Page 8

8

ANNA

I wake to the soft buzz of my phone on the nightstand. For a blissful second, I’m warm and cozy, wrapped in the perfect cocoon of blankets, my head resting against a firm, steady shoulder. Then I remember exactly where I am—and who I’m with.

My eyes snap open, and the sight of Max sprawled beside me steals what little air is left in the room. His arm is draped over me, heavy and protective, his face relaxed and utterly unguarded in sleep. His dark lashes fan against his cheekbones, his stubble catching the soft morning light. How is it possible for someone to look this good first thing in the morning? It’s almost unfair.

The buzz comes again, and I jolt, fumbling for my phone.

Felix.

Panic grips me so hard I lose my breath.

I carefully slide out from under Max’s arm, the sudden loss of his warmth making me shiver. My mind is racing, regret pounding through me—but not for the reasons I thought it would. Last night wasn’t a mistake. Max was... amazing.

Sweet. Caring. Nothing like I imagined.

The guy I met two years ago was charming and wonderful, but that’s before I knew he was Max Walker. Max Walker, the guy people fell over. I figured when he got a woman – or let’s face it, women given his reputation – alone he’d expect her to drop to her knees and worship him. I expected him to be selfish; the kind of guy to not concern himself with whether his partner had a good time.

But my expectations were dead wrong. All the way around.

Max was the kind of guy who took the time to lace up my skates, hold my hand and catch me when I fall.

And I’m afraid I could fall.

Being with Max felt good. Too good. Like my heart grew three sizes in the space of one night, and now I don’t know what to do with it.

My phone buzzes again, pulling me back. I grab it and rush to the bathroom, closing the door softly behind me before answering. “Hey, Felix.”

“Anna? Why do you sound so weird?” His voice is sharp, suspicious. I glance at myself in the mirror—my hair is a mess, my face flushed—and cringe.

“I’m fine, you just woke me up,” I say quickly, faking a yawn.

“Are you okay? You’re always up early.”

Not when I’ve been up all night. “I’m fine, just busy on that work thing.”

Felix snorts. “Right, the Max Carter show. Is Luxx treating him like a king?”

“Something like that,” I say carefully, trying to keep my voice down.

“He’s not bothering you, is he? That guy will do anything to get under my skin. And he’ll fuck anything that smiles in his direction, so warn your friends. I don’t see the appeal, but women line up for that guy, just so he can take them down.”

Nausea rolls in my belly, and I lean a hip against the bathroom counter. “You’re not exactly celibate, Felix.” My voice is sharper than I intended, and I bite my lip.

“Anya? Why would you defend him?”

“I’m not… just, you’re all hockey players, right? It comes with the territory I guess.” I exhale, trying to shake off my discomfort. “Anyway, what’s up?”

“You tell me,” Felix says. “You haven’t answered my texts. I’ve been trying to figure out Christmas plans, but you’re impossible to pin down. Should I fly to Vienna, or are you coming here? You know we always do this together.”

Guilt twists in my chest. Since our parents died, Christmas has always been our thing—just the two of us, figuring it out together. And here I am, hiding in a hotel bathroom after spending the night with his worst enemy.

“I don’t know yet,” I say, trying to sound casual. “Work’s been crazy.”

“I imagine, but you only have to put up with that asshole for another couple of days. You’re so good at what you do—you’ll get the promotion. Just... breathe. And stay as far away from Max Walker as you can.”

I don’t know how I feel about the reminder that Max will be leaving in a couple of days. I definitely can’t say anything though – Felix lost his mind when he heard my company would be working with Max on this campaign. I deliberately steer the conversation back to him. “How are things with you?”

“Changing the subject, I see,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “Look, you’re planning on moving back to the States when your promotion comes through, right?”

I tap my fingers on the counter. “Yeah, it’s with the North American branch of the company. So, I can base myself there.” I love Vienna, and I’ll miss Austria, but with our parents gone and Felix playing in the NHL, I’d prefer to be near him, even with his busy schedule.

“So why don’t you come here for Christmas? You get more time off than I do, and I’ll have a home game pretty close to Christmas Eve. Travel then is terrible, so if it’s not a big deal…”

“I don’t mind.” I make a mental note to book my flight. “I guess I can even look for an apartment while I’m there.”

“See, that’s the mindset you need to be in – pretend you’ve already got the job.” We chat for a few more minutes and he gives me a list of his favorite chocolate and biscuits to bring from Vienna for the kids’ hockey team he coaches.

“Alright, I’ve got to get to practice. Stay away from Max Walker.”

“I’ve barely seen him.” I force a laugh, the guilt in my chest threatening to crush me. “I’ll let you know as soon as I book my ticket.”

We say our goodbyes, and I hang up, staring at my reflection. My cheeks are flushed, my hair’s a mess, and my heart... my heart feels like it’s being pulled in two directions.

When I step back into the room, the sight of Max stops me cold. He’s sitting up against the headboard, the blankets pooled around his waist, his bare chest on full display. He looks like he belongs in a magazine—broad shoulders, defined muscles, a few faint scars that only make him more ruggedly perfect. His hair is tousled, and his lips curve into a slow, lazy smile when he sees me.

“Morning,” he says, his voice rough with sleep.

My stomach does a flip, and I immediately hate myself for it. I hate how good he looks and how I want to crawl into those strong arms, despite the call I just had with my brother.

“Morning,” I mumble, avoiding his eyes.

He waves a hand at my wrinkled clothes from the night before and smirks. “You going to rock the runway look again today, or do you want something a little more comfortable?”

“I don’t have anything else,” I say, realizing that I’m going to be doing the walk of shame out of this room. Guilt and regret dig their claws a little deeper into my chest.

Max throws off the covers and swings his legs out of bed, crossing to his suitcase. My mouth goes dry at the sight of his naked body. The man honestly shouldn’t be real.

“Here,” he says, tossing me a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. “Try these. The pants have a drawstring inside.”

I catch them, the fabric soft and worn, and for some reason, the fact that he’s lending me his clothes makes my chest ache. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” he says, leaning against the dresser with an easy smile. “What’s the plan for today?”

“I don’t know,” I say quickly, pulling the t-shirt over my head. It smells like him, warm and clean, and I push that thought away. I’m getting far too comfortable with the way Max Walker looks, smells, and feels. “Depends on the weather.”

“Well, I’m up for some more ice skating,” he says, and his puppy dog grin triggers a smile of my own.

“I bet you are. And we will be at the market today, so maybe after you get in that part of the campaign, you can hit the ice.”

“You’ll be skating with me, right?” He folds his arms over his chest. “You promised to show me a good time.”

I glance at the bed as heat crawls up my face. He catches my look. “I’m happy to spend the rest of my time here in bed. The view is pretty incredible.” He wiggles his eyebrows, and I can’t help but giggle. “But if you’re forcing me outside, at least let me skate.”

My heart shouldn’t lift at the thought of spending more time with Max, especially after the call with my brother, but I feel like I’m floating as I take in his easy grin.

“My boss does want you to be happy,” I say.

His expression turns serious. “And what about you? Are you happy?”

I ignore the question and slide into his clothes. It feels normal and comfortable and so intimate to be wearing stuff that smells like him and I yank the drawstring tight, hearing Felix’s words in my head about Max’s reputation with women. Maybe he has so many one-night stands that he travels prepared, with extra clothes to hand out to all the women slinking out of his room the next morning. I swallow the sour taste in my mouth and turn to open the curtains.

“I have to head home to get fresh clothes for today,” I say, looking down at the trucks slowly spreading salt in the area.

He frowns, coming up behind me and placing his hands on my arms. “It’s still a sheet of ice out there.”

“I’ll be fine,” I say, resisting the urge to lean back into his warmth.

“Not happening,” he says, lightly squeezing me. “I’m coming with you.”

“You don’t have to?—”

He drops a kiss to my forehead. “I want to,” he cuts in, his voice gentle but unyielding. “Otherwise, I’ll be worried until you get back.”

His words hang in the air, and for a moment, I don’t know what to say. He’s infuriating, sweet, impossible, and the worst person in the world to let my guard down around.

“Max, this …” I gesture between us, “thing that happened, it’s just a fling, right?”

I hold my breath, not entirely certain about the answer I want to hear.

Max stares at me for a minute. “Is that what you think?” he asks.

I nod, firmly. “Absolutely. It was fun, don’t get me wrong, but you leave tomorrow and it’s better if forget it ever happened.” The words taste bitter in my mouth as I watch the lines around his mouth deepen.

“Forget it happened.” His voice is flat

But part of me wonders if maybe, just maybe, letting him in wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

Still, I remind myself, he’s Max Walker. And I can’t afford to forget that.