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"You think Kellan is ready for tomorrow?" he asks, turning to glance at Kellan, who stopped a few yards back with Gray. They're looking at the blade on Dean's skate. "We need him ready."
"He's ready," I say, confident. Kellan may not be Theo, but he's a strong offensive skater. He'll help us tie up the final game and cinch our spot in the playoffs. "Any idea when Theo will be cleared to play?"
He was injured in a fight with Jackson Davies, the biggest bitch in the NHL. Davies has a personal problem with Wes, and started talking shit about Laney, so Theo clocked him. He ended up with a minor concussion and community service for it, but we all think punching that fucker in the face on national television was worth it. Especially since Davies is now on the chopping block. Good riddance to bad rubbish.
"Kris says midweek," Wes says, blowing out a breath. "I fucking hope he's right, man."
"We'll be cool," I say. "We've got this shit."
"We better have this shit. I think this will be the last Cup for most of us," he mutters.
"Yeah," I agree quietly. The old guard is getting, well, fucking old. We've got the drive, but our bodies don't do the shit they used to do anymore. Logan and I still have a few years in us. So does Gray. But Kris? Theo? Wes? They're winding down. We all know it.
"Are you done torturing us or what?" Gray asks, skating up to us. "I need to go help Camila handle this bullshit rumor about us getting married in Vegas."
Movement off the ice catches my attention. I shift my gaze in that direction, my eyes falling on Jamie as she scurries across the arena toward Laney and Charlotte in a sexy little black business suit and sky-high heels. She keeps her head down, not even looking in my direction.
What the fuck?
She moves like she's trying to avoid notice, but I'm noticing. Every damn time she's in my general vicinity, I notice her. I fuckingfeelher, like she's a living, breathing piece of me. The entire world comes alive when she's close. I can't even explain it. But there's light and color to it. Electricity crackles up my damn spine.
She reaches Laney and Charlotte, bending to hug Laney. I watch her, my cock pressing uncomfortably against my cup like he's trying to Hulk smash through the damn thing. Jesus Christ. Wes was right. That shit does hurt.
I grit my teeth, silently willing my girl to look in my direction.
She glances over her shoulder, her gray eyes connecting with mine. Even from here, I know something's wrong. Even from here, I see color creep into her cheeks before she quickly pulls her gaze from mine as if she's afraid she isn't supposed to draw attention to us.
Nope. Fuck this. My heart is all tangled up in this girl. I'll be damned if I pretend it isn't or if I let her pretend that she doesn't feel the same damn way about me just because my teammates are here. Not after last night. We aren't moving backward when I know damn well that she wants the same things I do.
I take off across the ice, closing the distance between us.
She doesn't even turn around to look at me, but she senses me coming. She immediately says bye to Laney and Charlotte and scurries away like she's afraid to let me catch her. It'd almost be funny if it didn't piss me off. When I catch her, I'm spanking her pretty ass for running from me.
"Jonas, where the fuck are you going, man?" Wes shouts.
I ignore him, focused on Jamie.
"Stop right there, baby girl," I growl, my voice booming across the ice.
She immediately stops running and bows her head.
I slide to a stop at the boards, the blades of my skates throwing up ice. My teammates are dead silent behind me. I don't even have to turn around to know every damn eye in the arena is focused on us. Fuck it. Let them watch. I won't hide her. Not now, not ever.
She looks like she wants to sink through the cement floor and disappear.
"Did you really think you could sneak in without me noticing?" I ask, my voice soft.
"No," she whispers, shaking her head.
"I'm not hiding you, baby girl."
"Jonas."
"I'm not hiding you," I repeat, reaching out to cup her cheek.
She melts into my touch, unable to help herself. Her gray eyes tangle with mine, wide and full of worry. Full of hope too. It blazes like beacons in those slate depths, pleading with me not to break her heart. As if I could. Fuck, she has no idea how wild I am about her, does she?
How could she when I haven't told her?
