Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
He rests his palm against my cheek and looks at me tenderly. “I haven’t had a real one in quite a while. But you make me want…more than I’ve wanted in a long time.”
I’m still reeling from the kiss—my first in more than nine years. I didn’t think I was ready to feel anything for another man, but it was me who practically begged Pax to kiss me, and it was definitely me who was disappointed when he stopped.
Now that it’s over, though, I’m torn between wanting more and feeling guilty.
“We should get back,” I say, reaching up to smooth my hair.
“Yeah.”
There’s no mistaking the disappointment that just crossed his face. But we really do need to get back to our table, and I have to sort out my feelings over what just happened.
He takes my hand and we walk to the bar in silence. I swallow hard, still thinking about his mouth on mine. The way he pulled me close. He said he wants more, but what does that mean?
At the bar, Pax orders two beers, one for himself and one for the other guy at our table who wanted one, Cassidy’s gin and tonic, and a glass of white wine for me. I take a steadying sip on the way back to the table, and when we arrive, I set Cassidy’s drink in front of her, which I deliberately carried back myself.
She picks it up and immediately drains half the glass, not even thanking me.
Bitch.
“Did you two sneak off for some time alone?” Sophia asks playfully.
Pax looks at me and grins. “Can you blame me?”
“Not in the least. And your timing is perfect—they just started bringing around the dinner salads.”
A server wearing a crisp black apron approaches our table. “Can I get anyone a drink?”
“I’ll take a gin and tonic,” Cassidy says.
Does she drink this heavily all the time? When I look at Cassidy’s miserable expression, I actually feel sorry for her. Maybe she’s dealing with something I don’t know about. It doesn’t excuse her behavior, but it might explain the drinking.
“You aren’t driving home tonight, are you?” Pax asks her.
“So what if I am? It’s not like you care.”
“I’ll give you a ride home if you need one,” he says.
She scoffs. “I have a driver.”
The guests at the table look uncomfortable, so I make an effort to lighten the mood.
“Pax, you should tell everyone about all the off-season training you guys did to prepare for this season,” I say. “They’re hockey fans and I bet they’d like to hear about it.”
“I’d love to hear all about it,” John says. “I’m guessing it’s more rigorous than my morning Peloton ride.”
Pax smiles, puts a palm on my knee under the table and gives it a small squeeze. “We actually worked on physical training and fitness about half of the time. The rest was actually mental training and practicing mindfulness. The team hired a coach to work with us individually and as a team.”
“Really?” John looks fascinated. “You guys are gelling on the ice. Do you think that’s the reason?”
“I think it has a lot to do with it.”
He slides his palm up my thigh, stopping at the midpoint. It still makes my heart pound, though, and I wonder what we’d do if we were alone right now.
It’s all I can think about as we eat dinner. I continue making small talk, discussing my job as a CNA and the latest hockey news and headlines, but I’m still thinking about that kiss, and about the things Pax said after. By the time we’re driving back to my house a few hours later, I’ve gone back and forth about asking him to take me to his place instead.
I can’t, though. I have a lot of feelings to sort through, and I’m so tired. Pax catches me midyawn and grins.
“Thanks again for doing this, Kylie. I really appreciate it.”
“I had a good time.”
He pulls up in front of the house and parks, and as he walks around to open my door, I’m thinking about when I’ll get to see him again. Soon, I hope.
When we reach the front door, he reaches up and brushes his thumb over my jawline. He leans down to kiss me, and I put a palm on his chest, trying to memorize the firm, warm feel of him.
This kiss is soft and sweet, lasting just a couple of seconds.
“Let’s get together again soon,” he says.
I nod, my head swimming. This night wasn’t at all what I was expecting, and I still don’t know what to make of it. I do know one thing for sure, though—I want more from Pax.
Chapter Eleven
Pax
“How much do you think a person’s past affects their present?”
My question seems to stump Hector, who lowers his brows and considers my question for a few seconds.
“I think that’s a very broad question. It can affect someone’s present greatly, or not at all. Can you tell me what, specifically, you’re referring to?”