Page 63 of Against The Boards

“I’ve got you, okay? I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you.”

“I’m scared,” she admitted in a small voice.

I hugged her to my chest and stroked her hair. To my surprise, she didn’t struggle in my arms but sighed into my chest. I glanced down and saw her eyes were closed. “I’m sorry; I’m being pushy. I love this sport, and I know you love it too, and I want to help you.”

She pulled back and fixed me with her signature glare. “I don’t think I’m ready.”

“You gotta do it sometime,” I argued.

“I don’t want to get hurt again!”

“Oh, angel, you won’t. You miss the game, right?”

“Duh!”

“And being on the ice? Cutting the blades of your skates into the ice?”

She nodded in recognition. She got it. She understood what it was like being on the ice. It was like no one could touch me, like I was flying.

I held out my hand to her. “Then let’s get you on the ice. No hockey, just skating. Okay? You can tell me if you really don’t want to, and we’ll go home right now.”

She stared at my hand, and when I thought she was going to knock it away and insult me like normal, she slipped her hand in mine. We walked into the rink together, and I let go of her hand so I could rent a pair of skates. I found her staring at the empty rink with her laces tied up when I joined her.

“You ready to get out on the ice, bad girl?” I asked.

“Stop calling me that,” she growled out.

I grabbed her wrist and kissed her tattoo. When I kissed her wrist, she stopped yelling at me. “Enough,” I said.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” she spat.

I raised an eyebrow and licked my lips. “If you’re a good girl, I’ll give you a beard ride when we get home.”

Her face went paler than normal, and I laughed.

I sat next to her on the bench and laced up my skates. She took my offered hand, and we took to the ice together.

She yanked her hand away as she pushed off and sped across the ice. I stood against the boards and watched in awe as she soared across the surface. The grin on her face got wider as her feet crisscrossed across the surface, and she did laps around it. Damn, she was fast. She never looked more beautiful to me than right then while she was racing off across the ice. This was her happy place. I had never seen a smile on her face so big before.

She raced up to me and did an abrupt hockey stop in front of me, spraying ice across my jeans. She had a wicked grin on her face, but I couldn’t stay mad at her because her hazel eyes sparkled with joy.

“We come here to skate or what, big guy?” she teased.

I didn’t hate it when she called me that; it amused me. I crossed my arms over my chest. “Oh, you think you’re funny, huh?”

She stuck her tongue out at me and tore off again. I took my phone out and shot some video of her on the ice so she could see what I saw. Then I put my phone away and raced after her. She was wicked fast, but I knew I could be faster.

I caught up to her and put my arms around her waist. “Hey!” she yelled in protest.

“Rox, you’re so fast,” I breathed out.

She shrugged.

I smiled at her, loving that she was letting me hold her hand while we cooled down on the ice. “You look great on the ice, like you never left it.”

“Dad got us on the ice and in skates as soon as possible.”

“You mean you didn’t come out of the womb with ice skates on and a hockey stick in your hand?”