I rested my forehead against hers, struggling to catch my breath and praying this wasn’t the only chance I’d have to kiss her.
The boat hit a ramp, and we were slowly lifted into the lighted tunnel above as the ride came to an end.
She gasped and pulled back quickly, horror filling her eyes. “Ohmigod. Did I just force you—”
“Hell no,” I assured her. “I’ve wanted to kiss you from the second you walked into that elevator.” I ducked my head again, but she pulled back.
“You have to promise me that no one will know about this. At least not on the team.”
I would have been insulted if not for the panic in her eyes. “I’m not sure I follow.” Fuck staying quiet. My heart was pounding, demanding that I crow to the world that I was the lucky asshole who got to kiss London Foster.
“Caz will kill you. I mean it. He’ll slaughter you.” Her hands slipped to my chest, gripping the fabric of my shirt as we crested the ramp.
Okay, there was something to be said for feeling like I’d just taken advantage of her in a vulnerable state, whether or not she asked me to. I’d probably go after the guy who did that to my baby sister, too…if I had one. But if he kicked my ass, I deserved it.
“Please,” she begged softly as we approached the offloading zone, where the amusement park workers waited. “Please, Jansen. Promise me.”
“I promise.” There wasn’t anything I could deny her in that moment, my secrecy included.
She nodded and sighed in relief as our belts were unlatched, and we climbed out of the ride.
That had been the single most incredible kiss of my life. If I had to keep quiet in order to get another taste of London Foster, then I was more than willing. And if Caz found out…well, she was worth that risk, too.
6
London
“Hey, London, wait up!” Maxim called to me, and I slowed my pace, whirling around to find him hurrying out of the locker room. He had a white bundle in one hand, his pads already on beneath his Reapers’ gear.
“What are you doing?” I hurried to meet him halfway. “You’re going to take the ice in twenty!”
He glanced down at his gear then flashed me a severely cocky look that screamed obviously. “I wanted to give you this,” he said, extending the bundle toward me.
I tilted my head, wondering what in the world could be so important that he’d chase me down the hallway when he should be in the locker room prepping for the game. The arena was already packed with fans, and I’d been heading toward Langley’s office to tell her how the pre-game fan meet and greet had gone with Reaper Captain Axel—her husband.
Unrolling the fabric, I raised my brows when I saw the jersey.
A Reapers’ jersey with his name and number on it.
“They just came in,” he said.
“Thank you?” I meant it as a statement, but it sounded more like a question.
“I figured as an official Reaper you needed one,” he said, his eyes such a darker blue than Sterling’s. How could they have some similarities but be so vastly different? “One that didn’t have your brother’s name on it,” he continued.
“Thanks,” I said again. “That’s actually really sweet.”
I did have a plethora of jerseys with Caz’s name and number on it, and I tried to wear them in support as often as I could. It was nice of Maxim to notice that I might want to switch it up now that I actually worked for the team.
“Will you get a chance to watch today?” he asked.
The walkie on my hip flared to life, and I quickly answered Langley’s call. “Talking to Maxim, be right there,” I answered her inquiry as to why I was late. “Maybe,” I said to Maxim. “Have a great game.” I clipped the walkie on my side and started to turn.
“I’ll look for you,” Maxim said, flashing me a rare grin. He usually stuck to the dark and brooding giant in the corner for his moods, but after two years of him hanging around my brother, he had started to loosen up.
I flashed him a thumbs up and headed on my way, feeling slightly awkward in my own body. Maxim had slowly opened up over the years of knowing me, but nothing major. We were friendly, sure, but…I couldn’t put my finger on why the jersey and his recent attempts to seek me out made me feel twisted up inside. I shook my head as I made my way to Langley’s office, flashing Persephone a grin as I settled into the chair in front of Langley’s desk. I was overthinking things, as usual. Maxim was Caspian’s best friend—he just wanted to look out for me and go out of his way to be nice to me. Probably at Caspian’s request, too.
“What’s up with Maxim?” Langley asked, a sigh following the question. “Did he get into another brawl with Sterling?”
I quickly shook my head. “No, nothing like that.” I glanced down at the jersey folded neatly in my lap.
Langley followed my gaze, her brows raised. She glanced at Persephone, who took a seat next to me.
“The meet and greet went amazing with Axel,” I said, suddenly feeling all kinds of tense.
“I had no doubt it would,” Langley said, biting her lower lip. “That man has a way with people.”
I tried not to laugh—Axel was a hulk of a Viking who could make mortal men cower.
“So, Maxim?” Persephone nodded toward the jersey. “Are you two…” she let the sentence hang there.
I did laugh then. “Together? No!” I shook my head, another laugh stealing through me as I thought about the absurdity of it. Jansen had asked too, and I’d had to explain the same thing to him.
Heat flared in my core at the memory of Jansen’s searing kiss on that amusement park ride. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since.
“Maxim is Caspian’s best friend,” I hurried to explain. I held up the jersey in my hand. “This is just him being a friend.”
The two shared a skeptical look, and I swallowed my laughs.
It was just a friendly gesture, right? There was no way Maxim—dark and mysterious and could have any girl he wanted—was interested in me. It had never been that way whenever between us.
“Sterling, then?” Langley asked. “We’ve noticed how his mood did a one-eighty on his attitude toward promos—”
“No,” I cut her off, but my heart did a little hiccup. Memories of our kiss raced red-hot through my mind. God, I’d lost myself in him like I’d been starved for that kind of kiss. Consuming, slick, and electrifying. He’d brought my body to life in places I hadn’t known existed. With. Just. A. Kiss.
And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want more.
Because I did.
But I wasn’t about to tell my two superiors that.
“No,” I said again because they were staring at me like they couldn’t tell if I was lying to them or myself or both.
“Good,” Langley said, and Persephone nodded. “Because getting involved with players—let alone brothers—is like walking down a spiral staircase in stilettos.”
Persephone laughed, shaking her head. “It’s a hard road,” she added. “And you just started here. Plus with Sean—”
“Aren’t you two married to players?” I reminded them but smiled to show I meant no ill-will.
They both laughed, and Langley rolled her eyes. “True,” she said. “But neither of our marriages started off as legitimate.” I tilted my head, but she hurried on. “It’s a long story. Either way, those brothers are already a lit fuse. Put you in the middle…” She mimed an explosion, and if I wasn’t so shocked about their assumption that not one brother, but both liked me on that level, I might’ve laughed.
I waved her off. “It’s not like that.”
The truth.
Because yes, I’d basically become a sparkler when Jansen had claimed my mouth to distract me in that amusement park, but that’s all it was.
A distraction.
He didn’t want me—he genuinely wanted to help me. And in that moment, I’d needed an epic distraction to stop me from having a fully fleshed panic attack in the very locked and very s
uffocating ride. He’d provided that distraction, and then some.
“Look,” I said when neither of them seemed convinced. “I’m London Foster,” I said, and they both raised their brows in a where are you going with this way. “I love my brother…most of the time.” I laughed. “When he told me he’d made a deal with Asher Silas to play for the Reapers, I considered applying for a position on another team.” Langley tilted her head, so I hurried to continue. “I’ve grown up with the game. I understand it and the celebrity athlete lifestyle. I love it. Love the challenges, the long hours, the enthusiasm of the fans. But, for as long as I can remember, I’ve been Caspian Foster’s little sister.”
Persephone tipped up her chin, understanding filtering through her eyes. “And you don’t want to be known for that anymore,” she said, and I nodded.
“Like I said, I love my brother. He’s a tad over-protective, but he has his reasons.” Reasons that currently had Jansen Sterling trying everything he could to help me work through my fears. “But I want to stand on my own. Prove myself through my own merit and my own hard work. For what I bring to the team, not my brother.”
“I believe you,” Langley said, an easy grin on her face. “And I have no doubt you’ll be an asset to this team. But what does any of that have to do with Maxim and Jansen?”
“I don’t want to be known as that NHL star’s girlfriend either.”
Langley nodded, and she leaned back in her seat. She propped one red-soled heel on her desk, a canary grin on her face. “That’s smart thinking,” she said, crossing her an ankle over the other. “But best intentions and all that.” She shrugged, then glanced to Persephone.
“Yes,” Persephone said. “If anything does happen, you can come to us. We will understand.”
I smiled at the pair of them and hoped like hell it was convincing. “I appreciate that,” I said, rising from my chair. “I have to get ready for the post-game fan experience.”
“Good luck!” Langley called as I shut her office door behind me.
And I couldn’t tell if she was wishing me luck with the event or with the Zolotov/Sterling brother situation. Either way, I felt like I’d just stepped onto ice so thin, it would shatter with one wrong step.
“Where are you off to?” Caspian said around a mouthful of cinnamon-maple scone. He and Maxim had practically teleported to my apartment after I’d let Caz know I’d made a batch of his favorite treat.
Maxim was polishing off his third scone when I walked past the kitchen to grab my purse. He stood up from where he’d been leaning against the kitchen counter, the brutes eating the scones straight off the hot cookie sheet. He cocked a brow at me, and my cheeks heated from the way he surveyed my outfit.
“Out,” I said, giving both of them a shrug.
Maxim narrowed his gaze, the usual firm line of his lips pursing just slightly. “Have a hot date?” he asked, and his normal teasing tone bordered on…what? Worry? Had Caz totally ensnared him in the whole protect London at all costs moto? With the jersey and the way he was looking at me now…
Nope. Not going there. There was no way in hell Maxim freaking Zolotov was interested in me in that way. I was letting Langley and Persephone’s comments slip into my mind too much. And I hated the idea that if they were right…if he was taking an interest, then our friendship would be ruined. Because I adored him as a friend, but I had no interest in more.
“None of your business,” I said a little playfully as I thought about how Jansen and I had gone through the same discussion weeks prior.
My heart did a little hiccup at the knowledge that I’d be seeing him in less than an hour. It wasn’t a date, I knew that, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t put a bit more effort into my appearance tonight. With his kiss still searing my thoughts every second of the day, and even worse at night, I figured it couldn’t hurt to play up my features. Sleek black pencil pants that hugged my curves and a breezy white silk blouse that may have shown off more cleavage than I had in…forever. Savannah’s suggestion, and for once, I was taking it. Usually, I stuck to more casual clothing, not even a thought in my mind on gaining a man’s attention.
But Jansen?
That kiss, his smirk, the way he could get under my skin and make me laugh within the same breath? I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want him to see me.
“You have a date?” Caz met me halfway to the door, cinnamon scone crumbs trailing behind him. I sighed but ignored the mess.
“Yes,” I said, my tone pure snark.
“With who?”
“Oh, a few guys,” I said. “You wouldn’t know them. They’re all football players.”
Maxim suppressed a grunt, and I think that may have been the first time I’d ever seen him come close to laughing.
Caz, on the other hand, was not amused. “London—”
“Save it, big brother,” I cut him off, patting his chest. “You know I’m joking.” I reached for the door, rolling my eyes at the way his shoulders loosened. “They’re actually hockey players,” I called as I hurried out the door.
Caspian’s grunt of disapproval sounded through the closed door, and I couldn’t help but laugh at how easy he was to rile up. Served him right for always threatening to slaughter any guy I ever dated who didn’t live up to his expectations of who was worthy of me—which landed somewhere between being a Greek God or a sparkly vampire. An impossible hero who could protect and shelter his weak and helpless baby sister.
Quite frankly, I’d prefer a fallen angel who’d shred me apart in the most delicious way, but then again, maybe I’d been reading too much paranormal romance.
With fantasies on the brain, I headed to where Sterling had suggested we meet, my heart racing from just the knowledge that I’d see him soon. I couldn’t deny the excitement or the tiny hint of fear at whatever he had planned.
Not fear of him, of course. But fear itself. Panic. The ice-cold things that took hold of my lungs and my mind whenever I was put in a confined situation.
And right beneath all that, it was…something that quite possibly could be stronger than my fear.
Desire.
Something I never thought I’d have a remote problem with after my horribly awkward and sole sexual encounter. A cold shiver wracked my body just thinking about that ten minutes.
I shook my head, forcing the memory away, and went ahead and let that desire unfurl in the pit of my stomach. I mean, no one could really blame me, right? Jansen Sterling was delectable on his own—those crushing blue eyes that saw through all my defenses, the hard lines of his muscles, the teases of blank ink over his arm, his chest, his neck. God, even without knowing what it felt like to kiss him—who wouldn’t want him?
But I did know what it felt like—fire and sparks and a swirling craving that went beyond my rational reasoning. His kiss had been powerful enough to take the edge off what had been gearing up to be one hell of a panic attack. I’d had enough of them to know the different levels of severity—some I could handle on my own with some tried and true breathing techniques my therapist had taught me. Others, I’d need to pop one of the pills she’d prescribed me for when I could see nothing but black walls closing in around me. The meds took about twenty minutes to calm my mind enough to think through the problem, but it was a hell of a lot better than crumbling into a ball of blind panic, icy whispers in my mind that I’d never get out, never survive. That the panic and terror would never end.
I’d almost gone to that full maximum in the elevator.
But…I hadn’t.
Was that Jansen? Did he have some magical soothing effect that helped me? Or was I simply getting better at managing the fear?
I didn’t have a solid answer, even as I walked up to the movie theater where Jansen stood outside.
Damn, he looked good. Dark jeans hugged his massive, powerful legs, and a tight black t-shirt clung to his chest, leaving very little to the imagination of what lay beneath. Sure, I’d caught glimpses of him before and after practice, those times where
he’d leave the arena gym sans shirt, but I didn’t know what his skin felt like. What the muscles beneath it felt like. What his collection of tattoos created or the meaning behind them.
And I wanted to know.
Which was almost as terrifying as where he was about to take me.
“You look beautiful,” he said as I stopped before him.
My heart did that flutter thing, but I shrugged. “Well, if I’m going to go down like this, I figured I may as well look good while I do it.”
Jansen laughed, shaking his head. “Are movie theaters that hard for you?” he asked as he held the door open for me. I nodded, following him inside. He walked right past the ticket booth, giving a wave to the young kid behind it before heading down the long theater hall. “I figured with the openness of the space, it wouldn’t be as bad,” he said, holding open the theater door for me.
Ice prickled down my spine, and my chest clenched.
No windows.
Only two exits.
Hundreds of people there to witness my panic—
“Hey,” he said, cutting into my racing thoughts. He stepped into my space until all I could see or smell or feel was him. Cupping my cheeks with such gentleness, he met my gaze. “It’s empty,” he said. “I know you said you crowds weren’t an issue, but I figured this would be easier.”
I raised my brows, leaning into his delicate touch. How could someone so strong be so…tender? A warm shiver chased away the ice. “Empty?”
Jansen nodded, dropping his hands from my face. I almost whimpered at the lack of contact, but he held out his hand for me to take it.
A gesture.
My choice. He wouldn’t haul me in there if I actually didn’t want to go. Just like at the amusement park. He was here to help me, guide me, support me.
I sucked in a deep breath, resolved in the notion that half the battle with the panic was that those who witnessed it didn’t understand it. Couldn’t or wouldn’t understand it. The fact that Jansen not only knew about what happened to me that I couldn’t control but took the care and time to support me through it? It was enough to make my knees weak for an entirely different reason than what we were about to do.
Sterling: A Carolina Reapers Novel Page 7
