Kincaid nodded slowly, his eyes still on me. “And dinner last night?”
My stomach twisted. “He asked if I wanted to grab food. Show him around the city since he’s new here.”
“That was generous of you.”
There was something in his voice—something I couldn’t quite identify but that made the space between us feel heavier than it should. I wanted to ask what he was really asking, why he cared, why he’d looked at me in that restaurant like seeing me with Odin had cost him something.
But I didn’t. Because I’d already tried to kiss him once and been rejected, and I wasn’t going to make that mistake again.
“He’s Nicky’s boss,” I said stiffly, irritated. “Seemed like the polite thing to do.”
“Of course.” Kincaid was quiet for a moment, and I watched something shift across his face—too fast for me to read, gone before I could name it.
He looked like he wanted to say something else. His mouth opened slightly, his eyes holding mine for a long moment that stretched between us like a physical thing. Then whatever he’d been about to say died unspoken.
“Get some rest,” he said finally. “No practice tomorrow as it’s game day.”
“Yeah. See you then, Coach.”
I made it to the locker room before my hands started shaking. Sat down on the bench in front of my stall and tried to process what had just happened.
Kincaid had seen me with Odin. Well, I knew that.
I pulled out my phone and stared at it, trying to decide if I was overthinking this. Probably I was overthinking this. Probably he’d just been making conversation, and I was reading meaning into it because I wanted there to be meaning.
My phone buzzed. A text from Odin:Thanks again for last night. Let me know if you want to do it again sometime.
I stared at that message for a long moment, thinking about the kiss, about the way Kincaid had looked at me this morning, about the fact that I was apparently incapable of making good decisions about my personal life.
Finally, I typed back:Had a good time. Talk soon.
Noncommittal. Safe. Exactly what I should be.
I showered, changed, and headed out to catch a ride home. The sun was fully up now, Denver waking around me, and I tried not to think about the fact it was the game tomorrow, and yet half of me wanted more training. More time that Coach could put his hands on my hips.
This was fine. I was fine. I could handle this.
I just had to keep telling myself that until it became true.
Chapter fifteen
Overtime - Additional time played to decide a tied game.
Theron
I stood behind the bench watching warmups, my hands gripping the boards hard enough that my knuckles had gone white. Game five. The series was tied 2-2. Max was still out—his wrist had healed faster than even dragon physiology usually allowed, which suggested his emotions were running high enough to accelerate the process, but we had no choice but tokeep him out for optics. Julian was still out with the concussion, and Dante was dressing for his second playoff game.
I watched him circle the ice with the rest of the team. He looked good—confident in a way he hadn’t been two days ago, his movements fluid and controlled. The work we’d done over the last two mornings was showing.
The fact that I’d barely slept since seeing him with Odin Clark was irrelevant.
“Quite the storyline tonight, wouldn’t you say?”The play-by-play announcer’s voice filtered through the arena speakers as they did their pre-game setup. I could see them in the press box, two levels up, probably going through their notes.
“Absolutely, Mike,”the color analyst replied.“Dante Russo on the lineup, and it’s his second game against the team that traded him nearly three months ago. That’s got to be emotional.”
“He’s been practicing with the team this week after recovering from that incident in Chicago.”
“The question is whether he’s ready for this moment. Playoff hockey against your former team after an injury—that’s a lot of pressure for a twenty-three-year-old.”
