’t sleep on the floor all week. It will wreck your back, and I don’t need the entire Riders team plotting my death because their goalie has back issues.

This was your room to begin with. And while I despise you, I think listening to you whine about your back would make me hate you more.

I’ll sleep on the floor. It’ll be just like the awful camping trips my mom used to take me on as a kid. ”

“Maggie.” He clears his throat. “Excuse me, Maggie fucking James? I am not letting a female sleep on the floor in my room. You will either take the bed for yourself or you will share it with me. Those are your choices.” My eyes widen as heat, desire, fear, and hurt simultaneously rage through me. “Pick one.”

Melissa Joan Heart is being a total whore right now, opening up just a bit at him offering to let me have the bed all week.

God, I hate her. Reluctantly, I open my mouth, half knowing this is a horrible idea.

“ Fine. I will call down and ask for extra pillows so I can build a wall between us. It’s a king-sized bed, so if you stay on your side, I’ll stay on mine.

No touching. No looking. Don’t even breathe in my direction. Deal?” I thrust my hand toward him.

“Deal.” He grabs my hand and tugs me close.

I suck in a sharp breath, ripping my hand from his. “Fantastic. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go take a shower and wash this airplane filth off me,” I say over my shoulder, clutching my toiletry bag.

“Wait, Maggie.”

I turn back to face him. Oh shit; he looks serious.

A smirk crawls up his cheeks. “I can’t wait to spend the week with you. It’s going to be so relaxing with all these rules.”

I flash him the snarkiest look I can manage and huff off into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me.

Fuck. I need another drink.