Page 76 of Melt the Ice

Laughter fills the room as Hannah’s text simultaneously makes everyone’s phone ping.

Lucas: Oh my God, Hannah, come get him. He’s driving us insane.

Sammy: Seriously, if he doesn’t stop, he’s going to turn into an actual ping pong ball.

Wilder: I’d like to see you assholes when the woman you love is in danger.

Reed: Monroe’s woman is in more danger than yours is, and he has cucumbers on his eyelids.

Reed:

Hannah: Dozer, take a page from your roommate.

Wilder: I’m trying here, Kitten. But, damn. You really should have come with me.

Hannah: No, I’m right where I’m supposed to be. I love you, but other than throwing a punch, which would be entirely unhelpful unless it was close combat, you can’t do anything.

Wilson: Shots Fired.

Andrews: BURN!

Wilder: I hate all of you.

A knock on our door has all six of our heads snapping toward it. “Did you order anything?” Wilder asks as I pull a cucumber off my eye. My head shakes against the soft fabric of the pillow I propped myself up on.

The knock comes again. Sammy, being the tallest, and Wilson, being the broadest, walk to the door. The second it opens, they’re laughing. When they pull the door open further, Abby, Hannah, Scarlett, and Tate walk in. “Lettie Girl!” I yell as I throw my arms open.

“Hi,” she whispers as she tucks herself into me.

Wilder all but tackles Hannah, “Oh, thank God.”

“As glad as we all are to see you guys, what happened to the plan?” Wilson asks as he slides onto the end of the couch, crossing his ankle over his knee.

Abby explains what Elliott said about the ranch being a direct threat and that her dad would likely go after the ranch in an attempt to get everything to stop. But there was nothing they could do at home to stop it, so they decided to come to our game.

“Listen, don’t get your hopes up. Tate’s staying in here with you two.” Abby snickers as Tate grunts. “We’re having a girls' trip.”

I flop back against the bed, pulling Lettie with me. “Oh, come on!” My bottom lip pushes out as I give them my best puppy dog eyes. I hate that thought, that she’s here, so close yet out of reach. I want her next to me all night. I want to wake up with her leg thrown over my hip, the smell of her vanilla shampoo all up in my nose.

“Nope,” Lettie pats my chest, “This is girls' weekend, we just so happen to be going to a hockey game. My first hockey game.”

I gasp, how could I have forgotten she’s never gone to a hockey game before?

“May I offer you an authentic Markus Samuels jersey?” My teammate chides as his tongue pushes against his lip, turning the small silver ring. His eyebrows dance across his forehead as Lettie attempts to smother her own laugh.

“I think the hell not!” The pitch of my voice is so high I almost think my balls have removed themselves. “My girl. My jersey.” My arms tighten around her waist.

She giggles, “Actually, I have my own to wear.”

My brows furrow, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Her finger taps against the tip of my nose, “You’ll find out tomorrow.” She presses a chaste kiss to my lips before climbing out of my lap despite my protests. “Get some sleep. See you boys, tomorrow.”

Despite both Wilder brothers and my own grumbles, they walk out the door without so much as telling us their room number. They’re smart, those three. Had they told us, one of us, if not all of us, would have been in there by the end of the night.

The smell of her shampoo lingers on my pillow. Burying my face in it, I take a deep inhale. “The rest of you, get out. I need to sleep so I can hold my girl again.”

The thunk of the door latch is the last thing I hear before I drift off, dreaming of my girl in the stands. This is the first game of my entire hockey career that I’ll have someone in the stands for me.