You’d think everyone’s clothes would be spelled, especially in a town like Silver Springs, but you’d have to be pretty rich to pull that off. Even when I worked at the agency, and really needed spelled gear, half my requests got denied. And since protection spells aren’t in my repertoire, I was hard out of luck. And it’s not like I can afford to keep a specialized witch on staff full-time, the way the Blades do during hockey season, just to keep gear spelled.
I start unlacing my boots, but Hockey Hottie keeps drawing my eye. I’ve watched plenty of Blades games—mostly for the in-game shifting and spells, not the game itself—but I can’t say that I’ve ever seen him before. On the ice, or off. And you’d think I’d remember a guy like him.
“Late night skate?” he calls out in a deep, sexy voice that sets my heart racing.
It’s a reaction I haven’t had to a man’s voice since Terence. Not before. Not after. Just Terence. But the mere thought of that Ghosthole is enough for me to mentally promise myself I won’t think about him again tonight. Or ever. But at least right now I have the perfect distraction.
“I thought I’d test out the rink,” I tell Hockey Hottie—who I really can’t keep calling that, even just in my head. Not unless I want to risk blurting it aloud. “I’m Zoelle Wynter. Zoe for short.”
“Wynter, eh?” He lets out a deep, throaty chuckle that I can feel right down to my toes.
Then he extends one large hand, palm up. For a second, I think he wants me to cross the distance between us to shake it. But then he looks up at the sky and watches as the snowflakes drift down onto his skin. They melt against his bare palm and suddenly, I want to melt against his palm, too. To feel his hands all over me. To see what those long fingers of his can do.
I don’t think I’ve ever had such a strong reaction to a man. Not at first sight. I’ve had one-night stands before, but I’ve never wanted to strip a man naked outdoors, in the dead of winter. Or wondered if a hockey player might want to do any other type of scoring on the ice.
“Leaf,” he calls out.
“What?” I stare up at him, wondering if I just zoned out on half of what he was saying. Why else would he be talking about leaves? Unless he means the Maple Leafs? But why even bring up a human hockey team, when as far as the NHL is concerned, supe teams—and supe players—do not exist?
“My name.” He rewards me with a throaty chuckle. “Scottish mother. Jewish father.”
“And they called you Leaf?”
“Leith, with a TH.” He grins as he spells it out for me. “It actually means wet. So nothing to do with leaves.”
“Wet,” I repeat and swallow hard.
Leith rewards me with a knowing grin. One that has my body reacting in… well… the way his name would entail.
“It’s Leith Rogowsky,” he adds. “Nice to meet you, Zoe Wynter.”
“You too. I’m surprised I haven’t run into you before. In town, I mean.”
“Haven’t been here long.” He grabs his duffel bag and relocates to sit next to me. And he’s even bigger up close. His shoulders are broader, his legs longer, and his biceps… I swallow hard. Because I’m pretty sure he’s not wearing padding beneath that jersey of his, which means he’s all muscle. And he could probably lift me. With one arm. Above his head.
Then again, if I used a bit of magic—and a properly placed object—I could easily lift him above my head. And a lot higher than he can lift me… unless he has magic, too.
“I only got traded into the Blades this season,” he tells me. “Used to play for the Maple Ridge Meese.”
“Meese? Shouldn’t it be Moose?”
“That’s actually a common misconception.” He grins. “But the Meese aren’t named after the animal. They’re named after the shifter.”
“Is there a difference?” I ask.
“Between moose shifters and wild animals?” Leith raises an eyebrow.
“Oh no, I didn’t mean to insult you. I didn’t realize you were a moose shifter. And I’d never call you a wild animal—”
“I’m not a moose shifter.” Leith chuckles and nudges my shoulder with his. And even through his jersey and my parka, I feel heat course through me. “And I was just teasing you, Wynter.”
“Oh.” My cheeks flush, and him calling me by my last name catches me off guard.
Ever since I quit the academy, I’ve been going by Zoe. I’d wanted to forget the years I spent going by Wynter, but somehow, my last name on his lips feels right. Makes me feel like he sees me—the real me—and not the cheerful, happy-go-lucky person I’ve been trying to be since I’ve arrived in Silver Springs.
I know it sounds completely absurd, since I only just met the man, but I feel like I can open up with him. Like I can show him the real me. Not just pretend.
“The Maple Ridge Meese are like the Toronto Maple Leafs,” Leith says, completely unaware of my train of thought.
“The human team?” I frown.
“I’m explaining this badly, aren’t I?” Leith chuckles. “Okay, so the Maple Leafs aren’t named after the plant. If they were, they’d be the Maple Leaves. But they’re Maple Leafs because they’re named after the Maple Leaf World War 1 regiment. And it’s the same with the Meese.”
“They’re named after a regiment?”
“No.” Leith bursts out laughing. “They’re named after Meese.”
“That makes absolutely no sense.”
“The shifters. They’re Meese. The plural for the animal moose is moose. But the plural for moose shifters is Meese.”
“Since when?” I watch his face carefully to try to figure out if he’s messing with me. But all I can see are blue eyes crinkling at the edges and lips I want to feel against my own.
“I’m guessing you’ve never met any Meese?”
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” I shake my head. “I don’t think I’ve met any. But if I have, we didn’t get around to talking about grammar.”
“Fair enough.” Leith gives me a slow smile. “Do you go skating a lot?”
“First time here.” I smile. “How about you?”
Then I realize I’d just asked a hockey player, and my cheeks flush.
“I mean…” I quickly try to think of something less stupid to ask. “What do you do when you’re not skating?”
Leith laughs. “Not much. Mostly just hang out at the Inn.”
“The Royal Inn? Don’t you have to be like super mega rich to stay there?”
Leith snorts.
“Sorry. Don’t answer that. Now I sound like a gold digger.”
Leith smirks and leans a little closer. “So does that mean you’re into me?”
“I might be.” I tease him right back. “Why? Do you want me to be?”
“A sexy girl in skates? Hell yeah.”
“Technically, I’m not in skates yet. And once I put these on, you might change your mind.”
“Don’t think I would,” he drawls. “And I could teach you to skate. It would give me an excuse to hold you and show you exactly how to move.”