Perfect Sense (Perfect Series Book 1) (12 page)

Keep it together, Quinn.
I tell myself as place my hand firmly on the door knob. Turning it, I push the door open and step out into the hallway. My eyes are met with a very pompous looking Cash, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest. His baby blues projecting hot lust in my direction.

“Who the hell do you think you are, kissing me like that in front of all those people?”

So much for keeping it together.

“What
really
scares you about us, Mittens?” His eyes darken. He slowly takes a step forward, bringing our bodies inches apart.

I stare back at him, watching a smug smile curl the edge of his lips. I inhale a sharp breath as he brushes my loose and wild curls over my shoulder. Despite my fury, feeling his touch on my heated skin triggers a rippling sensation everywhere his fingers trace.

I shove my finger into his chest. “You only want me because I’m the first female smart enough not to play your games. And deep down it’s killing you. But here’s the thing, Casanova, I know what I want and I know what I need to do to get it. And some asshole jock with a terrible track record might be able to give me temporary satisfaction, but I know that in the long run he’s a perfect fucking mess that makes no sense whatsoever to involve myself with, regardless of what I may or may not feel.”

“You’re a ticking time bomb, Mittens.” He leans in inches away from my mouth, the gleam in his eyes telling me he feels my body trembling in his arms. “And once you explode, trust me, there will be no such thing as temporary.”

Chapter 7

The following week, I attend a charity skate hosted by the Bexley Bruisers for St. Jude’s Children’s Hospital. Every year Bruisers players volunteer to skate with children and sign autographs. The event helps raise money for the hospital, while children and their families get a chance to win prizes and meet the team.

Of course, I’ll admit after the kiss I shared with Cash at the photo shoot I’m nervous as all hell to see him again, but I’ve given myself a good prep talk in preparation of his presence. Over the past week I’ve thought long and hard about my options in dealing with him, and I am pretty sure I have a solid plan.

Keep a safe distance.

Walking quickly into the arena where children are being ushered onto the ice, I check my reflection in the mirrored windows. I have on my favorite go-to little black dress that hugs my curves in all the right places, high red heels and a pair of boho-chic inspired earrings I made the night before.

“Quinn,” Theo calls out and waves me over.

I smile and I walk down the concrete steps toward the glass surrounding the perimeters of the rink. I turn my head to my left to catch a glimpse of the numerous volunteers engaging children in activities on the rink before the players are welcomed.

“It looks fantastic in here!” I turn to face Theo, a broad grin on his face. “I can’t believe the amount of people.”

“As you can see, it’s one of the major fundraising events of the year.” He motions his hand toward the throng of people filing into the arena. “I can’t wait to introduce you to some of our biggest sponsors.”

“Thanks, Theo. I’m looking forward to it.”

All the air vacuums from my lungs and my heart kicks into overdrive when I see that trademark honey hair swim into focus on my far right with his arm wrapped around a tall strawberry blonde.

Keep a safe distance.
I remind myself.

“Sorry, Quinn,” Theo says, breaking my eyes away from Cash and the mystery woman. “Coach Bartley is waving me down. I’ll be right back.”

I absentmindedly nod and Theo disappears in the crowd. I try to look away from Cash, but his broad shoulders fill his jersey in a way that would make any other man feel inadequate in his presence. His blue eyes sparkle with laughter from whatever danced out of her pretty pink lips. Strangely his demeanor is relaxed and there is little to no arrogance radiating from him while he converses with her. For a second I even wonder if she could be his sister, noticing the comfortable and familiar air between them.

When his eyes meet mine his mouth spreads into a slow, smug smile. Catching me off guard, my cell phone buzzes in my clutch. I pull it out and quickly turn it off, seeing Aiden’s number illuminated on my screen. When I look back up I see Cash abruptly excuse himself. He stalks over in my direction, geared from head to toe in his full equipment.

Oh Shit.

All the air drains from lungs and the room suddenly becomes tenser and heavier the closer he gets. Once he is in front of me, one side of his mouth turns up as he leans against the wall and crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Where are your skates?”

I laugh once. “I’m not here to skate around with you, Cash. I’m here to make sure the event runs smoothly. It’s my job.”

He looks back at the strawberry blonde, texting on her cell and then back to me. “Who were you on the phone with?”

“Shouldn’t you be worried about who your date is on the phone with?”

His gaze flickers to my mouth and my God, the heat I feel from his subtle shift in sight, suddenly has me wishing he would kiss me. Again. The amused grin on his lips, as he watches my cheeks flush makes me almost forget where I am.

“She’s not my date.” Cash leans in so close to me that I can feel his hot breath on my mouth.

I narrow my eyes at him. “Oh, really? She’s not your date?”

“If there’s one thing I don’t do with women, it’s date them.”

“Oh, that’s right. I forgot. You just objectify them…” I lower my voice to a near whisper. “And kiss them even after they tell you not to.”

A subdued arrogance radiates from his bright blue eyes. He shakes his head and laughs once. “Come on, you’re not still angry about that kiss are you?”

“Angry? That’s the understatement of the century.” I fold my arms on my chest.

My stomach drops at the look of hunger in his eyes as he watches me with a slight smirk on his face. I immediately regret bringing that kiss up, right here and now. What happened to keeping my distance?

I quickly turn away. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to find Theo.”

His hand grips my elbow, spinning me around to face him. He nods over to the strawberry blonde. “She’s not what you think.”

I shrug him off. “Does it really matter what I think?”

“I’m sorry, okay,” he murmurs, taking one steps closer. “You’re right, I shouldn’t have kissed you. Don’t hate me for it.”

I’m not sure what surprises me more: that he looks worried about my imminent response or that he just apologized and I’m suddenly a pile of mush. “Honestly, I want to hate you, but I don’t.”

He lifts his chin, eyes shining in amusement. “Tell me who you were on the phone with.”

“Excuse me?”

“Come on,” His blue eyes burn into mine. “Just tell me.”

“It was Aiden.”

“Are you going out with
him
?”

“Yeah, I might go out with him and a few other friends next Friday if I’m not stuck working late.”

The sound of several players laughing their way onto the ice behind us breaks our stare and saves me from his prying eyes. Turning my back to him, I weave my way through the crowd and leave him behind.

Once I put myself at a safe distance, I watch him across the arena toss on his helmet and say something to the strawberry blonde. He hands her an envelope and she glances back in my direction with a scowl on her face. She turns back to face him, and then leans over and whispers something in his ear. All of a sudden I’m not feeling well and want desperately to escape from this room. I can’t stop the jealously I’m feeling as I watch her strut through the arena in her painted on blue jeans and tight black t-shirt that does nothing to hide the fact that she's clearly had a spectacular boob job. She glances back at me one last time and snickers, before she exits through the back door.

It’s only been a whole fifteen minutes and I am already fighting my eyes from gawking at Cash on the ice. Luckily, Theo put me in charge of organizing player interviews with the media for post-event press, which has kept me decently occupied. I fix my face in a passable smile as I saunter down the stairs and walk around the edge of the rink to find media reporters, when I hear a praising female voice on my right.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Brooks. You’ve made his day.”

Curiosity drags my gaze to a very proud-looking mother with short dark hair, leaning over the boards to take a picture of Cash kneeling beside a little boy, no older than six or seven.

“No problem.” Cash flashes one of his charming grins and playfully pats the boy’s helmet. He kneels down and then wraps his arm around the boy’s shoulders. They both smile for the camera while his mother takes a picture.

“You play hockey, buddy?” Cash asks him, still down at the boy’s level.

The little boy nods in awe at the sound of Cash’s voice. His mother speaks up for him in his silence. “Yes, he does. And he loves coming to Bexley Bruisers games to watch you play. You’re his favorite player.”

Cash’s face softens and he relaxes, smiling at the boy. “Hockey’s a great game, kid. Work hard and prove yourself every shift, every game. Got it?”

The little boy nods, his eyes light up with such admiration for Cash that they illuminate the entire arena.

“Think you can out-skate me to center ice?” Cash asks him with a playful twinkle in his eyes.

The little boy nods again, this time with a huge grin as Cash slowly counts to three. When he shouts GO, Cash purposely hangs back for a split second and lets the little boy speed past him to center ice. The mother laughs and the boy is ecstatic when he hits the big red dot before Cash does. He squeals with delight when Cash skates up to him, pretending to huff and puff down the ice. Other children who are skating around them see Cash acting like a big goof and start begging him to race them too. Within seconds, Cash has about thirty kids lined up one after another to race him from one blue line to the other.

“What is it about Brooks that all you girls can’t get enough of?” Viktor’s voice catches me off-guard, and I jump, throwing my hand over my heart.

“Shit. Viktor,” I breathe out, blushing. “You scared me.”

He nods toward Cash and the kids, racing along the boards. “Let me guess…you’re shocked that despite his good looks, he actually has a heart.”

I turn my gaze back to Cash who is now on his backside, covered by a bunch of kids tackling him to the ground.

“He’s hardly good looking,” I lie, avoiding his eyes. "Plus he's an ass."

“Come on, Quinn, I thought a girl like you would be immune to his whole aloof and cocky persona.” Viktor watches me with a look of curiosity. The sound of skates slicing across the ice, and the chatter of voices in the background fills the overwhelming awkwardness of my heated cheeks. “You know; this event means a lot to him. Apparently, his mother was a childhood cancer survivor. Didn’t you know he’s one of the biggest sponsors?”

“He is? I didn’t see his name on the donors list,” I reply.

“That’s because he donates under his mother’s name. Take a second look for, Marie Tremblay."

"I recognize that name, she's our biggest donor." I pause, not believing for a second Viktor is telling the truth. I tilt my head to the side eyeing him skeptically. "How do you know this?"

Viktor shrugs, "Last year, Theo let it slip that Cash donated a hefty amount in memory of his mother. Cash was livid that Theo broke their confidentiality. I’m still not sure whether Brooks is modest or hiding something…He’s impossible to read.” Viktor slides his helmet onto his head then gives me a wink. “But hey, when you get bored of gawking over Brooks … you know where to find me.” He yanks open the gate and his skates hit the ice, striding alongside the kids.

My cheeks burn and I sneak another glance at Cash on the ice, my heart racing. When he catches me staring, he stops mid-skate and smirks at me. He gives me butterflies, looking at me like that, surrounded by all those kids, playfully enjoying every moment of making them happy. I can’t help but notice how sweet he is with them on the ice. Something about his modesty and generosity begins to melt my cold heart for him. Maybe there is more to Cash Brooks than seducing hot chicks into long limo rides for a quick fuck. Or maybe there isn’t, but now I’m curious to find out.