Chapter 24

The next evening, Rix is already at Tristan’s by the time I head up to Hollis’s. I text three times to make sure my dad has really left for dinner. He was disappointed when I said I had too much homework to go with him, but he was understanding—especially with exams around the corner and final projects coming due. My shame bucket is getting close to overflowing, but telling him now…it’s more pressure than I can handle. Not that I’ll admit that to anyone but myself. Sure, he’s a little overprotective and sometimes he struggles with boundaries, but he’s spent his whole life putting me first, and I’m plotting and lusting after his best friend. A man who is so expressly out of bounds. I’ve heard ‘don’t date hockey players’ my entire life. It’s shitty, especially because I don’t have any intentions of stopping, or being honest. Not about this. Not yet.

I zip the hoodie over my outfit. I’m wearing black, high-waisted dress pants, a spaghetti strap camisole with lace accents, and a gauzy pale blue blouse over the top. No bra, because my lack of one really seems to set Hollis off. I’ll never get over knowing he wants me. I grab my purse and the glass baking dish, check my reflection one last time, slide my feet into my flats, and leave the apartment. My heart is racing by the time I reach the penthouse floor. I glance at my dad’s door. A pang of guilt makes my stomach churn. I take a deep breath and knock on Hollis’s door. I half expect my dad’s to swing open and catch me in the act. But Dad’s door stays closed, and Hollis opens his. My mouth goes dry. He’s wearing black dress pants, a crisp white button-down that hugs every one of his deliciously defined muscles, and the tie I gave him for his birthday last year.

“Hi,” I breathe.

“Hi, yourself. Come in.” He takes the dish, closing the door behind me. “You didn’t need to bring anything.”

“It’s dessert and a decoy in case I ran into someone on the way up. Just covering all the bases. Oh, wow.” I look around the penthouse. The lights have been dimmed and the dining table set for two. Wine chills in a bucket and candles flicker. “So you brought your A game?” My hands shake as I unzip the hoodie.

His gaze heats as it moves over me. “Something like that.”

Postie and Malone bumble over, meowing their excitement. I crouch to pet them while they wind themselves around my legs. “How are my favorite furry boys? I’m so excited to watch the game with you next week.”

They abandon me and head for the kitchen, conditioned to believe I’m here for love and treats. When I stand, Hollis is right in front of me. I don’t know what to do with my hands, or any part of me. I’m vibrating with nerves, and my vagina is all achy again.

I exhale some of my anxiety and remind myself that we share a very real mutual attraction. Hollis would not have gone to the trouble of setting up this date if he wasn’t interested in seeing where this could go.

I run my hand down his tie, wrapping the soft fabric around my hand. “You look great.”

His hand settles on my hip, gently pulling me closer. “So do you.”

I lift my chin, and he drops his head until our lips meet. The familiar zing courses through me at the gentle contact, and I sigh into the soft, unhurried kiss. It’s a dance of tongues, a promise of what’s coming.

Unfortunately, he ends it before it can escalate.

He laces our fingers and kisses my knuckles. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

I follow him to the kitchen, where two glasses of wine sit on the counter.

He passes me one. “To first dates.”

My stomach flip-flops as we clink. “To first dates.”

We sip our wine, and Hollis presses a chaste kiss to my lips.

I set my glass on the counter, worried he’ll see the tremor in my hands. I’m also ridiculously parched thanks to the nerves, and liable to chug it. I move toward the cupboards, but he holds up a hand.

“Whatever you need, let me get it for you.”

“Just some water, please.”

He fills a glass and when he passes it to me, I wrap both hands around it to hide how unsteady I am. I try to sip it but end up downing the entire thing.

Hollis takes the glass and inspects my trembling hand. His concerned gaze meets mine. “What’s wrong?”

For the first time, I truly feel the age gap. He has so much more dating experience. My classiest date has been dinner out at Earl’s, a local pub chain. I wore jeans and a nice shirt.

Hollis knows how to seduce. And take care of a woman’s needs. The front door fingerbang is proof of that. My sexual repertoire is limited to university boys. What if the dry fuck was a fluke? What if all the sex in the movie made me more appealing? What if this was all just my own fantasies and built-up teen angst?

“Princess?” He cups my cheek in his hand. “Talk to me.”

I’m on the edge of emotion. I better not cry. “I’m so nervous.”

“About what?” He leans back against the counter, posture open. “Is this too much for you?”

“No. I want this.” So badly. I’ve wanted this for so damn long, and now that I have it, I’m terrified. I wrap his tie around my fist. The fabric slips through my fingers over and over. “I just… I don’t know what I expected, but I guess…I thought we would order in dinner and then we’d—” I gesture to his bedroom. That was a whole lot of truth I didn’t mean to tell.

His thumb sweeps along the edge of my jaw, soothing and igniting. “I don’t have any expectations about what happens after dinner, Aurora. I just want time with you. That’s all.”

“Okay,” I whisper.

He parts his legs, wraps his arms around my waist, and pulls me between them. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“It’s kind of annoying that you can read me this easily.” But also, so, so nice.

He runs his palms up my back and down my arms, moving my hands so they link behind his neck. “You used to share everything with me. It goes both ways, though, doesn’t it? Tell me what else has you worried.”

I sigh and look up at the ceiling. Am I really going to admit this? “You have a lot more experience in certain areas than I do.”

“That goes without saying, Aurora. Be more specific.”

I huff, eyes on his chin, while I blurt, “You have a lot more experience with sex.”

He takes my face in his hands. “Look at me.”

My gaze lifts.

“One, we have wicked chemistry, the kind that’s pretty fucking impossible to ignore. Two, you ask for what you need from me, and I listen, and three, I know how to read you, Aurora. Frankly, I pay far more attention to you than I should. Whatever you haven’t been getting out of sex in the past is not because there’s something wrong with you. Do you understand?”

I nod. My entire body hums with pent-up sexual tension. We’re already three knuckles deep into this conversation. Might as well lay it all out for him. “It’s not your experience or your ability to make me feel good that I’m worried about. It’s my ability to please you.”

“I came in my jogging pants from a dry fuck,” he says dryly.

“But that was all friction, and you wouldn’t let me touch you after the fingerbang.” I want to stuff my words back in my mouth and swallow them.

His jaw clenches, and the hand on my hip flexes. “I wouldn’t let you touch me after the—” He clears his throat. “—fingerbang because I didn’t want to embarrass myself. Again.”

I blink at him, and he blinks back at me. It takes me a few seconds to process his admission. “You didn’t want me to touch you because you didn’t think you could…stay in control?”

“That’s a nice way of putting it.”

“Oh.” Well, that’s one hell of an ego boost.

He narrows his eyes. “Don’t make me regret being honest.”

I finger the end of his tie. Which is close to his belt buckle. “I’ll try not to.”

“You’re a real problem, you know that?”

I look up at him through my lashes. “So you keep telling me.”

“Fuck, Aurora. Why do you have to be so damn tempting all the time?” He spears his hands in my hair and claims my mouth in a searing kiss. It makes my knees weak, and heat floods my center. But it’s over as quickly as it began.

He exhales a steadying breath, which calms me. At least we’re struggling to keep ourselves in check together. “Just like you told me what you needed, I’ll tell you what I need. When we get to that point. Which isn’t now, because what I need is for you to let me make you dinner and treat you like the princess you are, at least for the next two hours, okay?”

“I’ll do my best.”

He hands me my wine and takes a hefty gulp of his own.

“Can I do anything to help with dinner?” The sooner we eat, the sooner we can get back to him telling me what else he needs.

“You can keep me company while I finish up.”

“What are we having?” It’s the first time I’ve processed how mouthwateringly delicious it smells in here.

“Fresh rolls from Best Buns Bakery, a mixed green salad with that balsamic dressing you and Rix make, pan-seared sea scallops, and fettuccine Alfredo—and whatever you brought for dessert.”

“Those are all my favorites.” Every time we go for dinner at Greystones, I order the scallops or their peppercorn fettuccine.

“I know what you love.” He kisses me softly on the cheek.

I’m at risk of melting into the floor. Dates with university guys aren’t like this. At all.

“What’s in here?” He taps the dish I brought.

“Rix and I made individual lemon meringue cheesecakes.”

“Lemon meringue is my favorite.”

I smile. “It’s like we know each other.”

He sets his cast iron frying pan on the stove and pulls the scallops out of the fridge, along with the butter. I lean against the counter, happy to watch him work.

“Are you excited to be traveling with the team again?”

“Being with my teammates is good, but sitting on the bench, watching the action and not being able to participate, is a tough headspace to manage.”

He did that last year, too. I don’t know what was worse, watching from the couch with me or from rink side. “Do you think you’ll be cleared for the playoffs?”

“I hope so. I’m healing well and mobility is good. But my physical therapist is focused on what’s down the line, and playoffs are different than the regular season.”

I nod. “They’re way more intense.”

“They are, so I need to be in peak physical condition to be valuable to my team the way I’d like. It’s one day at a time for now.”

Hollis drops a generous pat of butter into the frying pan and rolls his sleeves halfway up his forearms while it melts. This is an image I’ll never forget so long as I live.

I groan. “Seriously, Hollis, how am I supposed to survive two hours when you’re pulling out the forearm porn?”

He arches a brow. “Forearm porn is a thing?”

“Uh, yeah, it’s totally a thing.” I’ve been obsessed with Hollis’s forearms for a long time. See the STUDY MATERIALS folder on my phone for evidence.

“Interesting.” He swirls the butter in the pan, adding two crushed cloves of garlic. “How are classes? You have final projects coming up and exams.”

“Most of my final projects are presentations, which is good.” Even though it was only one semester with Hemi full-time, I’m out of practice with written exams, and my concentration lately hasn’t been the best for memorizing facts. “I learned a lot about how to create dynamic ones, trying to get the Terror front office to do or approve things.”

He smiles. “That’s great. You know, whatever you set your mind to, you can have. The stars are yours. You just need to reach out and grab them.”

“What if I’ve already picked my star? The team is my family. This is where I want to be. Working with Hemi and Tally proved that. Tally and I get each other. We’ve spent our lives next to the ice.”

“It has its perks and pitfalls, doesn’t it?”

“Everything does. My life would’ve been so different if I’d lived with my mom.” I went to three different schools for junior kindergarten. My mom tried to settle down in one place when I started senior kindergarten, but she wasn’t happy being tied to a location, so it only lasted a handful of months. It was hard as a kid to understand, but having my mom be that unhappy and stressed while trying her absolute best to make it work for me wouldn’t have ended up going well. Our relationship would have been toxic, and she would have crumbled. Now, I have someone vibrant who loves me at her best, even if sometimes I long for what other people have.

“Not a lot of stability for you with the way she moves around.”

“No. I refused to decorate my room for the first year I lived with my dad. I think he believed it was because I didn’t want to be with him. But I didn’t want to get too comfortable in case it didn’t work.”

“You weren’t used to being in one place.” Hollis flips the scallops.

I’m glad he has something else to focus on. “I wasn’t. But after the first year, I settled in and it was better, for me at least. My mom is an infinitely healthier person now. My dad put me ahead of everything and everyone.” It still took two years before I stopped keeping a packed bag in my closet.

Hollis’s gaze meets mine, and I catch a momentary flash of guilt. “You’ve always been his first priority.”

“He’s put his own needs aside because of what I went through as a kid.”

“Do you mean relationship wise?” he asks.

“Yeah. But also everything too. My parents are opposites. My dad has had two girlfriends my entire life, at least that I’ve met. One was when he was playing for Calgary. But then he was traded. That was hard on both of us. He tried to date another woman about a year after we moved to Toronto, but it didn’t work out. He’s not even forty yet. I’ve been his whole world other than hockey. It’d be great if he would date.”

“He’s said the same thing about you,” Hollis says.

I roll my eyes. “The last time I tried to go on a date, someone crashed it.”

He looks guilty, but not that guilty.

“I only went because you told me I should, and I thought this would never happen.” I motion between us.

His expression softens. “It wasn’t because I didn’t want this, Aurora.” He tucks a single finger under my chin and brushes his lips gently over mine. “I do, but it’s complicated.”

“I know.” I still worry the complications could outweigh his desire for this to work. There are real stakes for both of us.

“And I honestly believed I was doing the right thing when I suggested you go out with that kid.” His eyes darken.

“I was so pissed at you.” I sip my wine to hide my smile.

“I was a territorial asshole.”

“You absolutely were.”

“You didn’t seem to hate it,” he observes.

Jealous and possessive Hollis is hot though. “Is that you telling me to go out on another date?”

“Fuck no.” His lip curls. “What happened with James, anyway? Did he ask you out again?”

“You mean Jameson. And no. I put him in the friend zone where he belongs.”

“Good. He seemed way too into Roman that day. He should have wanted you all to himself.”

Postie hops up on the counter and headbutts my hand. He’s not supposed to be up here, but I pet his silky fur, anyway. “Half my dates end up with guys asking about my dad and his teammates. It’s fame by proxy, I guess. And I get the fascination. But it highlights how much I’m not a regular university student. I tried to be one, Hollis. I really did. I tried to date university guys and do the keg-party thing, which is a hotbed of terrible decision making.”

Hollis chuckles. “I remember those days.”

“I always ended up being the designated sober person, because one.” I hold up a finger. “I hate beer.” I raise a second finger. “And two, the last thing I wanted was to end up in some random guy’s bed with a hangover and a ton of regrets.” I’ve seen enough of my friends do it, and I’m good without that experience.

He frowns. “Did that ever happen?”

I give him a look. “Where did I spend my weekends?” I allocated one weekend a month to staying at my off-campus apartment, mostly to appease my dad, who thought it was a good life experience. I was just grateful the complex was mostly pre-med, and all most people wanted to do was study.

“At hockey games or with Roman.”

“I like being with the team. I love Hemi and Shilpa and Rix and Tally—and even Dred doesn’t get all googly eyed about hockey players. I always felt protected and cared for. Especially by you,” I admit.

He nods. “I like taking care of you.”

He spears a scallop half with a fork and lifts it, holding his palm under it to catch the dripping butter. “Would you like a taste?”

“Please.”

He slips the fork between my parted lips, and I free the scallop with my teeth, groaning as the flavors hit my tongue. “It’s perfect.”

His thumb sweeps along my bottom lip, wiping away a drip of butter. I wrap my fingers around his wrist and bite the end of his thumb, swirling my tongue around it. Last time I did this, we ended up dry fucking.

Hollis’s eyes darken, and the grin that spreads across his face is downright lascivious. He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me closer. “Careful, little girl. You’re giving me ideas about that sweet mouth of yours.”

I run my hand down his chest and bite the edge of his jaw. “Hopefully you mean your cock, Hollis, because I would love to get on my knees for you.”

He turns off the burner and moves the pan off the heat. Then he grabs me by the waist and spins me around, pressing me against the counter. He pins me with his hips, and his erection nudges my ass. I moan and arch, pushing back against him. The arm around my waist moves up until it’s barred across my chest. He bites his way up my neck. “You want to get filthy, Princess?”

“You know I do.”

He shifts, swats my ass once, twice, a third time. Not so hard it hurts, but the sting makes my clit ache and pulse. He moves back into position, grinds his cock on my ass, and pulls me away from the counter. His hand snakes between my thighs and cups me, fingers pressing against my entrance through my pants. His other hand slides over my collarbones and along the edge of my jaw. He turns my face toward him, claiming my mouth.

When he pulls back, his eyes are heavy with lust. “Can you be a good girl and behave yourself through dinner?”

“What do I get if I’m good?”

“Good girls get to come all over my fingers again.” His lips brush my cheek. “And if you’re really good, maybe even my tongue.”

The throb between my thighs intensifies. “I’ll be good. I’ll be the goodest girl ever.”

“We’ll see about that.” He releases me, unfortunately, and adjusts himself. “Can we please eat dinner without you trying to get me to fuck you every five minutes?” But I hear the laughter he’s trying to hide in his voice.

“That was more like twenty minutes, but sure.”

He gives me a look.

I smile.

He turns back to the stove.

Hollis plates our dinner and brings it to the table, pulling out my chair before he takes the spot beside me. He refreshes our wine, and I set my serviette on my lap, waiting until he’s done the same before I take a bite.

I groan my appreciation. “This is as good as the dish from Greystones.”

He smiles a real Hollis smile. It’s the smile of myths and legends. “I don’t know if I’d go that far, but I’m glad you like it.”

“Thank you for making my favorites. I know this is hard,” I say as I spin noodles onto my fork.

“Being with you is easy, Aurora. It’s all the other stuff that’s difficult.” Hollis focuses on his plate. He reaches out and tucks my hair behind my ear, fingers lingering on my skin. He looks so torn. “I don’t know what I believe anymore. But I can’t stay away from you, no matter how hard I try. I wanted time with you before I leave for the away games. It’s selfish and self-serving.”

I leave it for now. I don’t want to ruin this beautiful dinner. “I kind of love it when you’re selfish.”

He leans over and kisses me again. I curve my hand around the back of his neck, parting my lips. He indulges me for a few strokes of tongue before he settles back in his chair.

I blow out a breath. “This feels like foreplay.”

“That’s because it is.” He catches my hand and kisses the tips of my fingers. “I’d like you as worked up as possible by the time we’re through with dessert.”

Malone tries to jump onto the table, and Hollis extends his other arm to thwart him.

“Looks like my pussy isn’t the only excited one,” I mutter.

Hollis snorts a laugh. I love seeing him unguarded like this. I feel special, getting to see what no one else does. Most people only know serious Hollis, but I get these sacred pieces of him.

Dinner is the most exquisite torture, full of light touches and gentle kisses. And I get a glimpse of what it could be like to date Hollis. Under that gruff, quiet exterior, he’s devastatingly romantic, and I can only imagine how that translates in the bedroom. Will he be gentle? Commanding? Will he whisper dirty things in my ear while he fucks me sweetly? Or sweet things while he fucks me dirty? Both?

I help Hollis bring the dishes to the kitchen. His fingers brush the dip in my spine and his lips skim the edge of my jaw as he reaches around me. I feel his erection against my hip when he leans in to grab the dishcloth. There’s no way I can sit through dessert without spontaneously combusting. I grab his tie and try to pull his mouth to mine, but he tips his chin up, looking down at me with hot, knowing eyes.

His salacious smile makes everything below the waist clench. “We still have dessert.”

“Let’s save it until after.” I shift so his leg is between mine.

“Until after what, exactly?”

“Getting naked. Then my list is pretty endless.”

He tugs me closer. “I’d like to hear more about this list.”

“I’ll tell you all about it if you’ll take me to your bedroom.” I’m not above bargaining.

“Is that right?”

“I’ll even show you.”

The alarm beeps, startling us.