Roman (Cold Fury Hockey #7)(29)

My eyes have adjusted enough that I can easily maneuver around the coffee table to the kitchen counter, rubbing my arms briskly to ward off the cold. I grab my own phone, glad I’d plugged it into the phone charger cord there and disconnect it. As I power it up to look at the news, Roman walks to the window that sits above the kitchen sink and peers outside through the slats of the blinds.

“Damn,” he says in amazement. “There’s ice all over the trees and power lines.”

I walk around the counter, come to stand beside him, and look out. The moon is high and bright, lighting up Georgia’s backyard, and it looks like a fairy-tale winter wonderland. There doesn’t appear to be any more sleet or snow falling, but every single structure and tree is glistening with ice.

Turning away from the window, I pull up the browser on my phone and go to the local news page I have bookmarked. My eyes scan a few articles and I’m warmed inside and out as Roman turns and wraps his arms and his warmth around me as I read. It’s an intimate move that speaks more to his concern for me being cold than a need just to touch me solicitously. What’s even more astounding to me is just how natural it feels, and that’s just something that will take a lot of thinking about on my part. We hardly know each other, and yet I seemingly melt into his embrace as if it’s the most natural place in the world for me to be.

“It says there’s over fifty thousand reported power outages,” I say as I read a news article, and then hit a link that takes me to a map provided by the local power company of the homes without power. It has a handy little menu with associated icons to tell you when resumption of power is expected. For my neighborhood, it says not until at least 6 P.M., which means I have about fifteen hours of freezing.

Guess I better load up on layers and pull all my blankets into my room. Looks like I’ll be doing an awful lot of napping and huddling under the blankets until then.

“Come on,” Roman says as he releases me and heads toward the couch. “We’re going to my house.”

“Why?” I ask curiously, not moving from my position.

“So we can get warm,” he says simply.

“But you don’t even know if you have power,” I point out.

I can’t see him all that well in the gloom, but I can feel his smirk.

“I’ve got a whole-house generator,” he explains. “I have heat.”

“Oh,” I say, and then decide to be a bit cautious. “You go on ahead. I’m going to be fine here. Power will be on soon.”

“Not soon enough” is all he says as he puts his shoes on. “So go pack a bag and get your shoes and coat on. I’m going to go out and start my car to warm it up.”

“Roman,” I say with mild annoyance. “I can’t just go to your house.”

“Why not?” he asks as he stands from the couch and moves toward me.

“Well, because…I don’t want to impose on you,” I say truthfully.

“Impose?” he asks, and although I can’t see his expression clearly, I can hear the impatience in his voice.

“Yes, impose,” I say in exasperation. “You drive me all the way there, then you’re going to have to bring me back when my power comes on, and besides that…you have a game today.”

“Not if the arena doesn’t have power,” he says as he walks right into my space and puts his hands on my shoulders. “Not if the city is shut down.”

I start to open my mouth to argue when he interjects, “If you open that mouth to say anything other than ‘Okay, Roman, I’ll go pack a bag,’ I’m going to do something to occupy said mouth.”

It might be cold as hell in my apartment, but heat flushes through me at the thought of all the ways in which he could occupy my mouth.

For a brief moment, I think about arguing with him, just to see what he does. To see if he’ll make good on that threat. But then an involuntary shiver hits me, my body naturally rebelling against the cold, and self-preservation takes over. “Fine. Okay…I’ll go pack a bag.”





Chapter 11


Roman


I hear the soft pad of feet upon thick carpet coming down the stairs and I feel my blood rush a little at the prospect of how Lexi will look first thing in the morning. I didn’t have the privilege of having her in bed beside me so I could judge at first light, since I offered her a guest bedroom once we got to my house in the early morning hours.

While traffic was nonexistent at 2 A.M. as we made our way from her apartment to my house, the roads were still treacherous outside of the main thoroughfares, so it was slow going. By the time we got to my house, I could see the exhaustion all over her face and the slump of her shoulders, and without any thought to anything other than her getting some rest in a warm bed, I put her in the first bedroom at the top of the stairs. She didn’t argue, but I was surprised that she lifted up on tiptoes and kissed my cheek as she murmured, “Thank you for everything, Roman.”

That was nice.

I mean, really fucking nice, and I had no regrets going to sleep by myself. Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have turned her down had she made even the slightest gesture she was interested in something between the sheets with me, but I also wasn’t disappointed either. I’ve figured out enough that Lexi is a different type of woman, and she has piqued my interest in a way no other has before. I’m going to ride this out and see what happens, whereas normally I’d ditch a girl if she didn’t put out for me right away. I know that makes me a bit of an ass, but I’m not apologetic about it either. If a woman gladly gives it up to me that quick, I’m going to take it, and I’m not going to look backward either.