“I see a rose can bloom even in the arid desert of technology. Or, is it just the mirage of a beautiful oasis to a thirsty man?”
Kylie’s head snapped up at the sound of his voice, the funky reading glasses she wore while doing computer work slipping down her nose a bit. She blinked at the towering figure casting a shadow over her desk.
“Shredder…” his name fell from her lips in surprise.
“In the flesh. Clothed this time.” He smirked. “I hope that isn’t a glaring disappointment. Of course, if it is, I could always remove something. Maybe we could play strip trivia, and all questions have to be Riot related. Busy?”
She snatched her glasses off, knowing they made her look like the chairwoman of the Harry Potter fan club. His words about stripping rocketed through her body and she had to inhale a cleansing breath.
One, two, three. Shit. That wasn’t working. Om. Om. Om. The chanting didn’t work either.
“Uh, yeah. Work, work, work, you know,” she stammered and waved a hand. “Stuff.”
Yikes.
She was regressing again, becoming a babbling bimbo in his presence. Why did he always have this effect on her? She spoke to him with more confidence while standing naked next to him than she did fully clothed and in her element. She cleared her throat, trying to eradicate the anxious lump that had taken up residence there.
“What can I do for you, Shredder?”
He smiled, his floppy, adorable grin bringing out the dimples in his cheeks and the bulldog wrinkles in his forehead. She smiled back in helpless response.
“Well, for starters, you can make good on our agreement,” he said and waggled his eyebrows. “You women are always leading us on with your false promises.”
“Promises?”
Her heart did a flip, hope or something like it rising irrationally inside it. Even after making him expose himself in the most fundamental way and then doing a runner on him, he wasn’t deterred. He was actually interested in her! Or not. Perhaps he was only interested in making her pay for her bad behavior or just bored with his mundane off-season activities. Golf and working out.
“Yes. Promises. You said just tell you where and when. Saturday. Six o’clock. I’ll pick you up. I know the way.” He raised a finger at her, but his expression remained light, teasing. Daring her to argue. “No backing out.”
“No backing out,” she echoed, folding her hands in her lap to stem her agitation. “What should I wear?”
He smiled as though he’d just eaten something sinfully delicious. “Dress casual.”
“Okay.” She guessed she had that one coming. Kylie stared at his perfect ass encased in his True Religion jeans as he sauntered away. Then he stopped. Cold.
He pivoted and threw her a smoldering glance over his right shoulder, then turned back. “And running shoes.”
***
Dress casual. That covered a lot of territory. Kylie settled on skinny jeans and a t-shirt, a pink and white print with a V-neck and cap sleeves, her fuchsia-toned Nikes on her feet. The tight jeans accentuated her curves a little more than she normally allowed, but the stretch denim material made them comfortable. More than that, they made her feel sexy. Her legs were her best physical feature. Hours of yoga and hiking had made them lean and toned. Even though she was petite, she was proud of the taut body she’d worked so hard to attain. She waited in the entrance vestibule of her building, on the lookout for the black BMW.
When it pulled up to the curb, she bounded down the steps and landed at the passenger door just as he climbed out the driver’s side. Obviously, chivalry wasn’t dead in the eyes of Shredder Politski, but his constant attentiveness made her uncomfortable.
Or something.
“Hey,” he said. “Looks like someone’s in a hurry, as usual. Hang on a sec.” He jogged around the side of the car and opened the door for her.
“Life’s too short to waste waiting for Sir Lancelot.” She glanced around the parking lot. “And I don’t see a white horse anywhere. You could have just unlocked it,” Kylie said, throwing him a smile as she slipped into the seat. Secretly, his actions made her feel cherished. She just didn’t know how to receive his ministrations or express her gratitude. She’d never encountered anything even close in her personal life.
Hell. What personal life?
“Give a guy a chance,” Shredder said with a wink. “Lancelot’s got nothing on me. I’m bigger, stronger and I have really large hands in case of emergency.”
She didn’t miss his eyes scoping over her before he closed the door and returned to the driver’s seat.
“Where we going?” she asked.
“Nuh-uh. No clues. I want you at the same disadvantage as you had me.”
“Are you suggesting I took advantage of you, Sir…Shredsalot?”
He barked out a laugh. “I guess that’s better than Shedsalot, considering I’ve nothing to shed.” He grinned from behind the sunglasses he wore and ran a hand over his bald head. “And as for whether or not you want to take advantage of me…I certainly hope so.”
In a few minutes, they pulled into the parking lot of the Prairie Walls climbing gym. Kylie’s stomach took a lurch sideways.
“Rock climbing?” she said, her anxious energy causing her voice to tighten.
Heights were definitely not her thing, but she had to admit it served her right after naked hot yoga. Memories came flooding back. Of being held against her will over a three-story mall railing back in high school. Her life had flashed before her eyes. She inhaled to calm her pulse. More oms were going to be needed to get through this second date.
“No backing out,” he reminded her, placing his shades on the dash.
They went inside and signed the insurance waivers before meeting with their climbing guide, Joe, and several other couples taking part. Kylie eyed the bright-colored, multi-faceted walls that soared upward to the ceiling, studded with handholds of every shape and size. Long ropes dangled from the tops at intervals. Her hands felt sweaty just looking at them.
“Welcome to Couples Date Night climbing,” Joe said as they all gathered around.
Kylie shot Shredder a look. He shrugged and returned a wink.
“It’s a date, isn’t it?” he whispered. “And according to Merriam-Webster, two people doing something together constitutes a couple.”
“Great to see so many partners making some quality time for each other,” Joe continued. “Climbing is a great activity to experience together and something you can continue to do together outside of this gym. It builds trust, and as we know, that’s something that’s integral to the success of any relationship. Once you're a climber, you'll never look at a roof, a tree, or a cliff in quite the same way.”
The group rumbled with light laughter. Kylie noticed a few of them looking Shredder’s way and whispering to each other, clearly recognizing him as the Riot’s goaltender. She shook off an irrational wave of possessiveness that washed over her and focused on Joe’s words.
“I’m pretty sure getting through naked hot yoga and dangerous rock climbing bodes well for our shared trust, wouldn’t you think,” he whispered, leaning toward her so that the scent of that sinful cologne he wore tickled her nostrils.
“Yeah.”
God. Where had her feisty spirit gone? It was out to lunch again. She vowed to enjoy their second date since the likelihood of there being a third was slim to none.
“Some of you I know are certified climbers, but I see we have a number of beginners tonight as well,” Joe continued and waved to the group with a toothy grin. “If you’ve never climbed before, we’ll start with what we call Climbing 101. Those folks can gather over here, please.”
Kylie turned to Shredder, her eyes wide. He motioned her forward. “He means you.”
“You’ve done this before?” she asked, even though she already knew the answer.
Of course, it wouldn’t be revenge if he couldn’t sit back, relax, and enjoy her discomfort. All she got in return was that cheeky gr
in she’d come to love, although right now, she wanted to slap it off his smug face. She gulped and moved toward Joe and the other novices, mostly the female partners, she noticed. Joe and another instructor showed them all how to step into special harnesses that looped around each leg and belted around the waist. Panic set in as they tied the ends of the ropes hanging from the misshapen walls to large carabiners on each of their harnesses.
I’m going to kill him…if I live through this. Dead. Murdered. Six feet under in the dirt nap. I’ll even throw the ceremonial first shovel of dirt on his grave.
“Your partners will be your belayers,” Joe said. “That means they are your spotters, keeping you safe through the climb and taking up slack on the rope as you ascend. They will also control your descent when you come down, or, and this never happens,” he paused and grinned, “you lose your grip and fall.” The group again rippled with laughter, albeit with nervous giggles from the new climbers. “Falling is a good thing,” Joe went on. “You need to get comfortable with falling, and knowing that your partner is there to catch you. And since you’ve already fallen for each other, I suspect this will be an easy concept to grasp.”
Kylie glanced around at the other couples. Were any of them on a first date, or second date as it were, like she and Shredder? The trust factor had yet to be cemented.
“As long as they grasp us when we fall,” said one of the other participants.
Again the crowd laughed, keeping the mood light despite the uncomfortable apprehension building in Kylie’s chest. Joe showed them the basic techniques then signaled for the climbers to start.
When she hesitated, Shredder moved in close behind her and placed his big, strong hands on her shoulders. The heat radiating from them sent a sizzle through her upper body, pinpricks of gooseflesh rising on her arms. All she wanted to do was to lean back, into his safe embrace and let him protect her from falling.
Falling.
The way this man made her feel, that could happen. She’d have to fight it with every breath in her body.
“I’m here,” he leaned in to whisper in her ear, and she shuddered. “You’ll love it, I promise. Give it a go. You won’t fall. But if you do, I’ll be happy to tell the world that you fell for me.” He patted her arm and stepped back. “Keep your arms straight, push with those fantastic yoga legs of yours,” he added, nodding his encouragement. “I believe in you, Kylie.”
Her heart just about plummeted out of her chest. Damn. How she’d wanted to hear those words from someone who loved her. From her mother. And now she was hearing them. Thankful he remained behind her so he couldn’t see her blink several times to chase the melancholy mist from her eyes. She’d need all her faculties about her for the task at hand.
Shredder stood tall behind her, a veritable wall of muscle. He oozed solidity and trust, like they were the very building blocks of his being. No wonder his team depended on him between the pipes. Just like Cole, she wanted to protect him from too many shots being fired at his head. She didn’t want to disappoint him.
She stepped to the wall, the rope snaking from the clip at her belt up the intimidating vertical surface in front of her. She watched the other ladies eagerly mounting the toe-holds and reaching high for the next place to grip, arms out straight just like they’d been shown and pushing up with their quads. She inhaled and let the air out again. If there’s one thing she had, it was quads. She grabbed hold of the oddly shaped knobs and began to climb.
The first few holds were easy enough, as she copied the other climber’s motions on either side of her. Step, reach, push – step, reach, push – keeping the arms straight and gripping with the fingertips. Let the legs do the work, keep your hips, and therefore your center of gravity, close to the wall. About two-thirds of the way up, the holds became smaller and spaced at more inconvenient positions. She paused to think about each move, gradually tiring out her muscles in the process. She could feel them beginning to shudder, weakening, and threatening to fail the longer she remained still. She kept her eyes skyward, focusing on the top of the rope that beckoned from its anchor point, daring her to reach it. She felt scared, elated and determined all at the same time.
“Doing great, Kylie Rose,” she heard Shredder’s voice from below. “Almost there; but if you want to come down, just give the word. I’m here for you.” His words had a double effect. She wanted to quit and show mercy to her trembling limbs but also wanted to impress him by making it to the top. She breathed heavily, scouted out the next handhold, and made her choice.
Pushing hard with her left leg, the little acrylic knob shaped like a barnacle was only inches from her fingertips when she felt the toe of her shoe start to slip. She screamed as her leg shot off the end of her tiny ledge of foot-hold and her hands lost contact with the wall. The horrible sensation of an unplanned free-fall clutched her stomach as gravity took over. Tiny dots of fear induced light flashed before her pupils as the blood drained from her limbs and pooled in her torso. The bright colored wall became a blur in her vision, terror exploding in her brain. In a split second, she felt the tension on the rope tighten, and her descent slow into a springy suspension, lowering her gently to earth like a spider on its web.
He saved me.
He saved me.
She touched the ground and stumbled backward, falling into strong arms that encircled her like a human life preserver. When she came to rest, a pair of giant hands ended up right over her boobs. Too stunned to be embarrassed, she panted in both exhilaration and relief. The scent of his cologne wafted over her again as she rested in his awkward embrace, triggering the memory of being wrapped in the safety of his car. Now her safety net was purely him, his muscles, his strength. In another second, awareness of the pressure on her breasts trickled through. Her nipples tingled annoyingly to attention beneath his fingers despite the thickness of her sports bra.
“Great save, Shredder…you’ve got my vote for the Vezina Trophy. But you can let go, now.”
His hands shifted quickly to her armpits as he set her upright.
“I don’t think so,” he said, his voice soft and low, carrying just a trace of arrogant amusement. “I never give up a rebound until the whistle blows.”
Chapter Ten
“Alright, pizza or beer? Or both? You’ve earned it, and I owe you a rain check on a drink in any case,” Shredder said as he ushered her once again into his sleek Beamer. “That was a fantastic first climb. I was really proud of you. I love a woman who strives to reach the peak.”
The sexual innuendo might be the death of her. Or a rebirth. Of her underutilized lady parts.
Under normal circumstances, she thrived on intimation, but after almost losing her shit over her death-defying leap from the climbing wall, she just wanted to disappear into the comfort of the leather seat. Or his strong arms. And then, he’d gone and said he was proud of her. Proud of her? Kylie couldn’t remember the last time those words were spoken to her. Not even by Eloise, although she knew El loved her work and trusted her implicitly. At the same time, the reward of pizza and beer didn’t seem like appropriate accolades for what she’d just accomplished. Especially when the giver of said rewards had much more than a beer budget; she saw the payroll.
“Thanks. But as I recall you were a bit unsteady with beer,” she said as she settled in the passenger seat and Shredder climbed behind the wheel.
“You’re right. Wine will go better with pizza,” he said, starting the engine.
Kylie sighed. Her hint hadn’t quite garnered the desired result. Mind you, neither of them were dressed for a fancy dinner out. And Kylie wasn’t much of a fancy girl when she got right down to it.
“You have a favorite pizza joint?” she asked, scanning the length of his massive body behind the leather-wrapped steering wheel. Of course he had a favorite pizza joint. “Do they serve wings too?”
“Yes and yes. Too bad Casa Fiorino isn’t open for business yet. I heard Mama Fiorino has some killer recipes. And my roomie would be willing to o
verlook our ragtag attire.”
The subject hit a bit of a sore spot with Kylie, knowing it came bundled with Eloise’s departure from the team, but she agreed with the sentiment. “True. So what’s your next choice?”
Shredder smiled and tilted his glance toward her as he maneuvered out of the parking lot. “Well, it so happens there is another destination for great pizza, owned by a guy who also has some killer recipes.”
Kylie waited for his revelation, but Shredder said no more. “And that is?” she prompted.
“How about Casa Politski?” he said tentatively. “I hope you don’t think I’m jumping the gun, but I took the liberty of making a batch of dough earlier today. And I think you’ll like my small but selective wine cellar.”
Hmm…only the second date and he was making the come back to my place plea? Kylie hoped he wouldn’t ruin everything by putting the moves on her. In spite of naked yoga and rock climbing, it was too soon. She wasn’t that kind of girl.
“You’re offering to cook for me?”
“Yes,” he replied with a definitive nod. “What could be a more personal tribute than to offer you food with a recipe from my heart and made by my own hands?”
“I don’t know,” she answered. “But with hands like yours, I’m sure they’ll catch the pie crust as you flip it in the air. That I gotta see.”
He laughed. “I make a mean capicola and artichoke. Also an Italian sausage with sundried tomatoes and pesto.” He stole a sidelong glance at her as he drove. “Oh shoot, you’re not a vegetarian, are you? I forgot to ask.”
Kylie pursed her lips, enjoying the knowledge of just how much he’d planned ahead for this evening, and his excited rant that had come to a screeching halt at a potential faux pas. “No, I’m Jewish,” she replied, waiting for a reaction. “No ham, no sausage with pork meat in it.”
The Crease: A Rochester Riot Sports Romance Page 8
