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"A Kindle?" I know I’m parroting what he’s saying, but I’m finding this entire conversation so otherworldly. This big, rough, grumphole has a grandma who reads spicy books and he bought her a Kindle. Have I been kidnapped by aliens and now I’m living in an alternative world? As long as they're aliens with two penises, I don’t mind. Also, ugh, what’s this fascination with DP? Where the hell did it come from?
"Her old Kindle was on the verge of dying, so I bought her a top-of-the-line, Kindle paperwhite, the kind you can read—"
"In the sun and which is also waterproof, I know. I have one, too."
"You do?"
"I prefer paperbacks because I can annotate them, though. I often end up carrying my fave ones around so I can read them over and over again. Comfort reads, you know?"
He looks at me with a strange expression on his face.
"What?" I snap.
"You findWar and Peacea comfort read?"
Oh, that? I blush a little. "I have many comfort reads." I evade the question.
"If you don’t want to tell me, that’s okay." He raises his hands.
"Reading tastes are personal, you know? It’s the one time I can escape my daily worries and not worry about being judged. When I’m between the pages of a book, I can be anyone I want."And, I can have as many orgasms as I want, with the help of smutty words and my trusted Dan.It’s one of my favorite parts of the day—when I can relax in a bathtub and read with a glass of wine and my toys. More than once, my Kindle has fallen into the bath water, which is why I got a waterproof one. Not that I’m going to share all of these details with him.
"It’s not often I find someone who not only loves to read, but who also knows what they like to read, ya know?"
I nod. No way am I ever admitting to you the kinds of books I prefer to read. Not that I have a hankering for a hot man in a mask chasing after me, only to catch me and fuck me until I can’t see straight. No, no way, am I telling this grumphole what my secret fantasy is. I pull up my phone and exclaim. "Omigod, look at the time, don’t you need to be back for practice?"
He rises to his feet. "Are you going to watch?"
* * *
"Gio, right?"
I glance sideways at the lanky man who’s come up to stand next to me. Like everyone else on the team he’s tall, over six-feet for sure but unlike the players he’s lean and lanky, like he went through a growth spurt and never put on weight.
"And you are?"
"Nathan Pitt." He holds out her arm.
"The physical therapist?" I place my hand in his much bigger one. He squeezes gently, his touch careful.
"C’est moi."He dips his head.
"French?"
"Canadian.” He nods toward the game in progress on the rink. "Spectacular, isn’t it?"
I turn back to watch the men zip around the ice. They’re on skates but, whoa, they might as well have wings on their feet. Two of them—Jagger and Enzo, collide. Enzo falls on his back and lays stunned for a few seconds. I gasp, pressing my palm into the plexiglass.
Next to me, Nathan tenses. The next second, though, Enzo is up and off on the ice. He manages to grab the puck and swing it into the goal. His team cheers. And all of that took seconds. Literally, seconds. "Jesus." I shake my head. "I always forget how spectacular it is to watch a game in real life."
Probably because I stayed away from ice hockey games after what my ex-boyfriend did to me. I also stopped myself from following the game online. I through it would hurt to watch the players again on the ice, but strangely, it hadn’t upset me too much. Maybe I'm getting over my heartbreak. Or perhaps, it has to do with being fascinated by a certain athlete and his mastery over the puck?
Rick is breathtaking. Clad in jersey, pants, gloves and helmet, he’s spectacular. No, more than that, he’s breathtaking. There’s something about the way his jersey stretches over his shoulder pads and chest protector, and how his elbow pads and protective gloves, padded shorts, shin pads and neck guard, he resembles a beast. Only Jagger, aka Shrek, is taller than him. And then, there’s the way he owns the ice, and how he charges. The way he manages to snatch up the puck and swing it toward the goal is poetry in motion. He’s more fluid than my asshole ex ever was.
"It’s not for nothing, it’s known as one of the fastest games in the world," Nathan murmurs.
The coach calls time, and the players glide off the ice. Rick skates up to Enzo, and the two engage in a conversation. Rick does most of the talking, Enzo nods. He seems to be making sure Enzo is okay. Then Rick slaps him on the back and Enzo steps off.
"I’m going to make sure he’s okay." Nathan grabs his equipment bag and races off in his direction. The other players head for the locker room, but Rick stays behind to talk with the coach.
