Altercation: Playmaker Duet (Prescott Family Book 4) Page 8

  “My arches kill though,” she stated with a sigh when we finally reached the last step. “I’ll be excited to take them off.”

  “You could have brought your boots. I wouldn’t have minded.”

  She smiled and shook her head, not saying anything. This time, as we walked down the hall and toward the garage, I let my hand move to her lower back. When she startled, I nearly took my hand away but she relaxed quickly, even going as far as letting go of her blazer.

  That’s right, Prescott. You got this.

  For not normally wearing heels, she looked fucking fantastic walking in them. I tried hard to keep my attention forward and not on her, but it was difficult. The added height brought her forehead in line with my lips, and I found I wanted to press them there.

  Hold her. Kiss her.

  “We don’t have to do dinner,” she said, bringing me back to the here and now. “It was fun just coming to the game. I’m sure you have things you’ll need to do tonight and in the morning.”

  “Oh, we’re doing dinner,” I answered, before back pedaling quickly. “What I meant was, I want to take you to dinner. We have reservations.”

  The garage was starting to get busy, my teammates and some of the other team staff heading home for their early evenings. Usually we didn’t get out of here until well into the night. As it was, it was seven. Plenty of time for everyone to get home and do…whatever it was they did at home.

  Some of the guys shouted their goodbyes, some going as far as revving their cars in the garage—something they’d likely get a notice about at practice tomorrow afternoon. I said my goodbyes and walked Asher to Nico’s car, opening the unlocked passenger door for her.

  “For you,” I said, finally taking my hand from her back and gracing her with a mock bow.

  I earned another smile from this mysterious girl with the psychedelic eyes; I was starting to count them, they were so rare.

  She slipped past me and sat in the passenger seat, rearranging the blazer shut in front of her as I closed her in.

  But not before I got a look down her cleavage.

  It was unintentional!

  But it was there, and suddenly I was reminded of the fact she wasn’t wearing a bra and fuck, I was sporting chub again.

  I rolled my eyes heavenward, praying for the strength to get through dinner.

  And tonight.

  And tomorrow.

  And the next day.

  Fuck it. I just needed to get through all of it sane and without embarrassing myself.

  Good luck, Prescott.

  Dinner had been surprisingly fun.

  Porter shared stories of growing up, while we shared a lasagna platter. Whenever it was my turn to share my past, I remained vague—not the best student but a bright one, graduated this past spring, considered that the Marine Corps could be my ticket out—and he didn’t press for more.

  Before we knew it, the restaurant was closing—yes, we spent hours there—and we headed back to the townhouse he and Nico shared. Porter even opened the car door for me, not just when we left the restaurant, but when we got back to his place after parking in Nico’s designated spot.

  But now?

  Now the nerves were settling back in, nice and cozy in the pit of my stomach.

  Would he take the couch? Should I offer to take the couch? I probably would fit on it better.

  Last night had been so easy; I just fell asleep.

  I clutched the front of the blazer as we made our way to the back door of his townhouse. Porter walked beside me, his steps matching mine pace for pace, and once we reached the back, he pulled open the glass door and unlocked the main one, pushing it open and letting me step in before him.

  He flipped on the light, illuminating the kitchen, and pulled the door shut behind us. I watched as he locked the door.

  “You okay?” he asked, and I realized my gaze was fixed on the door he just locked.

  Forcing a smile, I looked up at him, making my eyes meet his. “I’m good. Tired.”

  He nodded. “Me, too. Long day.” I wondered if he was just as unsure about what to do from here as I was.

  If only Avery were here.

  There would be none of this awkward do I or don’t I.

  “You maybe want to watch a movie?” he asked, shifting in his spot. Still though, his eyes remained on mine. “You know, relax a bit before bed.”

  I was going to fall asleep, there was no sense denying it.

  If I woke up in the morning and he was still in the bed, would I be okay with it?

  “You can say no.” His voice dropped a level and his eyes shifted to my lips. I licked them nervously.

  I may not know him exactly, but I kind of did. I knew his family. I had a good idea of his character. I didn’t for a second believe that he would do anything that I wasn’t okay with.

  So I shrugged, trying really hard to be more flippant about it than my nerves actually were. “Okay.”

  She was out.

  Like the flip of a switch, Asher zonked out within ten minutes of the movie starting. At least tonight. she’d gone ahead and was laying down before doing it.

  When we got back, she changed into what likely were her sleep clothes, and it wasn’t the leggings and hoodie she wore last night.

  Nope.

  Tonight, it was skin tight bike shorts under a baggy as hell t-shirt. I knew she had bike shorts on only because when she came back into my room after changing, a corner of her shirt was tucked in the waistband. It was a damn good thing I’d already been changed and settled on my bed with a pillow over my lap because if not, I would have definitely made the girl run for the hills.

  What she wore was no different than something my sisters would wear to bed, but it was just different on Asher.

  She had braided that thick mass of hair of hers over her shoulder and her face was scrubbed of what little makeup she’d worn to the game. Without the effect from eye makeup, her eyes weren’t as bright—the reds and blues in the green orbs didn’t pop as much—but they were still the most intriguing mix of colors I had ever seen in someone’s eyes.

  She’d crawled up the foot of the bed to the side of the bed she’d used the night before, avoiding my eyes as she moved under the sheets and duvet. She curled up on her side facing me, her head on the pillow and her hands under her head, and she turned her attention to the television.

  I should be a good guy and finish the movie in the living room.

  But I wasn’t always a good guy, and right now, I really wanted to stay right here and watch her, movie be damned.

  I couldn’t say I ever had a girl I wanted to impress as badly as I did Asher. Girls were easy in high school. And Mo? Mo was easy, too, as much as I liked the girl.

  But Asher?

  Asher was different.

  She colored her arm and pierced her face, but there was more to her than what she was showing the world, and I wanted in on her secrets.

  Now, when she slept so damned comfortably in my bed, she was the most relaxed I’d seen her since watching her sleep last night. She held the world on her shoulders otherwise.

  Was she a challenge I wanted to take on? Because she would definitely be a challenge. She was not like the other girls I had and, in all honesty, I wasn’t all that put off by it.

  With Asher, I would have to move slow. There wasn’t a doubt in my damn mind about that. Pair that with how often we could possibly see one another…

  I’d be moving really fucking slow.

  Not at all interested in the movie, I grabbed for the remote and turned the television off, sinking down to lay in bed. At the last minute, I decided to slide under my sheets. I’d try hard to stay on my own side.

  Move to the couch, asshole.

  Nope. Not doin’ it.

  I lay on my back and folded my hands together, resting them on my chest, and turned my head to look at Asher.

  Who was she?

  What secr
ets did she hold?

  And would she ever get comfortable enough to let me know them?

  Or, would I get bored with the chase eventually, and let her keep them?

  I wasn’t a patient man by any means, but I was willing to ride this one out and see.

  A wedding on a Tuesday. Only in a hockey family when it was the middle of the season.

  I adjusted my tie, dying to loosen it and take it off, but we still had pictures to take.

  McKenna made a beautiful bride, and I guess Parker looked okay, too. The real star of the show though, and I knew Ken agreed, was his six-year-old daughter.

  Parker had sole custody of Ella. From what I understood, the mom didn’t want her and Parker, at barely eighteen years old, stepped up right away, raising her on his own from day one. He’d been a good hockey player but put it aside to raise Ella.

  So I guess I couldn’t hate on the guy too badly.

  Ken and Parker met at the local rink, of all places, and I say that because McKenna didn’t skate. What she was doing at an ice rink was way over my head, but regardless, she was there, and had Dad come watch him one day.

  Parker was brought into the Beloit Enforcers fold within a week and had been playing with them for a little over two years.

  Parker and Ken dating was a whole different issue but whatever. It worked out, if this wedding was any indication.

  Right now, the entire fam was freezing our asses off half a block from the Historic Pabst building where they were married, and where dinner and the reception would ensue. I’m sure the pictures would turn out great, with the old-school lights and this funky wood log and steel structure Ken and Parker were currently in front of, but damn, it was twenty degrees out.

  I suppose, being December, I should be thankful it wasn’t below zero, but it was cold.

  To my left was Mom, dabbing at her eyes, and to my right was Ace, holding McKenna’s flowers. I leaned back to see further down the line, wanting a glimpse of her.

  Asher tried to stay back at the Pabst building but McKenna wouldn’t let her. Told her she wanted Asher in the pictures, too.

  Every time I saw her, Asher got prettier and prettier. I wasn’t sure if it was because she was growing comfortable with my family or if it was just the whole distance making you fonder thing, but damn.

  The last time I’d seen her was the weekend she was down in South Carolina. When I confronted Ace about it a few days after Asher left, my sister just laughed over the phone and told me I would thank her in time.

  Little did she know, I thanked her already.

  Those few days gave me an insight into Asher that I didn’t have before. She was quiet, yes. She had her secrets, sure. But when she let loose? When she smiled and laughed?

  Day. Made.

  Her last night at my place, it was Asher who asked if we could watch a movie before heading to our separate sleep places.

  Separate sleep places that didn’t happen a single night while she was there. Sleeping remained completely G-rated, but I definitely felt like I was making some headway with her.

  Slowly, but surely. I decided that weekend that I was completely okay looking at this like it was a marathon, not a sprint. Some things took time and were well worth the fight in the end.

  But then, after making these decisions, I hadn’t heard a word from her. Not since dropping her off at the airport that Sunday. I mean, I suppose I could have texted her too, but…

  I guess, in the end, I just wasn’t sure of anything when it came to Asher. I didn’t know what was too fast, and what was too slow.

  I just knew that I was attracted to her and wanted to see if something could happen there.

  When I got to the house last night, it was late and I couldn’t very well make an excuse to go down to the guest house to say hello. It was ten. You didn’t make house calls at ten at night.

  And then this morning, the girls all left to get their hair and faces made up well before I woke up, so the first time I was able to see Asher was right before the ceremony, when I slid onto the bench at the opposite end of where she already sat with my parents, brothers, and sisters-in-law.

  Because my spot had been saved on the end next to Cael, I couldn’t very well go to the other end and sit next to Asher, as badly as I wanted to talk to her. I sat through McKenna’s ceremony, knowing that Asher sat feet away from me, but I couldn’t do anything about it.

  Both Myke and Avery were bridesmaids, and as such, each wore a deep gray dress, but Avery, I guess, talked Asher into a lighter gray dress. Or so I overheard.

  And, fuck, what a dress it was on her.

  It was strapless and floor length, and had these clear gem things on the top. It was all hidden under the warmth of a sweater right now though, as we all stood freezing our asses off for pictures.

  Done waiting for a good time to talk to her, I stepped back and walked behind my family, moving to Asher’s side.

  “How are you?” I whispered, leaning into her while facing forward, keeping my eyes trained on Ken and her new husband.

  They weren’t the three most stellar words to be spoken after six weeks or so of not seeing or talking to her.

  I really lost a lot of my mojo when it came to Asher.

  She looked over at me, which obviously resulted in me looking at her, and shrugged her shoulders up. “Okay,” she whispered back.

  She was so fucking gorgeous. Her face was all sorts of made up today and her hair was curled and down. I wanted to thread my fingers through it, test the thickness and heaviness of it, as I stared into her eyes. I wanted to watch as the green gave way to the reds, or watch as the blues darkened.

  I wanted to know what colors did what.

  Would they show her happy? Sad? Quiet, upset, concerned?

  I wanted to know if the fact they were currently bright green, with rich blue and red specks, was because she was happy to be included in my family.

  If there was one thing I learned from my calls home and texts with Ace, it was that Asher was more than welcomed into the Prescott fold.

  Did that make her happy? Or was she making plans on leaving again?

  God, I hoped not. I didn’t have enough time to truly get to know her yet.

  I stepped closer to her, so that I was almost behind her but still beside her. If I needed an excuse, I could use that I was too close to the sidewalk otherwise.

  Hate to be in the way of the passers-by that weren’t really there.

  I could see goosebumps on her neck where her sweater didn’t cover and if I looked close enough—because yeah, I was—I could see that she was shivering.

  Damn McKenna and her pictures.

  I quickly pulled off my jacket and draped it over her shoulders, not bothering to ask her if she was cold. I knew damn well she’d tell me she wasn’t. She was a stubborn one.

  Asher jumped when the warm coat settled on her shoulders and she looked back at me, her eyes wide, and I got one of my answers to my earlier thoughts.

  When startled, the blues in her eyes darkened to a near black, making the red specks appear almost orange.

  “Sorry. You’re cold.” I lifted my brows, daring her to deny it, and I knew by watching her face that she was going to but thought better of it.

  “Thank you,” she said softly.

  She turned her attention toward the bride and groom again and I widened my stance, crossing my arms over my chest to ward off the chill now that I was without my jacket. I wasn’t super cold, not by any means. I would be just fine without my jacket for the time being.

  I felt bad when I had to take it back from her for a family picture but at least she didn’t look as cold any more. Asher stayed back while the photographer rearranged my parents, siblings, and myself around Ken and Parker. The first picture was just the nine of us, but for the next shot, the photographer had Sydney and Jenna come in to stand next to my brothers.

  Jonny’s wife, Jenna, always looked like she had a stic
k up her ass, and I was surprised she wasn’t complaining about how cold she was. She had a way of ruining family events. Instead, she stood next to Jonny, placing her left hand on his chest. I had the ill-thought that it was so her ring was front and center on the shot. It was one of those eye-knocker rocks, and was much larger than McKenna’s modest rings—but Ken was a modest girl.

  Girly, but modest.

  It would not surprise me in the least if Jenna was being a bitch subtly. It was what she did.

  My nephews, Caleb and Sydney’s boys, were passed around. Three-year-old Brandon ended up standing in front of Caleb, with Brody, a year and a half, on Caleb’s hip. It was too cold for their youngest, Brielle, who was hardly six months old, so she was back at the venue with the nanny Cael and Sydney hired.

  I fixed my eyes toward the remaining group, and on Asher, who stood back, watching. Parker’s family was off the side, chatting among themselves and Asher stood by herself now that my family was being arranged for pictures. She had a small smile on her face but it didn’t look like one of those forced ones she sometimes tried to pull off. She looked happy, even if the smile was hardly a tilt of her lips.

  “Alright, guys. Here we go,” the photographer said, stepping back with her camera. She was a friend of Mom’s, because there was no way Mom was shooting this wedding. She even said so, not that it had to be said.

  McKenna, who had been giggling at something Parker whispered in her ear, held up her hands. “Wait! Asher, get in here, silly.”

  I fought a grin as I watched her eyes widen in surprise. She knew that McKenna wanted her in pictures, so why she was so surprised to be included in this particular shot was beyond me. I wondered if I would ever truly know this girl.

  If I was successful in my goal, damn straight I would.

  “No.” Asher shook her head but her smile was in place. It was still a real one. “You guys just take it.”

  “Don’t make me drag you over here,” Ken said, and I looked over to where she stood, hands on her hips and brows up.

  “Yeah, c’mon, Ash,” Avery chimed in. “You can stand next to me.”