Page 66 of With the Assist

I let it drop, sensing that he doesn’t want to say more. My feet follow the path that his blades have left behind, and he slows to match my pace.

The arena feels impossibly big and impossibly small at the same time with him standing right next to me.

“Okay, let’s see how fast you really are.” I stop at the end of the ice, nodding toward the length of the arena.

“You want to race?” He lifts a brow.

“Yeah, I want to fucking race.” I nod enthusiastically.

This is where I thrive. Competition.

“I don’t know.” He rubs the back of his neck, clearly worried about blowing me out of the water.

He will. I know he will, but also one day, when this is all over, I want to be able to say I raced one of the best hockey players of all time, and he barely beat me. That’s my goal. Barely lose.

“It’s a win-win for me,” I tease. “Either I win, and I get to say I beat an NHL player in a race. Or I lose, which is what’s expected anyway.”

He laughs, tossing his head back. The way it echoes around me scratches a part of my brain that I hadn’t realized needed it.

“You really want to race me?” He skates back against the wall, crossing his arms.

“Unless you’re scared.”

“God, that smart mouth of yours.” His eyes darken, focusing on my mouth.

My heart skips involuntarily. I can’t seem to keep my senses around him, so I settle for turning away and getting into position.

“What’ll it be, Wilder?”

“If I win, you have to admit that this was a good idea.”

“What do I get if I win?” I raise my eyebrows.

He meets my eyes and holds them. “Anything you want.”

18

Nathan

My lungs burn.

I glide in a slow arc, hands over my head, chest heaving. The scrape of my blades echoes in the empty rink. Sweat is trickling down my spine under my sweatshirt.

Across the ice, Wesley bends at the waist, palms braced on her knees. Her ponytail has half-fallen out, strands plastered to her cheek. She’s breathing as hard as I am.

For a second, neither of us says anything.

Then she straightens and calls across the ice. “Alright. I’ll admit it. This was a good idea!”

My hands drop to my hips as I huff out a laugh.

Before turning toward her, I coast backward for a few strides. I didn’t realize how hard I’d pushed until now.

She wasn’t supposed to be that close.

Halfway down the rink, I’d expected space. I wasn’t going full out, figuring that she’d be so far behind I could take it easy. Instead, I felt her there, close enough that I could hear her edges dig in when she took the corner too tight.

I underestimated her.