When Aria Monroe lands her dream job as the new photographer for Los Angeles's professional hockey team, the last thing she expects is to work with the cocky, arrogant center Connor Holden who rocked her world five years ago during a one-night stand...
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Whenever I sleep, I'm normally like a bear in hibernation. It's almost impossible to wake me up, and more often than not, I'm sleeping through all of my alarm clocks. However, this morning my eyes shoot open as soon as I hear the faintest shuffling around my bedroom.
My body has been on alert throughout the night. Aria and I didn't get much sleep from how many rounds I put her through. During all of them, I took her from behind, sticking to her rules that there be no emotions involved, which is simply ridiculous. Clearly, we care about each other, but Aria is petrified to take the risk, and I need to figure out why.
I pretend as if I'm still asleep, popping one eye open to watch her grab her things from the floor. She shimmies into her jeans, seeming deep in thought before she scans the ground for her sweater.
I've never been a dick to women who have slept with me. They knew love wasn't on the table, and I always paid for a car to take them home afterward, but being able to put myself in their shoes for the first time makes me feel like the biggest asshole alive.
I wouldn't wish this pain on my worst enemy. I did this to myself, agreeing to this knowing Aria didn't want anything serious, but it doesn't stop the utter disappointment from rolling over me like a tidal wave.
Last night, my heart was craving a closeness it never had before. I wanted to pull her into my arms after her seventh orgasm of the night and hold her close. I wanted to feel her skin on mine, but she kept to the other side of the bed, creating an ocean of distance between us.
What is she hiding?
What happened to cause that scar?
She mentioned her sister passed away, but other than that, I'm grasping at straws here. I don't know how to make her see things differently. I'm nowhere close to giving up, but a small part of me hoped last night would change her mind about us.
I guess I was wrong.
"It's in the hallway," I say groggily, propping myself up on an elbow. I'm still naked, the sheet covering only the lower half of me.
Aria whirls around and covers her breasts with her hands as if they didn't spend half the night in my hands, a slight blush creeping into her cheeks. "I'm sorry," she whispers. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"Were you planning on telling me you were leaving, or were you going to do a repeat of five years ago and leave me without a trace of you?"
"Connor—"
I sit up in the bed, bunching the sheet around my hips. "Doing it once to me was bad enough, but doing it again? I deserve better than that, Aria. You can't run this time. We work together." The sheer panic racing its way through my veins is enough to bring me to my knees. I'm grateful I'm sitting in the bed.
"Connor." Aria huffs in frustration, jerking her head to my bedroom door. "I was going to pick up breakfast. You know, to pay you back for when you bought that coffee for me in Arizona."
