Normally, yes. But this is true. If you really want to get laid by that puck head, I’ll stay here and drink until there is no possibility my mind would ever work well enough to even imagine you two together.
This was exactly the shit that sucked her back in. One comment like that and Mia would be on the hook for another five years. She’d never have a life unless she got to a point where comments like that didn’t affect her.
She grabbed the front of Cole’s blazer to pull his attention back to her. “I’ll get you the girl, but you have to follow my lead, got it?” He looked like he was about to argue, so she jerked on his jacket. “Do you want the hot chick or not?”
“Sure, but I don’t see how that’s going to make things better between me and Savage.”
“Trust me on this. I’ve known these guys a lot longer than you have.” Mia slipped her hand around Cole’s forearm, pulling him into step beside her. “No matter what I do, don’t question me. Think of me as the coach. Do you question your coach?”
“No,” he said resolutely. “Never.”
“Exactly. Just trust me like you trust your coach, and you’ll end up in bed with that Baywatch babe tonight.”
Despite the anger rising in Rafe’s face as she approached with Cole, Mia pulled up the social butterfly she’d developed while working in New York’s fashion industry, along with the smile she used to dazzle, and held Rafe’s gaze.
But the closer she got, the harder it became. Their year apart had helped her forget how damn good-looking he was, how sexy he looked fresh out of the shower after a game or practice. Oh, but that wasn’t all. She’d forgotten about the crinkles at the corners of his eyes, the fullness of his lips outlined by an unshaven jaw, the intensity of those gray eyes rimmed in long, thick, black lashes.
Her throat grew tight. Her stomach balled into a fist. And for the first time, she was starting to realize she might just never get over the man.
Before she and Cole were within ten feet of the table, Baywatch’s monologue reached Mia’s ears. “…that’s just one charity I’m involved in. I’ve considered cutting back on my interior design business to take on another. I mean, we’re so fortunate, don’t you think? I love to give back. I’ve seen you doing a variety of charity work with the Rough Riders, and I’d love to talk to you about coordinating some efforts to support those organizations. Wouldn’t that be fun? And a great way to spend more time together, what with your travel and practice schedule and my work schedule…”
“Excuse me,” Mia said in her most conciliatory voice as she stopped beside the table. “I’m so very sorry to interrupt.” She turned her smile on Baywatch and offered her hand. “I’m Mia.”
“Ashlee,” she said, confused.
Mia shook the woman’s limp hand, then gestured to Cole. “This is Cole Kilbourne. If you’re a Rough Riders fan, you’ll be seeing a lot more of him. He’s the newest team member.”
Ashlee’s eyes widened, and she lifted her hand to Cole’s. “Oh my. Yes. Yes, you came from the Calgary Flames, didn’t you?”
As the two shook and Cole did what he did best—talked about himself—Mia turned, wandered behind Rafe’s chair, and pressed her hands to his shoulders. They were wide and as solid as the marble bar. His hair was too long and curling at the ends. And he smelled great, that recently showered fresh scent with an edge of spice. Just standing this close to him made Mia’s chest hurt. So many emotions whipped up and around, she didn’t know how to feel. She was having serious second thoughts about this plan.
He tilted his head back and looked up at her with those beautiful silvery-gray eyes, begging her to get him out of this situation. Mia put up her best shield to protect against the fact that this was a fantasy, pretend, a temporary spoof, not the real thing. Nor would it ever be the real thing.
She forced a smile, slid her hands over his chest, and bent until her cheek pressed his. Her belly fluttered with nerves, but her heart floated in bliss. She’d never made such a forward move—not with any man she wasn’t already involved with, and most definitely never with Rafe. Her headfirst dive into the act unnerved her far more than she’d expected. So she did the only thing she could do short of abandoning the ruse and running for the nearest exit. She forged ahead, hoping to develop enough momentum to carry her through to the end.
He was warm and rough, and Mia thought the familiar scent of sandalwood and Rafe might just make her orgasm all by themselves.
“Hey, baby,” she purred. “I’m glad you two are having such a great time. I’m just really tired. I hope you don’t mind if I start home ahead of you.”
God, he smelled like heaven, but he felt even better. With her hands stroking all the hard ridges of his abdomen, she turned her head, pressed her lips to that tender spot just beneath the ear, and an involuntary moan drifted from her throat.
His skin rippled with gooseflesh beneath her lips. The fine hair at the nape of his neck rose. His reaction to her touch set off a grenade of heat between Mia’s thighs. She pulled back enough to look into his eyes, surprised to find what looked like real heat in them.
“Don’t stay out too late,” she murmured. “You’ve been so hard to get ahold of, I swear it feels like I haven’t seen you in forever.”
One of his big, warm hands closed over hers. The heat of it tingled up her arm. Then he gave her a squeeze, and his hand slid up her forearm, her biceps, her shoulder, and he shocked her by pushing his fingers into her hair. The way he cradled her head coupled with the look in his eyes made Mia feel like everything around them had vanished. Like she and Rafe were the only two people in the restaurant. Like his feelings mirrored hers.
Only she knew that wasn’t true. Knew it for a fact. The last year had proven it.
She started to pull away, but his fingers tightened, and his gaze held hers. “It does feel that way,” he said, his voice rough and soft. “And it’s damn good to see you.”
The following moment seemed to float, extend, and expand. Mia was trying to figure out if he was just playing the part or if there was a hidden meaning behind them when Ashlee spoke.
“You—” she started. “I didn’t—”
Mia pried her gaze from Rafe’s, relieved to break free of the look that caused so much turmoil inside her. She met the other woman’s eyes and offered a smile, but she didn’t let go of Rafe. This might not be real, but it was the only time she’d even get to pretend, so she stayed there, loving the warmth of his chest, the strength of his hand in her hair, the way he held her close.
Then he blew her mind—he turned his head and pressed his lips to her throat. Mia pulled in a little breath, and all her attention hyperfocused on the feel of his mouth on her skin. Heat skittered over raised nerve endings, spread into her chest, and tightened her nipples.