Snowbound With The Hockey Star

Chapter 6

I couldn't sleep. So I opted to listen to his breathing, it was quiet and soft. It was the most peaceful sound I have ever heard, but it made my heart beat faster than anything.

I was physically safe. But my mind was on high alert.

The real danger wasn't the storm outside. It was the man sleeping just a few feet away.

I was supposed to be sad about the asshole who cheated on me. Instead, I was lying here, listening to a stranger breathe.

Around 2 am, my throat felt really dry, and I was so thirsty.

I carefully got out of the bed, moving like someone trying not to be seen. The floor was cold under my bare feet. I was only wearing Luca's big, soft t-shirt. It made me feel exposed, like I didn't have much of my own, and that I was relying on him.

I reached the door and stopped. To open it, I had to move very slowly so I wouldn't bump the couch.

I turned the doorknob and pulled the door open just a tiny bit. When the sound of his breathing stopped, it surprised me.

He wasn't sleeping deeply.

I froze, my heart jumping into my throat. The only light in the room came from the glowing wood in the stove. It made soft orange shadows on the floor.

"Ava?" His voice was low and sleepy, like a deep rumble. It wasn't really a question. It was like he instantly knew I was there.

I peeked around the edge of the door. He was lying on his back, his eyes open, looking at the ceiling. The blankets only covered his waist. Even in the dim light, I could see his chest. It looked strong and warm and very real.

"Sorry," I whispered, rubbing my throat. "I just need some water."

He pushed himself up onto his elbows. The bed moved a little under him. "Don't say sorry. If you need anything, just wake me up. You were exposed to the cold a lot today, and you need to rest."

He swung his long legs over the side of the couch and stood up smoothly. He was wearing just sweatpants, and he wasn't wearing a shirt. Seeing him like that, unexpected, open, and half-asleep was arousing.

He was tall, very broad, and really interesting to look at. Everything about him seemed strong and powerful.

I didn't even feel the cold because my body was hot.

"I can get it," I said, taking a step towards the kitchen.

"Stay there." His voice was kind but firm. "The floor is very cold. You'll get sick again."

He walked past me and got a glass from a small cabinet. Watching his back was also very interesting. The muscles in his shoulders moved as he did things.

He filled the glass with water at the sink and turned back, handing it to me. Our fingers touched when I took the glass, and it felt like touching something electric. That small, unplanned touch felt more personal than anything I had ever shared with the man I was supposed to marry.

I raised the glass, trying to focus on the cold water, but his eyes were on me. The shadows couldn't hide how intense he looked. He wasn't looking at the cup. He was looking at me.

"You're still beautiful, even in my old shirt." He said softly.

I couldn't breathe for a second. This was a genuine compliment, something no rich man in a fancy suit had ever given me. It felt true, like he was just stating a fact.

"Luca, I..." I started, but my voice wouldn't work. I was standing in front of him, feeling the warmth from his body, wearing his clothes, and needing him more than I could say.

He didn't move towards me. He didn't have to. The space between us felt like it was getting smaller on its own, pulled by a strong, invisible force.

He took the empty glass from my shaking hand and put it quietly on the small table next to the couch. His eyes stayed on mine. They were focused only on me.

"I know you're running," he said, his voice dropping to a low, rough whisper. "I know you don't want to trust anyone right now."

I swallowed hard. "I don't."

"Good, because I don't want that either he breathed, stepping the few remaining inches closer. His chest was right in front of me, a wall of warmth. "But you don't have to run from this."

He reached out, his big hands gently holding my face. His thumbs rested just below my cheekbones. It was such an unexpected but nice touch that had me leaning into it without thinking. I felt the warm roughness of his palms.

All the walls I built up over myself suddenly fell down.

I was surprised by how much I wanted him. It wasn't a forced feeling or planned romance. It was a strong, real physical at first sight attraction.

His head lowered slowly, giving me plenty of time to pull away, to say no, to remind him that I was hurt. But I didn't do any of those things. I just stood there unable to move, watching his mouth come closer.

Our mouths met, and it was instantly hot.

The kiss wasn't gentle or shy. It was all-consuming. A deep sound came from his throat as he kissed me more deeply. He moved his hands from my face to the back of my neck. He pulled me close to his strong body.

I pressed myself against him, my hands finally holding onto the warm skin of his waist, feeling his muscles tighten under my fingers. I kissed him back with a passion I didn't know I had, wanting to pull his warmth, his safety, and his realness into my own cold heart. His scent made my mind go fuzzy. I felt the hard lines of his stomach against me and the solidness of his chest.

This wasn't supposed to be happening. I was supposed to feel nothing.

When he finally pulled back, just a little, his forehead rested against mine. We were both breathing heavily. The quiet of the cabin was filled with the sound of our ragged breaths.

His eyes stayed closed for a moment. When he opened them, they were dark with wanting, but also something deep – like relief, or maybe regret.

"Ava," he breathed, my name sounding like a question and a warning at the same time.

My body was buzzing. My lips felt tingly, swollen, and hot. The feeling of being open and vulnerable, which I had tried so hard to avoid, rushed back. It came with an undeniable, scary happiness.

I wanted more. I wanted to pull him back into his warm bed and forget the world existed.

But then the cold, hard truth hit me. I just kissed a stranger – a man I owed everything to, a man who was already showing me more kindness than the person I was supposed to marry.

Fear gnawed at me. This was dangerous. This was out of control and it's how people got hurt.

I gently pushed back against his chest.

"I can't," I whispered.

His hands didn't let go completely, but his grip loosened right away. He understood without me having to say anything, and that means a lot.

"Go back to bed, Ava," he said, his voice rough. He let his thumbs stroke my jawline, a touch that lingered and promised so much. "You need to rest."

I nodded quickly, picking up the glass of water from the table again, just to have something to hold. I walked back to the doorway with my legs shaking, and I felt guilty and ashamed of my actions.

I closed the door and leaned against it, listening as he settled back onto the uncomfortable couch.

I wasn't thinking about someone cheating on me anymore. I was cheating on myself. I had come here to be independent, and I had just found a powerfully intense need for a man who looked at me like I was something worth protecting, and something he wanted. I was supposed to hate being weak. But right now, Luca felt like my greatest strength, and that was the most frightening thought of all.