He remained as still as a statue while I attempted to bypass him.
“You still have not told me your name.”
“That’s on a need-to-know basis.”
“Then I will have to come up with another for you. Silver Eyes, great skater, light sleeper.”
I rolled my silver eyes.
He smiled. And whoa—that changed things. I wasn’t sure what exactly, but a whole new world suddenly came online.
“Could I …?” I gestured to some point behind him.
He stood back. Barely an inch separated us as I walked by.
“Sleep well, Silver Eyes.”
I was glad he couldn’t see my smile. A boy that arrogant needed no encouragement from me.
Chapter Nine
Lauren
* * *
Whack!
The puck found the net, which was easy enough to achieve when you were the only one on the ice. Six in the morning was my favorite time. Fresh ice, an eerie quiet, and no one else to disturb you. Or so I thought.
I was cheering for myself after another stellar plug into the basket when I heard a soft clap. Alexei Nazarov stood off to the side in warm-up gear. I hadn’t seen much of him in the last month, just in passing at Brewski’s, UM’s local watering hole, where he was inevitably surrounded by girls who knew little about hockey and everything about attracting a boy like Nazarov.
“Thought I was alone.”
“Evidently.” He skated over with that super-smooth glide that was his trademark. I’d attended a few games—in solidarity with Jason, of course—since Nazarov came on board and had to practically sit on my hands so no one would get the wrong idea. I was turning into a superfan, and that would not do.
“You come out here regularly?” he asked as he closed the gap.
“I like the quiet.”
“And I am disturbing you.”
I shook my head. “I don’t own the rink.”
“I think you might. You played well the other night. Better than well.” He skated around me, a full circle that might have made any other girl dizzy. I wanted to think I wasn’t like those girls, who slobbered at the feet of a Russian hockey god. But I was no different.
I suspected I was faster than him, though.
“Let’s see what you’ve got.” I pushed the puck toward him.
He pushed it back. “I will be careful not to check you.”
“Oh, don’t go easy on me, Ass-arov.”
And he didn’t. He wasn’t overly physical, but there was no pulling his pucks either. I was right in thinking I was faster, but he was stronger. Years of evolution, and all that. He didn’t let me score, and I didn’t let him get away with a thing. We both came out satisfied.
Sort of.
I grabbed my water from the bench. I usually closed my eyes while I drank, and when I opened them, I found him watching me. He didn’t bother dropping eye contact, either.
