I’d missed about the Reapers was the housing development just outside Charleston that the team owned. Most of the players lived there, contributing to the family atmosphere that I hadn’t found in Maine. “Unfortunately, there were a couple of last-minute trades, and whoever signed his contract right before me got my old house.”
Persephone’s face fell. “Oh. Well, that’s okay. You’re still on the street, right?”
I nodded. “Right next door, actually. And yes, I’d love to come over for dinner.” My phone buzzed in my back pocket, and I quickly turned off the alarm. “That’s my five-minute warning. I’ll catch you guys out there.” I said my goodbyes and strode for the elevator. Asher Silas—the owner of the Reapers—had infinite patience for his players with the exception to a few small pet peeves. Being late was one of them.
I stepped into the elevator and hit the fifth floor. Silas’s office was at the highest level of the arena, far above the coaches and admin. Even the escalators that carried fans up to their seats couldn’t reach his domain.
“Hold the elevator, please!” Just as the elevator doors were closing, a slender hand reached through.
I stabbed the door open button and retreated to the back of the small space to make room for the woman who hurried in, her face hidden behind a veil of black hair. “Thank you,” she said quickly, turning to the panel, but halting her finger just above the fifth floor. “Oh, you’re going up, too, I see.” Her shoulders rose and fell quickly, and her posture was ramrod straight.
“Sure am.” I leaned back against the furthest wall and crossed one ankle over the other as the doors shut. A light, acoustic version of Tonight by Smashing Pumpkins drifted through the speakers as the doors closed and we began our ascent.
The markers above the door lit up with each floor we passed, and I kept my eyes glued to the little illuminated numbers and off the figure of the woman just ahead of me. Not that I hadn’t immediately noticed a delicately curved waist that led to an incredible pair of hips under a navy blue sheath-style dress, but I liked to think that noticing was above staring.
She adjusted the file folders in her arms, and I was noticing again as we passed the third floor. I tried to drag my attention back to the numbers, but those hips led to an ass that made my mouth water, and then mile-long legs that ended in the sexiest high heels I’d ever seen. The blue pumps—at least that’s what I thought they were called—had red soles and must have given her petite frame a five-inch boost.
How the fuck did women walk in those things?
The file she’d braced on her hip slipped, sending papers fluttering to the floor as the number four lit up, and I immediately dropped down to help her.
“Oh, that’s not necessary,” she said, her voice light and breathless, but her trembling fingers told me it most definitely was.
“I don’t mi—”
She turned slightly, and her hair fell away as our eyes met.
Holy fucking shitballs of fire. The world stopped at the sight of those crystal blue eyes. Crystal wasn’t even the right term. I’d only seen that color once—back a couple of years ago when I’d volunteered to help Axel with his summer camp back in Sweden. Her eyes were the exact color of the glacier he’d made me hike to.
Thank God the captain of the Reapers didn’t take no for an answer, otherwise I never would have known what to call that shade of blue she was rocking, but there it was. She had bright, glacier-blue eyes…and the world. Fucking. Stopped.
She gasped, as though she’d felt the earth shift too, like I wasn’t the only one experiencing whatever connection this was between us. Fuck me, she was breathtakingly beautiful, her features as dainty as she was. All except those eyes. Those were huge and so damned gorgeous I only noticed something was really wrong when they disappeared.
The elevator had gone black.
She cried out, the sound breaking something deep in my chest, and I instinctively reached for her, grasping her small shoulders to keep her from tumbling over on those impossibly high heels that I could no longer see.
I would have laughed if I couldn’t feel the panic tensing her muscles into bricks. The world hadn’t stopped, but the elevator had. Talk about some fucking timing.
“It’s okay,” I said softly. “The backup should—” The lights came back on,