turned around and walked away, leaving me embarrassed that I had believed there was anything more behind the kiss. I started to sit back, but Evan kept his hand firmly on my waist and when my eyes met his, it took but a moment before his lips were back on mine.
THE EX-DYNAMIC
* * *
S.M. SOTO
ONE
ONE MORE STEP would mean certain death. I knew coming here was a mistake, but the way Reeve Bennett is glaring daggers through me is far more hatred than I expected to run into when I took this job here.
See, I grew up with two of the NHL’s most famous athletes. One plays for the Chicago Blackhawks and the other plays for the Pittsburgh Penguins. One just so happens to be my brother, and the other, well, that was the problem. I didn’t know what Reeve and I were anymore, other than enemies. He avoided me at all costs, and I cursed his name at every turn. It was just how we worked.
Call it the ex-dynamic, if you will.
I knew coming here would be equivalent to me stepping on his toes. This is my first official job as a professional sports medicine massage therapist, and I took the job that granted me the best benefits. It was also the only team available. I wanted to work with my brother’s team, on the Penguins, but they didn’t need a massage therapist. Reeve’s team did.
My brother, Crew, was the one who talked me into it. After applying to teams and not hearing back for months at a time, I’d almost given up. Until the Blackhawks. They were in a pickle because they needed someone for the start of their new season. I had planned on saying no because I knew who their star player was, and I just knew this would not go over well. But of course, I listened to my idiot brother. Crew made it clear that Reeve was over me, over everything in our past.
He was obviously wrong.
As the head coach introduces me to the team, Reeve glares at me like I’ve smeared shit on his favorite shoes.
So, yeah. One more step for me equates to certain death.
But that was what love did to people, wasn’t it?
It was the death of all things good. In my eyes, at least.
“Camila will be here with us for the long haul, and I expect you all to treat her with the utmost respect. This is a big year for us. If you so much as feel a goddamn Charlie horse coming on, you give Camila a call. We were robbed of our trophy last year, and that won’t happen again.”
After the head coach finishes his inspiring speech about winning this year’s Stanley Cup, most of the teammates head back into the locker rooms after their successful practice. A few others linger, shaking hands and welcoming me aboard. Through the entire ordeal, I can feel his gaze incinerating me, damn-near flaying my skin off. Curling my hands into fists, I feel my hackles rise as I wait to hear what kind of bullshit he’s going to spew at me.
From the second I walked into the Blackhawk’s practice stadium, my eyes gravitated toward Reeve Bennett. That was just the effect he had on people. He made you want to look at him. Standing at a whopping six feet four, Reeve was all broad shoulders, corded muscles, and steel. His eyes were ice, but his voice was like melted butter, gliding through you. With shaggy brown curls and the beard to end all beards, he was the perfect combination of rugged and frighteningly gorgeous.
He dominated out there on the ice, even during practice. He had a gaggle of puck bunnies who were at every game, home or away, and he was every woman’s wet dream. He was also my cheating ex-boyfriend. But that was neither here nor there. We all made mistakes, and I guess we were just kids, so I couldn’t really hold a grudge.
That was the excuse I gave everyone else.
The truth? I did hold a grudge. I wanted to be here about as much as he wanted me to be here. But it was a job, and I wasn’t going to let some asshole who’d already ruined my life once dictate what I could and couldn’t do with my future.
I’m just wrapping my scarf around my neck to ward off the bone-deep chill in Chicago when I hear someone clear their throat behind me. I know who it