Page 83 of Home Ice

Brant shifts his weight and my skin burns, remembering what it felt like to take him this morning. I can't believe we did that in his parents' house. I've been on alert all day, looking for any stray glances that might be a clue someone heard us, but everyone is acting normally. Except me and Brant. I don't know how I'm supposed to ever act normal now that I know the taste of him. Now that I know the face he makes as he comes. The way the corners of his eyes crinkle, just like they do when he's smiling. The way his mouth falls open, his nostrils flare, his pupils go wide.

"Hey." Brant kisses the side of my forehead. "You're grinning just a little too wide. People might get suspicious."

I look around. The room is dark except for the light from the television screen. Everyone is watching it, except Chloe, who is snoring so quietly, I can barely hear it. "It's because of the movie," I lie.

"You're not even watching it, so I know it's not."

"And how do you know what I'm watching?"

He glides his hand down my back to the waistband of my lounge pants, teasing a finger side to side before sliding it under them. "Because I'm not watching the movie either," he whispers. Heat spreads through me from his fingers before settling at the top of my thighs.

I've made every excuse to keep from crossing that final line with Brant, but it's always been about fear. Everyone I've ever truly loved has left me. But these two days with him, with his family, with us as a family, have showed me what I'm missing out on. Maybe he won’t be around forever, but I'm missing out on all this happiness right now. Maybe it's time I dive.

There are only six months left in the season. Surely Dad would think that's close enough and understand when I sell the house at that point. That would give me at least two months in Denver with Brant before he has to go back to Salt Lake. It will be tough not seeing him during the season, but we could be together whenever we have the same days off. Chloe could live with me. We can make it work. Maybe he could even arrange for a trade to Denver. Then the three of us really could live as a family.

"What are you thinking about?" Brant leans over to kiss me again.

"Nothing."

"Mm-hmm." He slides his finger even further down, and I gasp.

"What are you doing?" I look around the room. Chloe is still asleep. His parents are still watching the movie. Barrie, though, is watching me. I blush, and she cracks a smile as she looks away. "Stop that," I hiss at him. "Your sister was watching."

"My sister needs to respect people's privacy," he says a little too loudly while staring in her direction. She holds up her middle finger.

Under the blanket, I trail a finger along the top of his thigh to regain his attention. "I've been thinking a lot today," I whisper.

"Great cinema inspires deep thoughts."

"I don't think the live-action adaptation of the Chipmunks qualifies as great cinema. But I've been thinking, and I'm ready."

"Ready for Chipmunks: The Squeakquel?"

I reach up from his thigh and slap his stomach. I can't get much force behind it under our shared blanket, but it's not like I could ever slap hard enough to make him feel it through the concrete of his abs anyway. "About us. I think I'm ready—" Just as I work up the courage to say it, my phone buzzes on the coffee table in front of us.

"Who's wishing you merry Christmas now?" Brant tosses a hand in the air, and I laugh. All afternoon my phone has vibrated with messages from Sting coaches, support staff, and players. Brant was so adorable when he pretended to pout because Milo texted me before him. I had to hand feed him one of his mom's maple sugar candies before he would talk to me.

This message is from a number I don't recognize, but there have been a few like that today. So I don't think anything is unusual as I swipe it open to read it.

Unknown: I was disappointed to learn you've been in SLC and didn't let me know. No matter what choices you've made, I'm still your mother, and I'd like to see you.

"So, who is it this time? Tammy, the third assistant to the second caterer on the suite level?" Brant asks, and I sit up, only vaguely aware of Chloe grumbling as I wake her. Brant pulls a leg onto the couch so he can turn to face me. "What is it?"

I stare down at the coffee table for a few seconds. The movie reflects on the polished wood, upside-down and blurred, but I can almost make out the characters. I watch vacantly as someone moves from right to left. Then I hand my phone to Brant, as if I won't have to deal with it if I'm not holding it. "I think it's from my mom."

In the corner of my eye, I see him look at the phone before dropping it to the blanket stretched across us. "Fuck your mom. You're not meeting with her." I nod once. I feel everyone looking at me. From my right, Chloe's hand comes over mine.

CHAPTER 52

WHAT IF I'M GOING TO THE GYNECOLOGIST?

BRANT

"You're staying with me tonight." I have to follow Lily to the parking lot in order to talk to her. She shakes her head in front of me, but keeps walking. We've been back in Salt Lake City for three days now, and since I dropped her off at her house, I've barely seen her. Fuck, last night, I had what was probably the best game I've had in years. The only thing I wanted was to pull her tight to my body to celebrate, but she just gave me a weak "good game" and the kind of smile you give to a stranger you pass at the grocery store.

I'd take it personally if she weren't being like this to everyone. So many people around the team have asked me what's wrong with her that I'm sick of fielding the question. Coach called me into his office this morning to ask if Lily and I had broken up. Hell, Kayden skated down to the end of the ice where Milo and I were working with our goaltending coach to threaten me if I'd done something to her. Fucking Kayden Bouchard, the man who is my best friend, not hers. So, as much as I hate being the domineering asshole, I'm going to do whatever it takes to snap her out of this. For her sake, and so the laundry staff doesn't start washing my jock straps in hot sauce.

"I mean it," I tell her. "Go home and get whatever you need. Then come to my house. Get enough for a few days. We'll worry about getting more when we come back from the road trip."

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