chapter six

Chapter 6

Aiden's POV

For a long moment, I simply stood there with my arms folded across my chest, looking down at the impossible man sprawled across my bedroom floor. Even unconscious, Kieran Ashcroft somehow managed to look like he'd picked a fight with gravity and lost with remarkable confidence. A reluctant smirk found its way onto my face before I could stop it. Of all the places in the city this stubborn idiot could have collapsed, he had somehow chosen my room. My room. I slowly crouched beside him, the amusement softening into something quieter as I brushed a few unruly strands of blond hair away from his forehead. My fingers lingered longer than they should have, tracing the line of his temple almost absentmindedly before my thumb ghosted lightly over his cheek. "You fool," I whispered, my voice barely louder than the silence around us. "Why do you always have to make things harder for me?"

I let out a slow breath, forced myself to pull my hand away and shrugged off my jacket, tossing it carelessly onto the bed before reaching for him. "Come on, Gorgeous," I muttered. "Let's save what little dignity you've got left." Hooking one arm beneath his shoulders, I tried hauling him upright. Nothing. He barely moved. I frowned, adjusted my footing and tried again, this time managing to drag him into a sitting position with considerably more effort than I cared to admit. "Seriously?" I breathed between a laugh and a groan. "Now I know why they call you the King of the Ice." Dead weight. Pure, infuriating dead weight.

Somehow, after several awkward attempts and far too much muttering under my breath, I managed to get him onto his feet. His head lolled forward, nearly colliding with mine before I shifted him again, one arm draped securely around my shoulders while I guided him toward the bed in a clumsy shuffle that looked less like rescuing someone and more like surviving them. Every step was a negotiation. Every stumble threatened to take us both down. By the time we reached the mattress, I was half laughing, half exhausted.

"Right," I murmured. "One... two..."

I pushed.

He fell backward exactly as planned.

I didn't.

The second his body hit the mattress, his hand shot out with surprising strength and caught the front of my shirt, dragging me down with him before I could react. I landed with both hands planted on either side of his shoulders, my face barely inches above his own. For one suspended heartbeat, neither of us moved.

Then Kieran's eyelids fluttered.

His grey eyes fluttered open just enough to find mine. For several long seconds he simply stared as though trying to decide whether I belonged inside the room or only inside whatever dream he'd wandered into, then the corners of his mouth lifted into the slowest, laziest smile I'd ever seen. "You again..." he murmured, his voice rough with sleep and alcohol. "Do you ever get tired of tormenting me?" A quiet laugh escaped me before I could stop it. "Tormenting you?" I echoed, placing a hand dramatically against my chest. "That's a little unfair, don't you think? I rescue one ridiculously handsome hockey captain from sleeping on my bedroom floor and suddenly I'm the villain." His smile deepened. "You are." "Am I?" I asked, leaning just enough for our eyes to stay locked. "Mhm." His gaze wandered lazily across my face before settling back on mine. "You've been tormenting me... since that night."

Everything inside me stopped. The room seemed to disappear around us, leaving only those four words echoing inside my head. A slow smile spread across my lips, hopeful enough to frighten me. "Well," I said softly, unable to hide the warmth creeping into my voice, "that's interesting." He blinked at me. "I was beginning to think I'd imagined that night." Kieran gave a sleepy little scoff, looking almost offended. "There's more to me than good looks and biceps, you know." I laughed outright. "Is that so? Here I was convinced your ego occupied all the available space." He poked himself proudly in the chest. "My ego happens to be devastatingly attractive." "I'll give it points for confidence." "It deserves them." I shook my head, smiling despite every reason not to. "You're unbelievable."

My smile lingered as hope quietly crept back into my chest. "Then that means you remember boot camp too," I said, studying him carefully. "You remember me." The words hung between us. His grin remained for another heartbeat before uncertainty slowly creased his forehead. He stared at me as though I'd suddenly started speaking another language. "What?" My own smile faltered. "The summer," I whispered, searching desperately for anything behind those beautiful grey eyes. "Boot camp. Sunrise practices. Hot chocolate before training. You and me." He continued staring, confusion replacing every trace of confidence. "I..." His brows pulled together harder. "What are you talking about?"

The hope inside me cracked so quietly I almost didn't feel it happen. I forced another smile onto my face, though this one hurt far more than the last. "So..." I murmured with a soft chuckle that fooled neither of us. "...was I really that easy to forget, Gorgeous?" His eyes drifted slowly over my face, studying me with frustrating concentration as though the answer sat somewhere just beyond his reach. "I know you," he mumbled at last. Relief hit me so suddenly I almost laughed. "Careful," I teased, my grin returning despite myself. "Don't go saying things like that. You'll have me believing miracles still happen." He lifted one lazy finger, pointing directly at my face. "Your eyes." "My eyes?" He nodded very seriously. "They're unfair." I couldn't help smiling wider. "Unfair? That's a new one." "They keep looking at me..." His voice softened until it was barely a whisper. "...like they already know me."

My smile disappeared before I could stop it. "They do," I answered quietly. He blinked. "What?" I looked away for only a second, laughing softly under my breath as I shook my head. "Nothing." His fingers found the front of my shirt again, bunching the fabric with surprising determination. "No..." he murmured. "Don't hide." My chest tightened. "I wasn't hiding." "You were." I smiled sadly. "I've gotten pretty good at it." His sleepy gaze lingered on me for another long moment before another crooked smile appeared. "You've got..." He paused, fighting to keep his eyes open. "...a sad smile." I arched a brow. "I thought I looked devastatingly handsome." "You do." "So which is it?" "Both." I laughed quietly. "I'll take both." He shook his head, his thumb brushing clumsily against my sleeve. "I don't like the sad part." Something deep inside me gave way. "No?" He shook his head again. "You should smile... like you're winning." I held his gaze for what felt like forever before answering with the smallest smile I'd managed in years. "I don't think I am." His own smile softened. "You will."

Without realizing it, my eyes drifted to his lips. I told myself I was only checking whether he was still awake, only making sure he wasn't about to fall off the bed again, but we both would have known that was a lie if he'd been sober enough to see it. The distance between us disappeared inch by inch until his breath brushed lightly against my face. "Kieran..." I whispered. No answer came. His fingers slowly loosened their grip on my shirt. His head rolled gently to one side. A soft snore escaped him instead. I closed my eyes, let out the longest, most defeated laugh of my life and rested my forehead lightly against his for the briefest moment before forcing myself to pull away. "You've always had perfect timing, Gorgeous," I whispered with a sad smile. Even unconscious... he'd saved me from myself.