Page 23 of Crack the Ice

Damn athletes and their desire to constantly be moving. It’s nice out though, so I’ll indulge. “Okay, you can tell me how your season’s going.”

He nods thoughtfully. I don’t know a whole lot about lacrosse. Kelsey tried to teach me a thing or two over the years, but nothing ever really stuck with me.

“It’s going well so far. I mean, I’m thankful that the college works with me around that schedule. It’s hard being a professional athlete and having another job. But coaching the college team certainly is one of the better gigs out of all my teammates.”

My steps slow a bit. “I didn’t know you coached, too. When did that start?”

“Last year. The salary from playing in the league isn’t enough to live on like it is for most other sports. Plus, we don’t get together outside of the season, you know, June through September, and even then, we’re only together Thursday through Sunday. It’s like a traveling circus, where everyone has lives in different parts of the country, and then we’re expected to mesh like we spend all our time together.”

That sounds complicated. “How does that work? I mean, where do you play? Is there a schedule? How are you not being paid enough, and how on earth do you guys know how to work as a team if you don’t have practice on a regular basis?”

His shoulders shake with silent laughter, while he brings his straw to his lips and sucks hard. His eyes widen, and I feel my smile growing in time with them. His cup crinkles as his grip on the flimsy plastic tightens.

I take my own sip, but my coffee barely has time to hit my tongue before a violent cough escapes him. He beats his chest with a closed fist, his face turning the lightest shade of pink.

“You good there, buddy?”

He glares at the cup like it personally betrayed him before he brings his watery gaze back to me. “Holy shit, this is strong.” He licks his lips, but then hesitantly takes another sip. “Why can’t I stop drinking it?” His face puckers and wretches to the side.

That’s my breaking point. My knees wobble slightly, and I bend at the waist as my hands grip my knees to stay upright as the laughter tears free from my chest. Soon, Hix’s wheezing laugh is mixed with mine. My ribs ache, my stomach muscles tight like I just spent all morning going through my brother’s ridiculous ab routine.

“Oh, God.” I quickly swipe under my eyes to pick up any stray tears before my hand lands on his forearm as I straighten myself out. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh at you, but that face was priceless.”

His smile falls into something softer, goofy almost. “I’m glad my face can bring you some joy, Cess. It’s been a while since I’ve heard you laugh like that.”

My gaze falls to the ground. I know. It’s been a long time since anything has made me want to laugh like that. Part of the healing process, I know, but damn, it feels good to let it loose.

“Yeah, well, that’s because it’s not your job to make her laugh, Hix.”

My head whips to the side, hand falling from Hix’s arm. Of all the places… I lock eyes with Mav, crossing my arms over my chest as a power struggle silently flows between us.

“Last I checked, it wasn’t yours either, Maverick.”

He steps in closer, reaching to tuck my hair behind my ear, but pulls away at the last second. “It’s always been my job, Cecy.”

Part of me wants to fight him, wants to tell him to get lost, but a bigger part of me wants to keep this light and airy feeling around for a bit longer.

I roll my eyes, letting my hands fall to the side. “You’re not the only one who can make me laugh, Mavy. Hix just got his first hit of Cefé con leche. He’s now among the land of the enlightened.”

There’s a crack in his armor that landed with that nickname, but he doesn’t let his guard fully down. Probably for the best, considering Lake and Lana saddle up behind Hix and me only for Lana to open her big ass mouth.

“Oh, hey Mavy. We were just having a double date.”

My head snaps in her direction as a growl rumbles through Mav. Ah shit. Why is that so hot?

“A date?” he grinds out.

Lana, ever the oblivious person in the room, nods. “Yeah, you know where you get coffee and talk about your life. Hopes and dreams.” She pauses to look her brother up and down. “Maybe you should try it.”

It’s my turn to growl, and the noise startles the hell out of me. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, I think Mav is the only one to hear it.

“No,” he says before looking at me. “Can I talk to you?”

“Sure.” I take a sip of my coffee, waiting for him to elaborate.

He lets out an exasperated sigh, looking up toward the sky as if this entire interaction is an inconvenience. I don’t even know where he came from.

“Alone, Cecy.”