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Forget turning out like my dad, a measly professional athlete. Or my mother, a mere award-winning songwriter.
“Garrett who?” “Are you shitting me right now? You don’t know who Garrett Graham is?” “Is he famous or something?” Ryder stares at me. “He’s hockey royalty. This is his camp.” “Oh. Yeah. I only follow figure skaters.”
“Dad?” he growls under his breath. “You’re Garrett Graham’s kid?” I can’t help laughing at his indignation. “Not only that, but I’m helping with your shooting drills today.” His eyes narrow. “You play hockey?” I reach over to pat his arm. “Don’t worry, prom king, I’ll go easy on you.”
He’s still as attractive as I remember. Only he’s not a lanky fifteen-year-old anymore. He’s a grown man, filled out and muscular. Sheer power drips off him.
Garrett Graham’s daughter is hot. She was hot when I met her six years ago, and she’s even hotter now.
“Is that what you need from people? To be told what a good girl you are?”
“And you were my girl.” “Yes.” Ryder leans in, his warm breath on my ear, sending a tiny shiver through my body. “We would have been behind this curtain five minutes after we got here.” “Doing what?” I regret the question the moment I voice it. “Getting you primed.”
His voice deepens. Just a hint of gravel. “I’d use my fingers probably. Yeah. I’d press my fingers inside you. Get you close. But I wouldn’t let you come. Just close enough that your entire body hurts, and then I’d force you to go back out there. Watch you squirm while you talk to all those irrelevant people, until finally you’re begging me to leave so I can take you home and make you come.”
I don’t get a hello back, or even a normal sentence. His rough voice fills my ear with two inexplicable words. “Use me.”
“I came to kiss you.” My mouth falls open. I stare at him for a moment. “You…drove all the way here to kiss me.” “Yes.” “I…You…” I’m at a genuine loss for words. Ryder shrugs. “You won’t fuck someone you haven’t kissed. Isn’t that what you said?” “I…” I honestly can’t think straight enough to speak. “So.” Those mesmerizing blue eyes focus on my face “Are you going to let me kiss you, Gigi?”
Garrett snickers. “Ungrateful little shit. I give you all my talent, and what do you do with it? You sing songs.” “Hey, that’s my talent,” Hannah says. He’s quickly shamefaced. “Sorry, Wellsy. Your talent is way better than mine. Hands down.” I think he truly means that. And the sheer love in his eyes almost has me feeling like a voyeur. I never saw my parents look at each other like that. I’ve never seen anyone look at each other like that. I wonder what people see when I look at Gigi.
“You should be prepared,” Owen eventually says, glancing over to grin at me. “For what?” “You’re gonna marry that girl.”
“Always?” she whispers, peering at me with those big gray eyes. “Always. You fall, I pick you up. Always.”
“Like hell I can’t,” I growl. And then I give him another firm shove, forcibly moving him out of my way. “That’s my wife out there.”
