Page 20 of Expose on the Ice
The elevator dings. I stalk inside, punching the button for my floor with more force than necessary. My mind races, replaying the scenes from earlier over and over. The way she’d made me look like a fool at the restaurant, how she’d held my gaze without flinching. And then, to make matters worse, she’d spent the bus ride to the airport and the flight and the next bus ride to the hotel laughing and joking with the guys.
My fists clench at my sides as the elevator climbs.
Who the hell does she think she is?
It’s bad enough that I’d played like shit the other night, her questions and generalpresenceweighing on me and affecting my game more than any defender could.
But now she’s here.
Everywhere.
All the time.
When the doors slide open, I storm down the hallway towards the team meeting room. Coach Carson has called a quick strategy session before we call it a night, and I’m ready to blow off some steam surrounded by nobody but the guys.
But as I approach the open door, the sound of laughter spills out into the hallway. Familiar voices mix with one that doesn’t belong – Lily’s. My steps falter for a moment before I push forward, my anger surging closer to DEFCON 1 with each step.
I enter the room, and there she is, sitting on the edge of a table, surrounded by half the team. Tank is gesturing wildly, clearly in the middle of some story, while Echo and a few of the other guys listen with grins on their faces.
And Lily? She’s laughing, her head thrown back, totally at ease. Like she’s known these guys for years instead of days. Like shebelongshere at all. The sight makes my blood boil, but it also sparks a whole movie’s worth of primal thoughts in my head.
And I hate myself for it.
The way she’s perched on the edge of the table, wearing a denim skirt, one leg crossed over the other, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of toned calf, more than enough to make any man’s imagination run wild…
The way her oversized t-shirt that is French tucked into the skirt hangs off one shoulder, showing a bra strap that is crimson and lacy, and hints at curves that the t-shirt hides well, but the imagination paints just fine…
I shake my head.Get it together, Carter.
I hate how good she looks. How at ease she seems, surrounded by my teammates. How her laughter rings out, genuine and infectious. It makes something twist in my gut, a feeling I can’t quite name but don’t like one bit.
I’ve played with these guys for years, yet I’ve never been this close to them. I can’t be, not with them, or with anyone. It would shake loose the tight screws that hold my secrets in place.
“Knox!” Tank’s booming voice snaps me out of my daze. “Get your ass over here. I was just telling Lily?—”
“I don’t give a shit,” I growl, cutting him off. I stalk over to an empty chair, deliberately choosing one as far from Lily as possible.
The guys exchange glances, and a few smirks and rolled eyes, but I ignore them, focusing on pulling out my playbook. But then I hear Lily clear her throat, and despite my best efforts, my eyes are drawn to her like a magnet.
She’s shifted position, leaning forward slightly as she addresses the room. The movement causes her t-shirt to fall forward enough to reveal a hint of cleavage, and I find myself wondering if she’s done it on purpose.
Is this all part of her game?
Dressing like that?
Charming my teammates?
Getting under my skin?
Well, it’s working.
“Well,” Lily says, her voice light but with an edge I recognize all too well, “I should probably let you guys get to your meeting…”
Her green eyes lock onto mine, challenging and amused all at once. I feel my face heat up, a mix of anger and something else I don’t want to examine too closely.
“Good idea,” I bite out. “Some of us actually have work to do.”
Lily’s eyebrow arches, and for a moment, I think she might fire back. But then she just smiles, a slow, knowing curve of her lips that makes my stomach flip.