Laughing, I swipe my card against the door reader and let myself in the arena. “I’ve gotta go. I’ll call you later.”
“No. Don’t call me later. Go out and have fun. One of us has to.”
“Bye, E. Don’t die on me today.”
He makes a cross over his heart before he ends the call.
I stop in Coach’s office to let her know I’m here and then head out to the ice.
“You,” I say when I spot Rhett at one end stretching out.
“Hey,” he says tentatively.
I shake my head. “Seriously? Every time I think I have this place to myself.”
He stands tall and skates toward me. “I could say the same thing about you. Plus, I was here first this time.”
“Can’t a girl get a little peace and quiet?”
He smiles but doesn’t answer.
“I guess you can stay,” I say like I’m the boss of this place. He smirks. “Just… promise not to run me over.”
He grimaces. “You’d think that’d be an easy thing to promise, but I’ll just say I’ll do my best.”
“I forgot my headphones, so I’m going to play music over the speakers,” I say as I skate to the opposite side.
“Sure, yeah, whatever. Pretend I’m not here.”
Which is exactly what he does to me. He doesn’t spare another glance in my direction as he starts skating around his half. I put the music on and fall into my routine. I go through it twice—once without jumps and the second all out. When I finish, I grab a drink and check my heart rate before I forget about my routine and just skate for myself. The cool air hits my face as I move, whichever way the music takes me. Everything feels lighter here. My legs, my arms. It’s like flying as I move across the ice. Freedom.
My gaze falls to Rhett. He skates around the net, and our eyes meet for just a moment. He gives me his back again and continues shooting pucks into the net, and I do another half circle before I skate toward him.
“Can I try?” I motion toward his stick.
He straightens and pulls his bottom lip behind his teeth, watching me. “This feels like a trap. You’re not going to hit me with it again, are you?”
Rolling my eyes, I say, “No. It just looks sort of therapeutic the way you’re firing shots at the net.”
“I thought you wanted peace and quiet.”
“So did I.”
He hands over the stick. “Do you know what you’re doing?”
I line up with the stick behind the puck. “How hard could it be?”
I eat my words as I hit the puck, and it glides slowly along the ice stopping less than three feet in front of us.
“Harder than it looks, eh?” He grins. “Try again. Put your ass into it.” He squints, looks up. “I’m just realizing how that sounds when it’s not Coach saying it to a bunch of guys.”
“It sounds weird either way. I thought it was all in the wrist and shoulders.”
His brows raise and he cocks his head to the side.
“My little sister plays hockey,” I explain.
Nodding, he steps closer. His scent—a mixture of sweat and some masculine smelling soap wraps around me.
“Move your right hand down a little lower.”
My fingers inch down the stick. I look to him for approval.
“That’s it. Now turn your body at more of an angle.”
This is one of those moments where he could totally put his hands on my hips and show me. He doesn’t, sadly. I shoot again, and this time the puck makes it all the way. It doesn’t go in, my aim is crap, but it slides past the goal line, so that’s something.
I hand his stick back. “Not as therapeutic when it doesn’t go in.”
He lines up, shoots, and the puck sails down into the net and dings against the back pole. There’s a twinkle in his eye as he looks to me. “There’s nothing better than that sound.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“I guess so,” he says slowly.
“What scenario leads a girl to wake you up screaming while naked? Wait, were you naked or was she?”
He chuckles softly, closes his eyes, and shakes his head. “You’ve been thinking about that since we met, haven’t you?”
“Pretty much.”
He sucks that bottom lip behind his teeth again before answering. “We were both naked.”
“Okay, so why does that lead to screaming?” I’m doing a pretty good job of envisioning a naked Rhett. He’s just over six feet by my best guess. He’s filled out but not bulky. I can clearly see the muscles in his arms stretching the fabric of his shirt. My eyes drop to his crotch. Maybe he’s not packing? But would that make me scream? Run away, maybe, but not scream.
He catches me checking him out, and my face heats, but he doesn’t call me on it. “We were naked,” he says slowly, then pauses. “And I fell asleep.”
“Oh.” My eyes widen. “Ohhhh.”
“Yeah.” He takes another shot. This one goes in but doesn’t make that magical sound he mentioned.
“So, then what happened?”
“Then I came here and got yelled at for sleeping again.” He winks and skates toward the net to collect the pucks.
“Oh, come on. That’s all I get? Where are all the details?”
“You know, you’re chatty for someone who wanted to be left alone.”
“I can’t help it. Your retelling of the story really sold me,” I say, sarcasm dripping from my tone.
He stops in front of me and grins, then rests both hands at the top of his stick. “You’re a good skater. You said you have a show coming up. When?”
“You’re changing the subject.”
“Yeah, because it’s humiliating. You have enough dirt on me already.”
“Yes, there’s a competition coming up, but the truth is I just like being on the ice by myself.”
“I get that,” he says.
“Do you mean all the way naked?”
Shaking his head, his deep laughter echoes in the empty rink. “Naked enough.”
“How does that happen? Logistically.”
“Well, you see,” he starts in a serious tone. “When two people are attracted to one another—”
“I know how that happens. I want to know how you fell asleep? Do you have some sort of sleeping disorder?”
He’s still laughing and smiling at me in a way that makes my heart rate climb. I skate to the wall and jump to sit, taking long, even breaths. He follows, and I share my water with him. He squirts it into his mouth and hands it back.
We’re quiet, sitting together and staring out at the empty rink. This is the quiet I was looking for when I got up this morning and decided to head to the rink early, but I’m the first to break the silence.
“In third grade, I fell asleep on the bus home from school. The driver got all the way back to school before he realized I was still in my seat. My parents had to come get me. Super embarrassing.”
“Only mildly embarrassing by comparison to the circumstances in which I fell asleep.”
“Well, I wouldn’t know since I haven’t heard the whole story.”
He drops his head and runs a hand along his jaw. “I was at a party. We started drinking as soon as the bus got back from the quarterfinals. I think I slept two hours that night, and then we got up for drivers and donuts, and by noon I was done. I caught a ride back to my apartment with some buddies. She followed. I actually thought she was into my friend, but then she started kissing me, and she came into my room. I was so tired.”