With a little curl of my lips, I pushed out onto the surface and felt myself relax for the first time since…well, since the last time I made time to skate.
I’d worn my favorite leggings and a turquoise sweatshirt with the Terrors’ snarling viper logo, and my hair was up in a ponytail. The outfit was a deliberate choice: the leggings mademefeel comfortable, and the logo was to set Kardok at ease.
Kardok.
Yesterday I’d seen him in the hallway, waiting to speak to Maddie. Heck, I’d probably seen himrightbefore she broke the news to him about this ice dancing exhibition scheme.
If I’d been brave enough, I would have said somethingwelcoming, something about looking forward to working with him.
But instead, when I’d glanced up and seen him standing there—innocent and clueless—I was suddenly hit with a vision of him on the ice, all raw power and primal sexuality, and that thing he does with his tongue. And I blushed.
I’m the kind of gal who, once I start to blush, keeps blushing until I look like a tomato.
Yesterday was very much a tomato sort of experience.
I’d walked down that hall, trying my best to appear professional and nonchalant, thinking maybe I’d even nod to Kardok, like I was only mildly aware of him as a player… And instead I apparently decided the floor was completely fascinating as I felt the heat crawl up my chest to my throat and cheeks.
Idiot.
Maybe he hadn’t noticed?
Maybe he wouldn’t even show up today. No, Maddie had sent me a thumbs-up text this morning, so I assumed we were on. I’d spent the morning brainstorming ideas for this exhibition, but really, the choreography depended on Kardok’s skills.
Oh, he was talented, but could I expect him to spin and leap? Forget a lutz, could the male do aspinwithout falling over?
I glanced at the large clock on the wall. I supposed I’d find out soon.
If only my body could decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing. My heart was hammering in my chest as my stomach knotted. Anticipation and nervousness. Basically the hallmarks of my life.
One more lap, which I ended on a long back edge, arms out, and I felt myself exhale, finally—maybe?—sinking into something approaching comfortable. I glanced at the clock, saw it tick over to the twelve, and glanced to the bench.
He was here.
I didn’t fall over.
Go, me.
Instead, I reminded myself that I was an adult with a professional adult job, and I could do this. I could.
Plastering a polite smile on my face, I skated over.
Kardok was wearing a pair of compression practice pants and a t-shirt with the logo of one of the local orc-run breweries, and his hair was wet. I supposed if he’d been scrimmaging with the team, he would have showered.
I watched a drop of water skim along one of the strands of his hair he hadn’t shoved up into his sexy topknot, and realized my mouth was watering.
Focus.
Right. I blinked. “Hello,” I managed. “I’m Lila.”
Good manners dictated I offer him my hand for a shake, but years of etiquette courses apparently had gone rightout the window, because I remembered that a little too late.
Kardok’s expression was carefully neutral as he dropped his bag beside my binder. “Kardok. Nice to meet you.”
He didn’t sound thrilled to be here.
Can you blame him? He probably thinks he just signed up for more humiliation.
The reminder of that bellow of pain from the penalty box brought on a surge of sympathy for him, and that, more than anything, relaxed me. My shoulders crawled down from their position around my ears, and I offered him a small smile.
