Page 88 of Home Ice

If I move at all, it might wake her, and there's no way she won't feel my hard-on pressing into her if she's awake. Before we ran into her mom, Lily was clear that she didn't want anything to happen between us. She would understand that this is beyond my control, right? There's no way she could hold it against me. Normally. But what if she's still emotional from last night and not thinking clearly? Shit. It's okay. These things go away. It just needs time.

Maybe I can help it out. I've practiced mindfulness so much over the years as a goalie that it's become second nature to me. Right now, I am mindfully shouting at my erection to calm the fuck down. Like it's trying to taunt me, it twitches, and I'm pretty sure it gets even harder. Bastard. I'm going to make it pay for that. Later. For now, I've got to do something to keep my mind off my dick and how great it feels between Lily's legs and how much I want to bury it inside her.

History. I fucking hate history, so if anything is going to get rid of this massive issue, it'll be that. I start at the beginning of what I know, running through the names of the First Nations I can remember. Then I move through colonization. John Cabot, the establishment of Quebec City, the Act of Union, and the War of 1812. Or was that before the Act of Union? I should have paid more attention in Ms. Manningham's class, but how the hell could I have known Canadian history would ever be useful? Just as I get to the Northwest Rebellion, Lily groans, and I hold my breath, sure that I'm busted. I have to convince her it was my dick's fault, not mine. She stretches. Oh god. She rolls her hips, driving my dick even further between her legs, and a herd of bison thunders through my stomach. But then she rolls forward.

As soon as she slides free of me, I twist onto my back and throw my hands over my head into a dramatic yawn. After a moment, I roll over, pretending that I'm just waking up. I even force myself to give a shocked smile when I see Lily now facing me. "Morning."

"Morning," she purrs, and whatever progress the Statute of Westminster made in relaxing my dick is instantly undone by her voice. "Have I told you how much I love waking up next to you?" she asks.

I smile at the memory of Christmas morning. "Have I told you how much I love you? And nothing happened last night, by the way. You were clear about that, so I made sure nothing happened. Nothing at all." I'm sure saying it probably doesn't make me sound guilty.

She plants a kiss on my lips, and fuck me. Morning breath is supposed to be bad, right? No one can go all night without their breath falling somewhere on a scale between bread-that's-a-few-days-too-old all the way up to the-inside-of-the-fish-cooler-that-time-forgot. But damn if hers isn't amazing. I take a deep breath and imagine waking to this for the rest of my life, and a shudder runs through me. I am so far in over my head.

"I don't know if I would call your dick between my legs nothing." I freeze. The bison have moved up and are trampling my heart now. "Do you always recite history under your breath when you wake up?" She giggles. "I didn't recognize much, but I have heard of the War of 1812."

"Th-that was… I didn't mean to say that out loud. You were asleep. I thought. So, I was trying to make a certain misbehaving dick calm down. I can handle being in the same bed as you, but he has a harder time."

Her attention flicks to my groin and even though it's buried under the covers, my dick tries rising to meet her. "Are you sure you can handle me in bed? Seems like we haven't tested that. Yet."

I stare at her. "What does that mean? Yesterday, you kind of gave me the impression you weren't interested in that."

"No, yesterday I said we should break up. But I've always been interested in that." She points toward my dick, drawing a circle in the air and then moving the finger to my face, pointing at me. "I think what I really need are guidelines. We need to have a long talk sometime and figure out exactly what this is." Her finger flicks between me and her. "But later. We have to get to work now."

If she would stay even a second longer in bed, I would grab her and pull her on top of me. Whatever conversation we need to have could happen right now while I fuck the words from her. But she throws the covers off and darts to the bedroom before I get the chance. I roll over with a groan and look at the time. Shit, she's right. We need to go.

Lily doesn't argue when I tell her I'm driving us to the arena. But it wouldn't matter, because that's an argument I wouldn't lose. It's going to be difficult enough to let her out of my sight when we get there. There's no way I'm doing it before I absolutely have to. Hell, as I pull into the parking lot, I wonder if I could talk her into standing at the boards right behind my net.

"I'm fine," she tells me on the way into the building. Jogging around the SUV to take her hand as soon as she stepped out was probably a giveaway that I'm not fine.

"I know you are. I just?—"

"Thank you." She presses her lips to mine, and whatever I was going to say evaporates. I'm pretty sure kissing her might be my favorite thing ever. Better than hockey. Better than the summers we spent in the Thousand Islands when I was growing up. "Last night was... rough," she finally admits when we pull back for breath. Her lips are still just a couple of centimeters from mine, and it's too far. "I'm glad you didn't listen to me."

"About?"

She blows a short breath through her nose. "About anything. About not spending the night with you. About breaking up. Things just never work out for me, so I get scared when life gets too good. So now that I've met someone who seems so perfect? I guess I thought it would be better if I ended things before you had a chance to."

I take a step back so she can see me. Our joined hands stretch between us. "That's never happening, Lily. Before you, I never understood that secret smile my mom and dad have for each other. Or the way they seem to know what the other is feeling without a word or even a glance. But I get it when I'm with you. I get all the things I never thought I would."

"Brant, don't you dare get sappy with me before a practice. Coach will kill me."

"You started it by talking about how perfect I am." I wink, hoping to lighten the mood.

"I made a mistake saying that part out loud, didn't I?"

"Huge. Let's go inside, so I can tell the boys you think I'm perfect. Or maybe you could say it in front of them. That would be even better. They might not believe me." She rolls her eyes, so I kiss between them and grip her hand as we walk inside.

Our dressing room is enormous. There's space for all twenty-two of us and plenty more. Whoever designed the arena did it right. But today it seems confined. Everyone turns toward us as soon as we come through the door, and the pressure of the space squeezes me.

"You're smiling," Kayden says. "That means you didn't hear."

Lily's hand is still in mine, so I pull her tight as worry courses through me. "Hear what?" My mind whirls, trying to land on anything that could tighten the mood of the team like this, but I can't come up with anything. The room feels like we were just beaten out of a tournament. I look around, challenging everyone with my eyes to tell me what's going on, but no one does. That's when I notice that not everyone is here.

"Morrison. It's about fucking time. " Coach's voice makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. "My office. Now. Alone."

Shit.

I turn to Lily and give her a smile, like I know exactly what's going on and it's all going to be okay. But I have no clue. "See you after practice?" She nods but doesn't say anything. She looks as worried as I am. "Maybe you could go ahead and tell everyone what you said about me while I'm dealing with Coach?"

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