Page 44 of Ice Cold Chemistry
Waiting for her.
The guys filter in gradually. Zayden and Tori arrive first, followed by Archer, then a cluster of younger players who immediately start arguing about something on their phones. Logan bounces in with his usual golden retriever energy, spots me, and makes a beeline in my direction.
“Banks! What’s up, dude?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “Is Winnie coming? She’s coming, right?”
“Logan.”
“Yeah?”
“Stop talking.”
“Right. Yeah. Shutting up.” He mimes zipping his lips but immediately unzips them. “But seriously, are you—”
The door opens, and I forget Logan exists.
Because Winnie’s here.
She’s wearing jeans and a cream-colored sweater that looks softer than anything I’ve probably ever felt. Her hair falls around her shoulders in loose waves, catching the warm light of the restaurant. She’s got minimal makeup on—just enough to make her eyes look bigger and her lips pinker.
She looks soft, small, beautiful.
I forget how to breathe for a second.
She spots me across the room, and her face breaks into a nervous but genuine smile. She makesher way over, weaving between tables, and I’m suddenly very aware that I’m just standing here, staring like some kind of creep.
“Hey,” she says when she reaches me.
“Hey.”
Brilliant. Truly eloquent.
“You look nice,” she offers.
I glance down at myself. Dark jeans, button-down shirt.
“You too,” I manage.
She smiles as if I’ve said something charming instead of something barely functional. “Ready for this?”
No. Absolutely not.
“Sure.”
We make our way to the private room, and I put my hand on her lower back to guide her through the crowd. This small gesture has become automatic now; I’m not sure when that happened.
The team has already taken their places at the long table in the center of the room. The only open seats are in the middle—of course—sandwiched between Logan and one of the rookies whose name I can never remember.
So much for strategic positioning.
We slide into our seats, and immediately her thigh presses against mine. There’s not enough room.
I try to shift to give her more space, but there’s nowhere to go. Logan is practically sitting in my lap on the other side.
“Cozy,” Winnie murmurs, a hint of amusement in her voice.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m always cold, so this is kinda nice.”
