Breaking The Ice - Breaking the Ice Part 18
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Breaking the Ice Part 18

I let the bar hold me upright as I took a swig from my beer. I smiled to myself as I watched her perk up from her slouched position next to me.

"Yes! In fact, I wanna buy the round a house. Wait. Yes! Shots of house for the round, baby!"

Damn. She was drunker than I thought. I pointed a finger at her half-filled glass, realizing it was nothing more than melted ice at this point. "How 'bout some water instead?"

She took another air-chomp at me and said, "My teeth keep trying to bite you. Sorry."

"Yeah, well, your mouth keeps calling me baby."

"Sorry."

"No, don't apologize. I like it."

"The biting or the baby?"

"Both."

I stared down at my beer and cleared my throat. "So, what's with your sudden predilection toward alcohol tonight? I don't think I've ever seen you this drunk before."

Well, there was that one time, but I'd been trying really hard to forget about the details of that night.

She sighed, then dropped her head onto her arms. "He contested the divorce! Can you believe that? We were all set and ready to go, but then I don't know. He said he was having second thoughts."

Shit. "Are you?"

"Noooo. Well, I'm sad to see the marriage end and all, but not sad enough to halt the proceedings. Now it's like we're starting from Square One, and it will be months before the judge signs off on it."

"If your husband can agree to go through with it this time." I started to feel sick. What if the guy decided he wanted to work things out? What if Avery did?

"He will. We had a loooong talk about it yesterday. We both know it's for the best. He just needed some closure."

She was drunk, but that was the first solid indication I'd ever gotten that told me maybe she wasn't sitting around pining for the guy. I had to know for sure. "What about you?"

"What about me what?"

"What's it going to take for you to get your closure?"

"I'm already closed, thanks."

Even though it was exactly what I wanted to hear, I wasn't entirely buying it. She seemed hesitant, like there was something she was fighting to say. "There's something you're not telling me, Ave."

She gave a pffffft to the hair across her forehead and leaned her torso against the bar, twisting a straw into knots. "Alright. Fine. I just I just hate the feeling that I failed at something, you know? I'm not used to failing. And the thing is, I was good at being married. It just I guess it just always felt like I was playing house, though, you know? I was a good homemaker, but I wasn't a good wife. We both deserved better than that."

I breathed an involuntary sigh of relief. I was half expecting her to tell me that she still loved the guy, but thank fuck that's all that was bothering her.

She looked stressed about it though. Maybe I shouldn't have been celebrating just yet.

Maybe I should've been trying to cure her hurt in the best way I knew how.

"If it makes you feel any better," I said, holding my hand over her glass. "I won't pull away if you want to try and bite me again."

She stared at me blankly for a second until my words registered and then she busted out laughing. "Did you just say 'bite me'? Well, screw you, too!"

The dimple in her cheek made a welcome appearance, and I was almost knocked out by the sight.

She'd been invading my life for months, torturing me every day with her killer legs and her topaz eyes and her gorgeous smile. I couldn't take it anymore.

Her lips settled into a tiny grin, the devilish look in her eyes shooting straight into my gut. I didn't know if it was the booze finally giving me the proper balls or what, but I knew what I had to do.

I reached an arm around her waist, slanted my hand up her spine to her neck, and gave a light squeeze. Before she could even react to that, I spun her around until her back was against the bar, my body trapping her along her front.

I was only able to catch her stunned expression for a second before my face came closer to hers, moving in for the kill. It wasn't even a kiss, just a slight brushing of my mouth against hers, our lips barely touching. It was taking all my restraint not to slam myself against her, but I wanted the decision to be hers. She had to want this. She had to come to me.

My heart was beating an unfamiliar rhythm behind my ribcage, the sweet smell of fresh air and cinnamon invading my nostrils, the taste of pure ecstasy hinting from her lips. Just the slightest give here and I could take us both away. Make her forget there was any other guy on the planet.

"Zac" she breathed out cautiously, her hands in fists against my biceps, her heavy-lidded eyes trained on my mouth, wondering and wanting.

But still, I waited. I waited for what seemed like an eternity, her enticing mouth and her delectable body just a breath away, my fingers sweeping against the smooth skin of her nape. Barely touching her when all I wanted was to bury myself inside her, feel her give what I so wanted to take.

But I waited.

C'mon, Avery. Give me a sign. Give me anything to let me know you want this too.

I felt her chest rise as she took a deep inhale, and her mouth pressed just a bit firmer to mine. When I brushed my lips back in answer, her eyes widened in acknowledgement as the smallest whimper escaped from her throat.

Fuck it. Good enough.

"Don't look so surprised," I whispered against her lips. "You knew this was inevitable."

And with that, I tightened my arms around her and pressed our mouths together.

My God.

She didn't resist. I felt the muscles of her shoulders relax, her fists unclenching to wind into the back of my hair. I kept my hand on the back of her neck, pulling her face closer to mine, opening my mouth slightly, begging to be let in.

And when her lips parted, I knew I was royally fucked.

My tongue swept inside to tangle with hers, and I heard the first gasp between us. To tell you the truth, I didn't know if it was coming from her or me. I touched and I tasted, my senses completely consumed by this woman in my arms. I thought I remembered what kissing Avery felt like, but I was wrong. This, what was happening now, was infinitely better.

I groaned into her mouth and shoved my hips against hers, my cock already on the verge of pain, my restraint overwhelmed by this vixen within my grasp. I knew I was a lost cause. I was insane over this girl. She'd broken me years ago; I was hers. I knew she was too good for me, knew I could never be enough for her. And still, I wanted her anyway.

I slid my hands down her luscious curves and wrapped them around her backside, pulling her into intimate contact with the insistent hard-on behind my jeans. I rolled myself against her, trying to make her lose it, but the added friction was almost my undoing. I was way too worked up to even think of staying in control, and I knew if I didn't get a handle on my body's reactions, this night would be over before it even began. And I had much bigger plans for us.

But when Avery pressed back, I almost lost my mind. I felt the length of her incredible body against every inch of mine. A moan stirred in the back of her throat as her hands knotted into my hair.

And that was it.

I was gone.

My tongue was buried in her sweet mouth, my cock was grinding against her shorts and oh fuck. I was going to explode.

I pulled back just enough to take a breath. "Jesus, Ave," I whispered, tightening my fist into the back of her hair, my words feathering over her lips. "Is this okay? Is it okay to want you this bad?"

She shivered against me as her heated stare met mine. There was a fire blazing in her eyes, and I wanted to show her just how hot I could really get her if she'd only let me.

She was going to let me. I could tell that she would.

I went to lower my mouth to hers again, but then I caught a hint of something else in her expression. Fear? Remorse?

A wave of guilt washed over me, and goddammit, I shouldn't have taken things this far. I was probably scaring the hell out of her by moving so fast. We had to slow down. She was drunk, for fucksakes.

And I sure as hell wanted to be more than just her rebound guy.

I released my hold on her and grabbed my beer.

She didn't even bother to try and look me in my eyes as she said, "I'm sorry, Zac."

I took a swig from my drink and shot back flatly, "It's okay. Don't worry about it."

"I don't want this to change things between us."

Too late. "It won't."

"Good," she punctuated, inspecting her nails and flipping her shoe off her toes. She averted her face and scanned her eyes around the room, those gears in her inebriated brain cranking away.

Out of nowhere, she sputtered out an idea. "You know something? We should do a Casino Night. I think we should take advantage of the fact that we have an enthusiastic new audience, strike while the iron's hot."

I knew she was attempting to bring us back to friendly banter, but I was still trying to get my hard-on under control and feeling a little cranky over our halted kiss. So, my words came out a bit pissier than I intended. "Yeah. Sounds great."

She bit her lip and swiped a hand through her hair. "Are you mad?"

"I'm not mad."

"Then why do you have that little line between your eyebrows? That's your game face."

"I'm not playing a game, here." I shot her a warning look at that. She knew damn well what I was talking about.

"What?"

I wished she would just stop pushing me for once. Why couldn't she just let things happen the way they were supposed to? Between us, with my bar Why couldn't she just let things be what they were so obviously meant to be? "It's not a game for me, okay? It's do or die. Literally. I've been living hand-to-mouth for the past four years, and what? You think I'm hanging around here as a hobby? Oh sure. I could make a successful business too if I had Daddy's money to keep me afloat while I played entrepreneur."

She looked at me as if I'd kicked her in the teeth. I may as well have. We'd been getting along so well for weeks. One little setback and I immediately turned into a defensive dickhead, springing a surprise attack. How quickly I reverted back into asshole-mode.

It's what I do.

I realized instantly how shitty my words were, and braced myself for the storm that was surely coming. The wrath I deserved.

Only it didn't come.

Her mouth was dropped open, but no sound came out of it. My shoulders slumped, the guilt of my words weighing down on me heavier than a truckload of concrete.

The dead air between us gave me the chance to jump in, hat in hand. "Oh, Jesus, Ave. I'm sorry. I don't know where the hell I get off. You've only been trying to help me out from Day One. I don't even know why I'm fighting you on this."

"I do."

Her voice was soft, those two simple words a tiny pocket of air, bubbling their way through the surface of a raging river. Yes, I was angrier than I'd let on about our broken liplock, but my outburst was due to more than just that. If she had some insight into my fucked-up rant, I'd sure as hell be open to hearing about it. "What?"

She crossed her arms over her chest-in defense?-as her eyes met mine. "You won't be disrespecting your father by making this place successful. He'd want to see you doing well." I was stunned by her words, and could only stand and gape at her as she continued, "You've been living 'hand-to-mouth' because you never tried to turn this place around. When I first came back here, I really wondered what happened to that aggressive guy who used to dominate the ice. Where did that killer spirit go? I knew it was still in you, and I'd like to think I helped bring it back out. And now you're tapping into that killer spirit to fight me instead of using it to see how far you can really go. It's like you don't even care how well things have been going, Zac."

I was expecting a rebuttal to my rant, not a helpful insight, and her words sank in. Had I subconsciously been trying to keep this place from being a success all those years? Like, if it did better under my management than my father's, that that would somehow show him up?

Maybe that was the case prior to this year, and it was an interesting thought to ponder. But I'd been overjoyed about all the new business Avery had brought in recently. I thought I'd made that obvious. Why would she think I didn't care?

My brain was in overdrive, trying to register all the events of the past minutes, and I couldn't come up with the right thing to say. Too much shit had just gone down for me to make any sense of this night. One second, she was putty in my arms. The next, she was playing psychologist with my head.

And then, suddenly, it came to me. And it was so fucking obvious, I was ashamed of myself.

I never thanked her.

Of course she would be led to believe I didn't give a shit. Of course she would come up with her cockamamie conclusion that it was some type of fear-of-success thing. Since I never offered any gratitude, she mistook it for lack of enthusiasm. I needed to fix that.

She stood in a determined stance, jutting out her stubborn chin, waiting on my response.

So, I gave her one.

"I couldn't be any happier about what you've done with this place, Ave. And I'm in this, I swear. I can't wait to see how far we can take it. I'm grateful as all hell for all your hard work." I ran a hand through my hair and met her eyes. "I should have thanked you long before now, and I'm sorry that I didn't. Thank you."

Her shoulders relaxed as she let out a sigh. "I'm enjoying the work, Zac. Truly. And it's nice to know it wasn't done in vain."

She started to move toward me, coming in for a hug. I froze as her arms wrapped around my neck as I just barely allowed my hands to rest on her back.

Too dangerous.

I should have never kissed her; it was my mistake. An exhilarating, heartbreaking mistake.

Stepping out of her grasp, I aimed my comment to the floor. "I'm also sorry about before. I won't let it happen again."

Chapter Twenty-One.

Hockey season had started again.

It used to be my favorite time of year, but over the past half-decade, all it did was serve as a reminder of my failed plans. This year, though, I didn't sink into my annual melancholy. I was excited for my Devils to kick some ass. I was glad they were coming back to the ice as champs.