AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What about you?”
“What about me?” he asks, facing the road.
“Won’t that do something to your celebrity status—a broken engagement?”
“Athletes have breakups all the time. Travel schedule, commitment issues, fear of being left at the altar.” He pins me with his icy gaze.
“I wouldn’t leave you at the altar,” I say, having no idea where that came from.
Chase sweeps his eyes over me before returning to the road.
“Because there won’t be one,” I add.
He takes a breath. “Pepper, let’s make something very clear.”
Oh this should be good.
“There may very well be an altar. And I intend on showing up. And so will you if a solid marriage is the only thing that will get Mr. Politics to back off.” There’s an edge to his voice with that last part.
“You’d do that?”
He shrugs, backtracking from the intensity of his earlier statement. “Might as well.”
I scoff with an eyeroll. “You’re so romantic.”
I’m in my uniform and call-time isn’t for another two hours. Chase and I are at the practice rink on the lower level. He stuck a note on the door that read closed for private coaching so we wouldn’t be disturbed.
I’m cold. But I’m not telling him that. Since he’s already called me a baby twice since we got here.
Chase holds the big snow broom that I’m supposed to be sweeping the ice with during intermissions while I “entertain” the crowd.
“Don’t look down,” he demonstrates. “Don’t focus on the sweeping. Just on your form and not falling.”
I cross my arms, scanning my ridiculous outfit. “Anyone realize how sexist this is? Why are women entertaining and sweeping?”
“Some teams have Ice Guys or an ‘Ice Crew’ when there’s a mix.” He grins at my pleated skirt. “But they’re a little more covered up.”
“Thank God. Still—this is super degrading. Cleaning up after you guys? What are we in the nineteenth century?”
“Says the girl who volunteered to clean my house.”
I roll my eyes.
“Could we talk about your morals later, Princess, and get your ass over here.”
I snatch my broom and cautiously skate over to him. The thing is a lot lighter than it looks.
I wobble as I circle him with it. “Don’t look down.”
“Where should I look?”
“At the other girls, at the crowd. Into space—I don’t care. Just don’t look down.”
I lift my chin.
“And smile.”
I flip my head back. “Now you’re pushing it.” Losing my focus, I fall flat on my ass.
