She loved him.
Up and down, she undulated her hips, grinding against him on each downward stroke. Hard and fast, bordering on desperate, their bodies crashed together until she tossed her head back and came, groaning his name. He grasped her hips hard, moving her against him until he thrust upward one last time and came.
She collapsed against him, wrapping her arms around him as they sat in the chair, both breathing hard. Her clothes littered the floor from the front door to the table. His jeans were still on, just shoved all the way down to his ankles. The mail she’d brought in this morning and left on the table was scattered across the kitchen. Marv swam quick circles around his bowl on the counter, obviously in betta fish attack mode by the disturbance.
Ian Petrov had thrown her well-ordered life into chaos. Normally she’d hate that, but with him? It felt right. It felt perfect.
And that’s what made her whole body clench. She’d fallen for the guy who thought of her as a fuck buddy. Sure, they got along and had fun hanging out, but they weren’t dating—they hadn’t even gone out on a date! This should just be pheromones in action, sexual attraction getting the best of them, having a good time. Instead, her heart had gotten involved—but not his.
How in the hell had she let this happen?
She got up and started gathering her clothes, the realization making her hands shaky and her breath quick. “I can’t do this, Ian.”
She thought she could. She had before. But with him, it was different. It mattered more—she should have realized it that night in the cabin in front of the fire. Whatever was between them, it wasn’t one-night-stand material—at least not for her.
“Can’t do what?” he asked as he dropped the condom in her trash and pulled up his pants.
She waved her hand between them. “This.”
He stopped cold in the middle of her kitchen, and she watched as he transformed right before her eyes from the Ian she knew to the one who had faced off against the reporters. “I thought you were having fun.”
Fun. That’s all it was for him, and she knew this. They’d been up front from the beginning.
“It was amazing. You’re amazing.” But there was no way she could guard her heart against him. Really, it was too late for that. “I just can’t.”
He looked down at the tile floor and rubbed the back of his neck, the muscles in his jaw flexing. Tension flowed off him as he took a long, slow breath but when he lifted his head, there wasn’t a single solitary expression on his totally neutral face.
Finally, he spoke, his voice low and gravelly. “I guess I’ll go, then.”
Her whole body ached as she stood there naked in her kitchen, her clothes pressed to her middle like a shield, as he put on his shirt and started toward the door. Biting the inside of her cheek to stop from crying, she inhaled a deep breath.
It had to be done. It would be worse the longer she let this go on. She knew all of that. It still hurt like she’d been dropped from the top of the Ice Knights arena.
He was halfway out the door before she got herself under control enough to talk. “I’m sorry.”
He looked back at her, his jaw squared, his eyes focused on a spot over her left shoulder—but there was something in his eyes, a flash fight that gave her hope. She was walking toward him before she even realized it. Then it was gone and so was he, out the door, shutting it softly behind him.
And that’s when the tears finally started to fall.
Chapter Seventeen
Putting on makeup before the team’s annual skate with Harbor City’s junior hockey athletes at Center Park rink had taken some extra time. Staying up half the night staring at the ceiling had given Shelby enough bags under her eyes for a two-week vacation. But when the emergency call had come in this morning that three of the staff scheduled to work the event had called in sick, of course she said yes, she’d help out.
Now she was standing in front of the rink door with Lucy, who was giving Shelby the rundown on her bouncer duties. It was chaotic, overwhelming, and the perfect activity for a day when she couldn’t afford to let herself think about Ian and what could have been.
“Take this.” Lucy handed her a clipboard with the guest list on it. “And this.”
Shelby glanced down at the plastic squirt bottle Lucy held out. Okay, the guest list she got. This was a special event for the Ice Knights with a chance to meet and skate with all the grade-school-age skaters who played in the mini-mite games between periods to entertain the crowd. But a squirt bottle? That she had no idea about.
Shelby took the bottle. “What’s this for?”
“The park has a feral-cat problem, and for some reason they love the rink,” Lucy said, scanning the crowd of reporters and photographers outside the arena like a general taking stock of opposing forces. “The last thing we need is for one of them to get in here, get freaked out by all the kids, and then take a swipe at little Mikey or Jenny.”
“What’s in it?”
“Just water, but it does the trick.” She took a closer look at Shelby. “You doing okay?”
So much for her fine makeup skills. Who ever knew when to use the green cover-up or the peach cover-up or the dark brown?
“I’m amazing,” Shelby said, putting enough fake cheer in her tone to be a Christmas commercial. “Totally excited to
