Oops! I'm Living With The Hockey Captain

Getting Closer

Rose

I let out an uncontrollable scream as Alice’s body plummeted over the edge of the roof.

I closed my eyes tightly, my entire body bracing for the horrific, sickening sound of impact down below.

But instead of the sound of shattering concrete, what cut through the air was a massive, heavy thud, immediately followed by loud cheers and booming commands from the police loudspeakers down on the street.

I snapped my eyes open and sprinted straight to the ledge, peering down.

Down there, behind the barricades, the search and rescue team had been on full alert. A massive emergency rescue airbag had been deployed exactly where Alice fell.

Her body had landed squarely in the dead center of the soft cushion, and police officers were already rushing in to secure her.

She was safe. Completely out of her mind, but safe. I’d figured she’d never actually put herself in real danger, she was way too naive for that.

I exhaled a massive breath, letting my shoulders, which had been locked tight the entire time, finally sag with relief.

When I turned back around, Drake was still lying face-down on the concrete. His hand was firmly covering the Zippo lighter, which, thankfully, had gone out before it could hit the ground.

His breathing was ragged and hoarse, and when he finally looked up at me, his icy-blue eyes were swimming with pure shock and residual trauma.

I stepped closer, holding out both my hands toward him. “Hey. Polar bear. Get up.”

Drake stared at my hands for a split second before wrapping his fingers around mine. With a gentle tug, I helped him to his feet.

His massive frame wavered slightly, the lingering adrenaline completely draining his strength, causing his face to momentarily sink into the crook of my neck before he forced himself to straighten up and look intently down at me.

“She… she fell, Rose,” Drake whispered, his voice trembling in a way I’d never heard before. “I almost failed.”

“You didn’t fail, Drake. Look down there,” I said, nodding my chin toward the police perimeter.

“The rescue team has been standing by since we were still in the truck. Ronald coordinated with them through the back channels.”

Drake furrowed his brow, glancing over the ledge before looking back at me, utterly confused.

“But how could they time it... right underneath her? Alice was moving completely erratically up here. There’s no way they could have predicted her fall path that accurately, unless—”

"Unless she actually planned exactly where it would land," I interjected with a wry smile.

I pointed down at the pool of thick liquid on the concrete where we were standing, then crouched down and dipped my fingertip right into it.

I stood back up, holding my finger up to Drake’s nose. "Take a whiff."

Drake leaned in, sniffing my finger, and a second later, his eyes blew wide open. “This… this isn’t gasoline.”

“Nope,” I said, pulling a tissue from my jacket pocket to wipe my finger clean. “It’s cheap kerosene mixed with water and a little used motor oil to turn it black and give it a pungent smell from a distance. Alice played us all, Captain.”

“You mean… this entire self-immolation charade was a fake?” Drake asked, his voice rising with a mix of disbelief and the anger that was beginning to spark in his chest again.

“The gasoline on the floor is fake. The threat to set herself on fire is also fake. Her body was deliberately doused in that mixture, the one that actually smelled sweet up close—just so we’d think she was serious. And she intentionally chose to stand on this exact corner of the roof because she knew that from up here, she had a clear view of the rescue team setting up the airbag below,” I explained calmly, folding my arms over my chest.

“She had zero intention of dying, Drake. She just wanted to create a dramatic scenario where you’d sprint over to save her, wrap her in your arms in front of the media cameras, and be forced to publicly claim her as your fiancée to save her life. She just didn’t account for the fact that she’d actually slip on her own kerosene.”

The biting wind once again enveloped the arena roof, but the suffocating horror of the atmosphere had completely vanished.

Drake fell dead silent, processing the entire breakdown. Slowly, the sheer panic in his eyes receded, replaced by a massive wave of relief, followed by a faint, wicked smirk that suddenly tugged at the corner of his lips.

He took a slow step forward, completely erasing the distance between us until his broad chest was practically pressing against mine.

"You know, Murphy..." Drake lowered his head, his gaze turning dark and intensely focused, sending my heart doing immediate somersaults all over again.

We hadn’t even been living together for a month, but every single day, the tension and the intimacy between us felt overwhelmingly intense.

"You just saved my hockey career, my reputation, and honestly, probably my sanity tonight."

“I know,” I said, tilting my chin up to meet his gaze boldly. “So, I guess you owe me even more now, Morvane.”

Drake let out a low, rough chuckle, a sexy, deeply masculine sound that vibrated right against his chest.

He reached out, his fingers gently tucking a few strands of my wind-tousled hair behind my ear. The warm touch of his skin against my freezing neck sent a familiar electric jolt straight down my spine.

“I’m not talking about debts, Rose,” Drake whispered, his voice dropping into a casual yet dangerous sigh as his face slowly drifted closer to mine. “I’m talking about that new rule you set back at the apartment.”

My breath caught in my throat. “Which… rule?”

“The one about asking for permission,” Drake smiled faintly, his eyes completely locked onto my slightly parted lips.

“The wind up here on this roof is freezing, Murphy. And I don’t think the sofa in our loft is going to be warm enough to make up for what you pulled today. So… can I have that permission now?”