Home Ice (19 page)

The second period was as fast paced, but it didn’t seem that way. Just like before the slump, he could see plays before they happened, get ahead of the puck, stay ahead of the game. He was in control again and felt untouchable. Every time a chance opened up, he took it. If nothing was there, he
made
an opening. By the next horn, they netted two more goals while Vancouver floundered to keep up.

In the third period, the Sinners really found the zone and wiped the ice with the Canucks to an embarrassing seven to zip finish. He’d scored two of those goals and gotten three assists. On the way to the locker room, he curled an arm around Lori, hauled her against him, and kissed her hard as endorphins flooded him. She leaned into the kiss, wound her arms around his neck, and gave him what he hoped to God was a preview of the rest of the night, because he’d never wanted anyone so bad.

Whistles and cheering around the arena brought him back, and sure enough, there they were on the Jumbotron screen. Lori’s cheeks reddened, but she waved to thunderous applause.

He leaned close to her ear. “I’ll see you in an hour. Your place?”

She nodded and gave him another quick kiss before he headed down the tunnel. As good as the game was, he couldn’t wait to be alone with her. As he and the team peeled off equipment, Nealy gave a congratulatory speech. Well, her version with some backhanded compliments in case their egos were getting too big. There was swearing as usual, but this time in good spirits. Reporters filtered in for postgame interviews, and for once, he was kind of looking forward to it.

Lori’s apartment

“You’re a genius.” Dylan kissed her as soon as he walked through the door. He wound his arms around her waist, picked her up, and swung her in a circle.

She smiled against his lips. “Thank you for noticing.”

“It worked, having that time by myself before the game. Quiet is definitely better than Reese telling me I can walk on water.”

“Well, technically you can. Ice is wa—”

He kissed her again and started walking toward the bedroom, her feet swaying by his shins. She giggled, and her arms tightened around his neck. She’d graduated from the air cast to a simple Ace wrap, so there was no plastic boot to bruise him. He laid her gently on the bed and hovered over her on hands and knees. The desire in her pale green eyes chipped at his commitment to take things slowly. It didn’t help that she was already tugging his shirt up his chest.

He caught her wrists and pushed them down with a light touch before peeling his shirt off the rest of the way and tossing it on the floor. He pulled the hem of her jersey up slowly, letting his fingertips brush over the soft, firm skin of her stomach. The muscles flinched beneath. That invitation to tickle might be tempting, but he couldn’t wait. And neither could she, judging by the impatient way her hips rolled up into his, driving him crazy.

Her jersey joined his shirt, and then her bra. Jeans were a little trickier, and there was the brief pause for protection, but after that they were skin-on-skin. They’d always taken their time before, learning each other and making every minute last. Not tonight. This was more about pent-up passion, immediate fulfillment. Release. He didn’t hold back, and neither did she.

Riding the high of the game, being with Lori felt like an out-of-body experience, but he was still acutely aware of every touch, kiss, thrust. She felt amazing. It was too hot, too combustible to last very long. When she tensed beneath him, he was right behind, panting, groaning, and gasping at the intensity.

When Lori went limp, it took the rest of his energy to roll on his side so she wouldn’t have to bear his full weight, and then his muscles gave out too. Liquified, it felt like. “Oh God.”

“Assuming that’s positive feedback, I second it.”

He laughed and wrapped an arm over her belly, laying his head on the pillow beside hers. “Out of all the good things that happened today, this is the best.”

“Really?” She looked at him, and the cautious hope in her face made his heart ache.

“Yes.” The game had been one of the best of his career. But coming home to her? No contest. That had never happened before. He’d gotten invested in relationships, enjoyed being with girlfriends, but this was undeniably different. He clicked with Lori on an entirely different level. His heart sped up every time he saw her, but there was also a deep calm in his bones. It didn’t seem possible for one person to be both exciting and comfortable, but she was.

She’d gone quiet, almost shy.

“What?”

“Doesn’t feel like you’re just talking about the sex.”

“I’m not.”

“That scare you?” The way her voice wavered said that it scared
her
.

“Maybe it should, but it doesn’t. Being with you doesn’t scare me. Losing you does.”

She brushed some hair from his forehead, trailed the line of his jaw with her fingers. “Why would you lose me?”

He winced and buried his face in the pillow. “I’m overbearing and a know-it-all.”

“You’re working on it.” The grin in her voice softened that bit of truth. “I’m working on it, too.”

He lifted his head. “You are?”

She sighed. “I’ve been informed I can be just as stubborn. You’re not the only one who never doubts whether you’re right. Margo said we were raised that way, as competitors. An overdeveloped sense of confidence?”

“You mean we’re arrogant.”

Her laugh vibrated against his arm and boosted his mood even more. “That’s another way to put it. The point is, it’s not just you. I have things to work on, too.”

He kissed her cheek. “If you don’t give up on me, I won’t give up on you.”

“‘Give up’ isn’t in my vocabulary.”

“Mine either.” He closed his eyes and started to drift, more content than he could ever remember. Then something occurred to him, and he opened one eye. “You talk to Margo about me?”

She hesitated a beat, which was an answer in itself, then smiled guiltily. “Yeaaah. Sorry. I talk to Margo about everything. She’s my only girlfriend. If it makes any difference, she likes you.”

“It’s okay. I’m glad you have someone to talk to. I’m grateful for Mad and Reese even though they make me crazy sometimes. I like Margo. She really cares about you.”

“You’re still my best friend.”

He hadn’t meant to pout or fish for the reassurance, but it did feel good hearing her say that. “You’re my best friend, too. You got me out of my slump.”

“
You
got you out of your slump. I just gave some advice.”

He pressed his face in her neck, and she rubbed his back.

“Dylan?”

“Mmm?”

“Will you skate with me next week? Val’s not really interested in rehabbing. He only wants to come back when I’m ready to practice for Nationals, and I need feedback before then. There’s too much riding on that performance, including keeping him as my coach.”

“Of course. We have two away games, but they’re at the end of the week. Monday morning, it’s you and me.”

She kissed his forehead, and he tightened his grip on her waist. The list of things he
wouldn’t
do for this woman was shorter than she knew, but letting her dream slip away was at the top of it.

Monday, December 8th

Please God, please God, please.
Lori prayed for no pain as she laced up her skates for the first time since she’d fallen. She stood on her good leg, toe-touched with the other foot, and slowly gave it weight. So far so good. When she was completely balanced, her ankle felt a little tight but not sore. The relief made her head swim, and she sat back down, taking deep breaths until the trembling stopped. Apparently, she’d been more scared than she realized that this wouldn’t work out. As deep as she’d buried it, there’d been the irrational fear that her ankle would never heal. She’d slip into obscurity and never skate again.

Just because you knew something was irrational didn’t make it go away. In case the pain hadn’t had a chance to hit yet, she waited. It was only a few more minutes before Dylan emerged from the Sinners’ locker room tunnel, his messy hair still a little wet from the shower, his face still flushed from practice. That smile gave her a hot flash even in the cold rink.

“Hey. You didn’t have to wait for me.”

Yes, I did.
“I just finished lacing up.”

“Perfect timing then.” He ambled over in a Sinners long-sleeved T-shirt, jeans, and his skates and held a hand out to her. She took it and stood, trying not to show her fear. No pain. They edged around the front row of seats to the door to the ice. She kept expecting a cosmic
gotcha
. To take one wrong step and collapse in agony. It didn’t happen.

He led her onto the ice, and she kept her face blank. Not because she didn’t trust him to understand how she felt, but because that’s what she’d been trained to do. As soon as you stepped in the rink, whatever you might be feeling on the inside, on the outside, you were cool, calm, confident. Always. Her knee wobbled on the first glide with her injured foot, but that had more to do with not trusting she was healed rather than actually not being healed. Plus, the ice was still a little bumpy and snowy from hockey practice.

But it got easier. It felt
normal
. The tightness in her ankle loosened with every lap, and she eased her grip on Dylan’s hand bit by bit. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything, and for a while they just skated around the quiet, empty rink. It was so peaceful, and with just the two of them, romantic.

“This is a nice change of pace after Nealy almost killed us this morning. A half hour ago, I thought my bones would melt. But I could skate like this with you forever.”

Forever
. That was a nice thought. As much as she needed her job back with Sin City on Ice, and as much as she wanted to make it to the next Olympics, the crazy idea of running away from the world with Dylan held surprising appeal. “I would not complain.”

“It’s kind of like our version of slow dancing.”

“I do need to practice turning and skating backward. I mean I didn’t forget, but I’d like to work my way back to where I was and get comfortable with the basics. If you keep skating forward, I’ll turn around and hold on to your arms. Kind of like slow dancing. Okay?”

He looked a little confused and slightly worried, but he nodded.

It would go easier if she took the lead, so she turned her toes out, almost to first position in ballet, and glided around in front of him but kept moving backward so he wouldn’t run her over. He held his arms out, unsure, and she skated in a little closer to set her hands on his biceps. His hands settled lightly just under her ribs, and they found a pace that would keep both of them standing.

“Like this?”

“Yep. Not so bad, right?”

“No. Not bad at all. I’ve never slow danced on skates before. I can tell you have.”

She could claim her experience was from pairs skating with Bradley in the show, but that wouldn’t be the whole truth. Besides, this wasn’t part of pairs skating unless it was right before a lift. “You got me. Sometimes between practices, the rink owners put on slow songs, and the girls and boys would do a couple’s skate. We pretty much lived there and didn’t get to do normal kid things, so it was a way to socialize and not feel like we were missing out.”

“That’s cute. I bet thirteen-year-old you was a heartbreaker.”

“Thirteen-year-old me was focused and shy. I liked boys, but they didn’t fit into my goal plan. The few times I tried dating, it didn’t work out.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t totally give up on it.”

“I did. Until you. I figured I’d meet someone after I retired from skating.”

“Sorry to throw a wrench in the works.” That grin said he wasn’t sorry at all. Neither was she.

“You’re not a wrench. Actually, you’ve kept me on track. And kept me from losing my mind.”

“Same goes for me double. If anything, I owe you.”

“Let’s say we’re even.” They’d gone around twice without a bump, and she’d barely noticed. Talking to him, skating with him felt so natural that she could go on autopilot. “I’m going to try to spin under your arm and go off on my own for a few moves. You don’t have to do anything.”

“Okay …” He still seemed like he was afraid he’d mess that up.

She bit the inside of her lip so she wouldn’t laugh. She took his left hand in hers, lifted his arm, and spun beneath it, then kept spinning while he glided ahead. The shhhh of his blades digging into the ice said he’d stopped to watch, and that was okay as long as he gave her space.

From the standing spin, she dropped down and extended one leg, feeling the familiar burn but nothing extra. She came out of it without a hitch and did a lap by herself, winding up for a few simple jumps. They were small, easy, and over before she knew it. With each sequence, she felt stronger, surer. Dylan had moved against the glass, but his gaze never left her. A double axel gave her no trouble. Before she could think twice, she went for the triple. It wasn’t until the third rotation that a spike of fear hit her, but there was no time to dwell. She landed it smoothly, and clapping echoed from across the rink.

“Beautiful. Looks like you’re ready to come back to the show.” The director for Sin City on Ice stood by the boards, arms crossed over his chest.

Another shot of relief almost took out her knees, but she stayed composed. “I’m ready.”

“Good. You start Friday.”

Friday, December 12th

“Girl, I am doing my best here, but that green you got going is stronger than all the foundation in the world. You feel okay?”

Lori tried to clear her head and focus on the concern in Margo’s brown eyes fringed with two-inch glitter lashes.
Okay
didn’t really describe her current state. On the verge of a nervous breakdown was closer with ready-to-puke-her-guts-out at a close second. And it was bizarre. She’d never been show-shy before, especially not for
this
show. It hadn’t rated high on her concern scale in the past, and that probably had a lot to do with her undying disdain for it. Funny how things changed with some perspective. Even with her new sponsor, she couldn’t afford to lose this job. And for the first time, she had to prove she deserved it. Add to that the pressure of seeing her face on the billboard outside the rink. The show had played up her return with spots during Sinners games and on radio shows, newspaper ads. It was all humbling. And nauseating.