On our next shift, Ferrara falls on his ass, his legs going out from under him. He recovers quickly, but the Flames picked his pocket and snagged possession. One of the Flames gets a shot off, and there’s a scramble in front of the net but it’s cleared out by Raine.
The tide is turning against us. The Flames are picking up momentum and with each play we seem shakier. On our feet, on the blue line, the only thing holding us up right now is Ares between the pipes.
Scott’s on his knees. That was a big block kneeling on the ice and from the wince on his face it hurt like hell. A turnover at center ice brings possession back to us, and we aren’t fucking it up. Flanking Ferrara as he skates to the goal, I coverhis wing. He passes it to me before getting in closer to the net to find a better position.
Back to Ferrara, Apollo now joins us in front of the crease. We’re chipping at the puck, but it feels like it’s not actually going anywhere. I try to toe-drag it around and break away but there’s not enough gas in the tank to make it happen.
My limbs are like lead.
A stupid ricochet from the back wall misses the Flame’s stick and meets mine. Stepping out in front of the net, I’ve got nothing but time. The goaltender’s on his face, their defenders are marked and pushing my teammates, and if I miss this shot I’ll be laughed off the ice.
The puck sails easily into the net. It’s a goal anyone could have made, but the stars aligned to make it mine. I search the club for my redheaded firecracker, but her seat’s empty.
She’s gone.
The rest of the game happens to me, around me. I’m not an active part of it, despite not missing a shift and chalking up another assist, my mind is elsewhere.
Is Victoria okay? Did something happen to Wyatt that she had to leave? Is he okay? Should I call her? At least text, right? I mean, offer my help if something happened to him? It’s the least I can do.
Stepping out onto the street after the game, I make a beeline for my car. My body feels heavy, there’s a knot in my chest, and I don’t know what the fuck to do. There are no messages on my screen, no missed calls, just silence, and it’s deafening.
Familiar curves and loose red waves meet me at the side of my car. It takes all I have not to rush to her and check she’s okay. She seems it, other than the scowl darkening her features.
“Are you okay?” I stop a few feet from her to give her space and drop my hockey bag to the ground.
She crosses her arms and somehow her frowny face gets frownier under the street lights. “Why are you still playing hockey?” She purses her lips, tension radiating from her person, but I have no idea why. She’s picking a fight with me over hockey?
“I…uh… Better question.” I hold up a finger. “Why wouldn’t I play hockey?”
“Because you could get hurt.”
A match flares to life in my chest, a flame flickering and warming my body. She cares. She’s worried. And despite believing I abandoned her and our kid a few years ago, she doesn’t want to run me over with a Zamboni. This is all fucking amazing news and makes me want to dance.
But her face tells me if I dance, I will die.
“Is that why you left? You were worried I’d get hurt?”
“This isn’t about me.” She waves a hand with a flick of her wrist. “This is about you. Why are you being an idiot? You shouldn’t be on the ice. You could really hurt yourself. Youdidreally hurt yourself. Your memories are gone, Raffi. Does your coach know that? Do your teammates? Do they know how dangerous it is to skate around like you do just waiting to get your face shoved into the glass?”
There’s nothing I can say right now to calm her fears. I know this, because they’re the same fears I push down deep in my chest every single time I step out onto the ice. It’s easier to ignore them when it’s just me. I can pretend I’m exaggerating or overreacting, convince myself it’s no big deal. I’m doing what I love to do to secure a future for myself and a better future for my family than they’ve had.
“I’m scared, Raffi.” She rubs her forearms with her palms. “I don’t know you all that well, but it doesn’t matter. We have a child together now, and if you want to be part of our lives, you’ve got to step up and show us you’re not going to disappearagain. Or forget about us.” The way her voice breaks on her last sentence crushes my soul.
She turns to leave, and I pounce forward. “Wait, Victoria, please?”
Hesitation slows her feet, allowing me to grab her arm and turn her to face me. The temptation to kiss her senseless without asking permission is strong, because if she says no to me right now I might die. Actual, heart-stopping death.
But I wait, cupping her face in both my hands and staring at her lips like they hold the key to the universe. Please don’t turn me away, Tori. Please. Silent pleading, heart in a vise, breath stopped right at the back of my throat.
Her breath is heavy in the silence, her eyes flickering between my lips and my eyes. She wants to kiss me, but until I have her explicit permission, I’m not making a move.
“Raffi.” My name sounds painful as it falls from her quivering lips. Her hesitation is short lived. She grabs my shirt and pulls me toward her, our lips colliding in an explosion of strawberries and cinnamon.
Her kiss is cautious at first, timid. Maybe she’s not sure I want to kiss her, or she’s not sure she wants to kiss me, but her lips are pressed against mine and I’m not wasting it. Backing her up until she bumps into the side of my car, I pin her with my body.
“Raffi.” This time my name sounds more like a plea than pain. Is she pleading for more or for me to stop? Her breathy voice speaks straight to my cock, and there’s no controlling that thing as it pokes into her. There’s also no hiding what she’s doing to me.
She melts against me, quiet moans dropping from her mouth between hungry kisses. Her lips are velvet soft, her tongue firm and curious, and her fists grip my shirt in tight balls. She’s not letting me go until she’s done with me, and I’m absolutely okay with that. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
