Page 43 of Fate on the Ice

When her body folds, her hands stay between us as she exhales and buries her face against my neck. I feel her heavy breaths, and my own panting ones fill the room as I slide my hands up her spine, my fingertips gliding up her soft skin.

“We haven’t talked about birth control, and I’ve been bare inside of you more than once.”

She lifts her head and pushes against my chest to straighten her arms. Her eyes are wild as her gaze searches for mine. I almost laugh, not because this is funny, but because she is so goddamn adorable.

GRACE

I hadn’t thought about that. Birth control. Bare bodies. His cum inside of me. I hadn’t thought of it at all. Then something slams into me, almost as if it’s slapped me across the face or punched me in the gut, I’m not sure.

“Do you think you got me pregnant? Is that what this proposal is about?” I ask.

Otto lifts his hand and wraps his fingers around the front of my throat. His grasp is firm yet gentle as he watches me for a long moment. Then he sucks in a breath and holds it before he chuckles.

“Grace,” he says, his lips curved up into a grin. “It’s not 1826, honey.”

“I know. It’s just the timing…” My words trail off because I feel really stupid.

Maybe he’s still all hopped up on painkillers and won’t remember this embarrassing conversation, but as my luck has it, he will tease me about it until the day I die. And I’ll let him because I’ve fallen in love with him.

“I’m on birth control,” I whisper. “And you’re the only man I’ve ever been with this way.”

Otto jerks his chin in my direction. “Then this is the way we’ll be together,” he murmurs.

“Then this is the way we’ll be together,” I rasp.

Climbing off him, I take myself to the bathroom and clean up. Then I lift my eyes to the mirror and take in my reflection. My face is flushed, my eyes a bit wild, but I’ve never looked more at peace, more rested than I do right now.

The bathroom door opens, and my gaze flicks to the reflection of the man standing behind me. He leans against the jamb, his gaze never leaving mine in the mirror. “You’re stunning, Grace.”

It’s at this moment that I realize we’re standing in the bathroom, looking at ourselves, and we’re completely naked. Talk about being bare. My arms itch to cover my breasts, but for some reason, I’m frozen solid.

“You’re what I want, who I want. I hope you know that.”

His scar is ugly. It’s jagged and will become part of him. Therefore becoming part of me. I hate that it happened. I wish I could change what happened to him. I don’t want Otto to be forced to take time off, but I can’t deny that I’m glad he won’t be dealing with my father for a while.

“I know that,” I whisper, dipping my chin in a single nod.

“But you hesitate. I can read it in your body language.”

I turn around to face him fully, then take a step toward him, then another until I’ve closed the distance between us. I place my hands on his pecs. His muscles jump beneath my palms.

“Grace.”

“I hesitate because I’m thinking about my father, well, specifically the way my father could have and will be treating you at practices. I don’t want to say that this, the pain and surgery, the bionic cheek, is a good thing, but at the same time, I think I’m happy you won’t be at his mercy.”

Sliding my hands from his chest, I wrap my fingers around either side of his throat as I glide my thumbs along the underside of his jaw. As I search his gaze, I wonder if this is all real. The man, the marriage, my life.

I want it to be real, but I can’t deny it’s happening so quickly that I’m scared. What happens when it blows up in my face? What happens if he thinks I’m too much trouble? What if I am exactly like my mother? I don’t feel like I am. But what if?

“I understand what you’re saying,” he murmurs. “And if all of this means that I have to find a new team, then I will, and we’ll move.”

I bite the inside of my cheek. I don’t know what exactly to say, but I do know that him switching teams is going to hurt a lot more than the cut on his cheek does. “You can’t switch teams. I won’t let you.”

He smiles, then grunts, his brows snapping together with what I can only guess is pain. “You need pain meds,” I whisper.

“I don’t give a fuck about that. You won’t let me switch?” he asks.

“I won’t,” I confirm with a nod. “The men you play with, this place, they are your family away from home. This is your world. You can’t quit this place. These people. This is your life.”

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