Page 111 of Breakaway Bet
I’m suddenly nervous and not real sure what to expect as he opens the gate to allow me in.
“What are you doing here?” he asks as he leans down and presses a quick kiss to my lips, which frankly surprises the hell out of me in front of this crowd gathered here.
“I saw it was fan skate day and happened to run into West, who introduced me to Melanie. I was hoping for another private lesson from my favorite instructor.”
He chuckles. “Not quite as private as last time.”
I shake my head and frown. “I believe you mentioned something about private time on a Zamboni,” I remind him.
He laughs. “Yeah, that’s definitely gonna have to wait for another day.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Damn.”
He barks out a laugh, the kind of laugh that fills my soul with happiness.
We skate around the ice, and he’s so fluid and graceful that it’s mesmerizing. This is clearly his element, and I actually love seeing him here.
“I won’t keep you too long,” I say. “You’ve got a lot of fans waiting for your time.”
He holds my hand as we skate around the rink. “The most important one is here with me right now,” he says softly.
His words make my heart clench.
It’s moments like these that are starting to add up and mean so much. Sometimes it feels like he’s getting so busy that we’re barely passing ships in the night, and the games this season haven’t even started yet.
So when I hear him say something like that, when he kisses me in front of his teammates and his fans, it makes me feel like I’m not the only one so invested but that he is too—that he feels the same way about me that I feel about him.
It makes me feel like what started as a drunken joke has transitioned into what could possibly be the most important relationship of either of our lives.
CHAPTER 37: Ivy Maddox
Party Time
Cash’s housekeeper, Carla, has put in overtime getting the house ready for Cash’s annual party, and the two of us have executed the details for him while he’s been busy at practice this week under his strict direction.
We have a small batch of prototype bottles of Nocturno to share with his teammates to start building hype, and I’m so excited to soft launch this brand tonight. We have a few different sample labels to test, so I’m using this house party as a business venture.
I stare at the six bottles in front of me, and I’m definitely leaning toward the matte black ones with the embossed deep red title font, but we’ll see what the masses say tonight.
I’ve lined the bottles up on the bar in the entry—the one Cash built with his own two hands—and I’m once again awestruck by this man.
Even more so when he saunters down the stairs in a pair of black pants, a black button-down shirt, and a black hat backward on his head. Holy hell. That’s my husband.
I’m in a deep red minidress that’s nearly black to match the vibe of the bottles, and it feels like we’re ready for an elegant party even though this is really just a casual night at home with some friends.
And by friends, I mean the entire Vegas Vengeance team and their spouses, dates, or significant others.
I’m a little nervous.
He invited all twenty-two players aside from himself on the roster, and he said usually everyone shows up. And he vetoed my ideas for food, insisting that this isn’t a fancy party but a get-together with his friends…which means we have a nacho bar, wings, sliders, and pizza instead of truffle fries, ahi tuna bites, and Wagyu meatballs. He’s got beer buckets and random liquor bottles on top of the bar, but I carved out my own space for the Nocturno, which I plan to hand out in heavy, sexy tumblers instead of the red plastic Solo cups he stacked on the bar when he got home.
“You look hot as fuck, Ive,” he says, and he slaps my ass on his way by. He stops in front of the bar where I have the six bottles lined up, and he picks one up to inspect it. “These look great.”
“Which do you like best?” I ask.
He studies the bottles.
“The differences are subtle,” I say.
