Loving Him Off the Field (Santa Fe Bobcats #2)(34)

Killian walked toward her and halted a foot away, just staring. His eyes were focused, not blurry. But his expression was oddly blank. Like he wasn’t looking at her, or at anything at all, but lost somewhere in his own mind.

She nodded at Killian. “Nice game today.”

He didn’t acknowledge she spoke.

The elevator buzzed, an indication someone had been holding the door open too long.

“Going up, Aileen?” Michael asked, his shoulder blocking the door.

She took one step to the left to maneuver around Killian when his hand shot out and gripped her upper arm. It wasn’t a harsh grip, she could have shaken him off if she’d wanted to. But she wouldn’t. It’d be embarrassing in front of the others. And also, some tiny part of her mind admitted, she loved the feel of his hands on her skin. “No, sorry. Meant to press down and I hit up instead. Go on.”

Michael looked doubtful, but said nothing. The rest of the car had barely paused long enough to say bye to Killian and hadn’t noticed his focus on her. But Michael did. And he was asking with his eyes if she was okay.

She gave a tiny nod, and he returned with one of his own, then let the door close.

He was a good guy, that Michael.

Alone, she took one giant step back from Killian. He simply followed, as if they were in some weird dance. His grip never slackened.

“What are you doing?”

“What are you doing?” he countered, squeezing just a little. His expression was still blank, maybe a little amused, but curiously without a solid hint as to his mood.

Annoying.

“I’m staying in this hotel, too, you know.” Like hell was she telling him she’d been at his door not three minutes ago. Not now, when he was acting like this. “If you’ll excuse me . . .”

“No.”

His voice was so harsh, so low, she nearly didn’t recognize it. The sound raced up her spine, little fingers of dancing pleasure. “No, you won’t excuse me?”

“No, don’t leave yet.”

The sentiment stunned her enough she didn’t resist as he pulled her back toward his room. There was one final thought that flashed through her mind as his key card turned the light green and he pushed the door handle.

Caution. Caution. Dangerous roads ahead.

She whizzed by the blinking sign and walked into his room.

*

Killian raked a hand through his hair and let the key card and his wallet fall on the desk in his hotel room. He’d been running on impulse all evening. First the impromptu decision to join his teammates in Michael’s room for pizza and a movie, then the choice to block Aileen’s exit from his floor, to finally dragging her to his room like a caveman.

But now that the impulsive edge had softened and he could think more clearly . . . what the hell did he do with her?

She sat primly on one of the two armchairs in the room. Telling, that she’d picked a chair instead of the edge of a bed. “So, what?”

“Huh?” He stared at her. “What, what?”

She cocked a brow and tilted her head a little. “You didn’t take any hits today, so I’ll assume that was a question asked from indecision rather than confusion. Why am I here?”

Why was she here? Fantastic question. He blinked, remembering she wasn’t staying on this floor. No media stayed on the same floors as the team. “Why were you here? Before? And don’t say you’re on this floor because we both know that’s crap.”

She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “I was coming by to congratulate you, but you weren’t there. So I was going to just go back to my room. Or maybe the bar for a drink.” She held up her hands. “Nothing sinister, promise. No lock pick set in my bra or master key up my sleeve. Just thought we could . . . talk.”

The story. She’d been after more quotes, more information for her stupid story. For some reason, the reminder she wasn’t here for him, just as a woman knocking on the room of a man, pissed him off. “Don’t you get tired of living through other people’s lives?”

“I live.”

“You constantly learn about other people and how they live. Prying, annoying, picking at all the details until they resemble something ugly,” he tried again.

“I find it fascinating, though the picking analogy wasn’t overly flattering.” Her voice was as smooth and calm as an iced-over lake.

The fact she didn’t have the decency to get pissed just pissed him off even more. “Stop prying into my life, damn it.”

“You made a deal with me.” She stood and walked toward him. “If you’ve got a problem with it, too bad. Should have thought about it before you struck the deal.” She poked one small finger in his chest. “I’m doing the story and following the rules you set out. I’m not trying to pick your life apart. I don’t want to make anything look ugly. I want to know the man behind that shield you wear along with your pads and helmet.”

“So you can share me with the world,” he shot back.

“I don’t want to share you with anyone,” she said, then her eyes widened a little and she took a step back.

“Oh, no you don’t.” He grabbed her upper arms and hauled her toward him. “Run that last one by me again, Freckles?”

“I don’t . . .” She bit her lip, eyes darting around the room before landing squarely on his sternum. “I don’t like it when you call me that.”