Collision course
Bella
It was that kind of night.
Aspen Ridge’s elite were out in full force, draped in designer suits and gowns, sipping vintage champagne as they exchanged veiled threats disguised as pleasantries.
I belonged here. This was my world, a kingdom I had built brick by merciless brick, years of crying into my pillow and dealing with men whose sole idea was to put me behind the scenes.
Finally, I looked like I belonged with them.
I lifted my glass of wine, letting the taste linger on my tongue as I surveyed the room from my usual vantage point near the bar. A strategic position. Close enough to the crowd to be seen, yet removed enough to observe. Control was everything, and I had mastered the art of holding people at arm’s length.
My heart was a fortress and no one was getting in.
That was, until my gaze collided with his.
He was leaning casually against the far end of the bar, a picture of arrogant ease. Dark blond hair, slightly tousled like he’d just run his hands through it. Piercing blue eyes that burned with a kind of reckless energy I recognized all too well. A black dress shirt, unbuttoned just enough to hint at the sculpted body beneath.
Nathan Carter.
I knew who he was before he even had to introduce himself. The Aspen Ridge Wolves’ newest star forward. A twenty-five-year-old golden boy with talent, fame, and a reputation for breaking hearts as easily as he scored goals.
His mouth tilted into a slow, knowing smirk.
I turned away.
But the moment I did, I felt him move. Quietly, like he had found his prey and wanted to ensnare the said prey in his charm. He had the kind of deliberate, unhurried steps of a man who knew exactly what he wanted.
I didn’t look at him when he stopped beside me, though I could feel the heat radiating off his body. It was so different from the ice I had wrapped myself in.
“Didn’t take you for the kind to drink alone.” His voice was deep, rough around the edges, laced with amusement.
It grated on my nerves.
I took another sip of my wine before glancing at him, my expression cool. “And I didn’t take you for the kind to interrupt a woman who clearly enjoys her solitude.”
His grin widened, completely unfazed. “You enjoy it, sure. But that doesn’t mean you need it.”
My fingers tightened slightly around the stem of my glass.
Bold.
He was bold, I would give him that.
“I assume you have a reason for speaking to me,” I said evenly. “Or do you make it a habit of bothering women who aren’t interested?”
He chuckled, the sound low and infuriatingly smooth. “You haven’t exactly told me to leave, have you?”
I turned fully to face him then, meeting those too-blue eyes head-on. “I don’t play games, Mr. Carter.”
He studied me, as if searching for a crack in my armor. “Neither do I. At least, not off the ice.”
I arched my brow. “That’s debatable, considering your reputation.”
“Ah.” He exhaled a mock sigh, shaking his head. “So you’ve heard the stories.”
“Hard not to. You are pretty popular amongst the media.”
He smirked again, but it had challenges written all over it. “Then tell me,” he came closer, “what else have you heard?”
That I should stay away. That he was reckless, a womanizer, too young, too dangerous.
That he was exactly the kind of man who could set fire to the fortress I had built around myself if I wasn’t careful.
But I didn’t say any of that.
Instead, I set my glass down and offered a politely dismissive smile. “Nothing worth repeating.”
I expected him to let it go, to move on to someone more willing to fall under his spell. But Nathan Carter wasn’t like other men.
“You know, it’s funny,” he murmured, tapping his fingers against the bar. “You look at me like I’m a problem.”
I tilted my head. “Are you?”
His grin turned wolfish. “Depends. Do you like a little trouble?”
I let out a quiet laugh, shaking my head. “You really don’t give up, do you?”
“Not when I see something I want.”
The way he said it, slow, low and confident sent a flicker of heat through my veins. I didn’t think I was capable of feeling those.
I should have walked away then. Instead, I stayed.
“I don’t do distractions,” I said coolly. “And that’s exactly what you are.”
His gaze flickered over my face, unreadable for a fraction of a second before he leaned in, just enough for his clean, crisp scent to tease the air between us.
He smelt like sin.
“Then don’t be distracted,” he murmured.
I exhaled slowly. “You should go find someone more suited to your… tastes.”
He didn’t move. He studied me with his gaze intent, as if he were unraveling me thread by thread.
“You think I don’t know who you are?” he asked suddenly.
That caught me off guard.
“Oh?” That was what left my lips.
“You’re Isabella Monroe,” he continued, his voice a little softer, “Billionaire. Ice queen. Untouchable.”
I arched a brow. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Mr. Carter.”
“Wasn’t trying to flatter you,” he said simply. “Just pointing out that I see you.”
Something tightened in my chest. He was playing a dangerous game.
“You don’t know me,” I countered.
“Maybe not yet.” A pause. A deliberate, calculated pause. “But I will.”
I inhaled sharply, straightening. “That’s presumptuous.”
“That’s inevitable.”
His confidence was maddening. And worse? It was working.
The jazz music swelled around us, the warm air pressing in. The weight of his stare made my skin prickle, made something unfamiliar stir deep in my stomach.
This was dangerous.
This wasreckless.
I have to get out of here.
I reached for my clutch, gathering my composure like a shield. “It was interesting meeting you, Mr. Carter, but I have business to attend to.”
His gaze flicked to my lips, then back to my eyes. “Sure you do.”
I turned and walked away before he could say another word.
I felt him watching me.
I felt himeverywhere.
And for the first time in years, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to escape or if I wanted to see just how far he was willing to chase me.
