In Your Wildest Dreams (Wildcat Hockey, #4)

“All I had to do was ask. Everyone adores you and were more than happy to come help you celebrate.”


“You threatened them, didn’t you?” Everly smirks and raises one brow.

“Little bit.” She grins. “Come on. There’s cake.”

Everly and Grace know everyone already, so I feel a little like the odd man out as we walk around the party. They introduce me and everyone is nice, but it isn’t until I spot Ash in the kitchen that I feel my lips pull into a real smile.

He walks over, two beers stacked in one hand—one on top of the other. He’s changed into jeans and a white sweater since I saw him earlier. His hair is down and tucked behind one ear.

“You’re alive.” His gaze travels down the length of me, holding on my legs for a fraction longer than necessary before slowly dragging up. “And I’m dead. I suddenly understand why there was a brawl at the club.”

My insides light up even if I want to roll my eyes at him a little. “Wow. That was bad even for you.”

“I thought it was clever. Maybe you just didn’t get it the first time. You’re so hot, you caused a bar fight.” He grins proudly. God, he’s too much.

“It was a club.”

“Same difference.” He holds up the beer in his hand. “Want something to drink?”

“Uhhh. Yeah.”

He tips his head and motions for me to follow him farther into the kitchen. Soda and liquor bottles line the counter, along with snacks and a cake.

Ash grabs a cup, flips it into the air with a wink, and then pours several different types of alcohol and mixers into it before handing it over.

“What is it?”

“A little of this and a little of that. It’s good. Trust me. I’m great at mixing drinks.”

I take a tentative sip and then cough. Holy mother of… “I think my throat is on fire. That’s terrible.”

Like he doesn’t believe me, he takes the cup from me and drinks. His face is impassive for a few moments and then he nods. “You’re right. It’s terrible.”

“I think I’ll stick with beer.” Laughing, I take the unopened beer he was carrying and pop the top.

I turn and glance around for Everly and Grace. They’re in a conversation with a few women I recognize as Wildcat players’ wives, so I stay put with Ash in the kitchen.

He leans back against the counter. “Did you have fun tonight? You know, before shit went down.”

“Yeah, I did actually.”

“You seem surprised.”

“No. I mean yes, but it’s not what you think. Everly and Grace are great and hanging with them is always fun. I just forgot how much I missed having friends to do stuff like that with.” I’m a little embarrassed to have admitted that out loud, but Ash doesn’t laugh or make me feel like a loser for being a friendless twenty-two-year-old. “And I feel really bad the night got cut short. Everly would have closed that place down on the dance floor.”

“I’ll bet.” Ash’s eyes sparkle with happiness. He picks up his beer and the mixed drink he made me. “Come on. I want to show you something.”





Ash opens a door to a stairwell and then leads me down to the basement. What I assume was a living room has been cleared out and the furniture is pushed to one side. No one else is down here, but music is playing from speakers hanging on the wall and the lights are dimmed.

“What do you think?” Ash asks, raising his hands out to his sides. “As good as Club Midnight?”

“Not bad,” I say, smiling at the thoughtfulness. I don’t know if it was his or Piper’s idea, but I love that they made a space for Everly to keep dancing the night away. “It’s missing all the cute boys, but close enough.”

He narrows his gaze playfully. Freaking hell, he’s hot even when he’s not smiling. He’s the hottest guy in every room and that would have been true at Club Midnight too. He knows it too, even if he acts all offended by my comment.

He sets both of his drinks on top of a bookshelf, then takes mine and does the same.

“But they don’t have my sick dance moves.” His long, strong fingers take hold of my hand and he tugs me into the center of the room.

When he lets go, my skin tingles. Ash is all smiles as he starts dancing in front of me.

I don’t join in and it just makes him dance bigger and wilder. He steps closer and takes my hands again, forcing me to sway to the beat.

I finally crack a smile and that just eggs him on more.

“You’re as bad of a dancer as you are a drink maker,” I say.

Does that deter him? Absolutely not. He lifts our joined hands and makes me do a twirl. Then he does one of those moves where he brings me in close with an arm wrapped around me and then uncoils and stretches to send me spinning out with our arms outstretched.

“That is not how we were dancing.”

“No?” His stare holds on my mouth and then he steps back and sweeps a hand in front of him. “Show me how it’s done then.”

I hesitate, but backing down feels like admitting that I care what he thinks of me.

I move just a little at first. Hips swaying, arms flowing at my sides. Ash falls into step with me, closing some of the distance between us as he dances in front of me.

He doesn’t touch me, but he’s so close that I can feel him all around me. Ash is a good dancer when he’s not trying to get a laugh, which I guess shouldn’t come as any surprise. He doesn’t break out any amazing skills; he’s just intuitive and playful. He makes funny faces like he’s really into it, nodding his head as he sings along with the chorus. Even acting silly, though, he never takes his eyes off me.

The song ends and we both come to a stop. Tipping my head back, I glance up at him. The next song has a slower beat. I’m about to step back and suggest we go back upstairs when he holds his hand out to me. “One more song?”

I place my hand in his and he tugs me closer. My chest brushes up against his and then long fingers caress my hip, sending a shot of warmth zipping through me. The three of us shooed away any guys who tried to get all up on us at the club. Despite our joking about it, tonight wasn’t about dancing with cute boys. But if Ash had been there, maybe it would have been.

There’s something about him that puts me at ease and makes my heart feel like it’s going to explode all at once.

Every brush of contact makes me dizzy and warm. My pulse races. If he can hear how fast my heart is beating, he doesn’t comment on it. I should stop this. There are so many reasons why it’s a terrible idea, but I’m tired of pushing people away. Everything in me craves more of this—more fun, more connection, more heart flutters.

“We didn’t dance like this,” I say, a little breathless. Do not fall for this man. Do not fall for this man.

“No?”

I shake my head.

“Their loss.”





18





OUT OF YOUR SYSTEM


ASH





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