Page 22 of Fate on the Ice

There is a moment of silence. Then I hear his warm laugh. “Me either, honey. Needed to hear your voice.”

It’s my turn to laugh softly. “But I only left you a few hours ago,” I say.

He hums. “Yeah, I have a feeling that one minute is too long without you.”

God, my heart. It swells and almost bursts at his words. Closing my eyes, I listen to his voice as he talks. It’s melodic, deep and thick, rough and smooth all at the same time. I imagine what it would feel like to listen to him speak with my ear against his chest.

“You’re very good at this, you know?”

“Good at what?” he asks.

“The dating, the sweet talk.”

Otto bursts out in laughter. “You know, that is the first time anyone has ever said I’m sweet about anything, even my mother.”

“You have a mother?” I ask, knowing that he does, at least somewhere, and I want more information about her.

And for the next few hours, until we both grow heavy-lidded and fall asleep, our phone still pressed against our ears, we talk. Otto tells me about his parents, who live in Canada. He does indeed have a mother. His parents are married and have been for thirty years. That causes my heart to crack. He speaks of them so fondly, and I don’t have that, so I listen to him instead—intently.

What feels like seconds later, my alarm sounds. Sitting straight up, I look down at my phone that’s still in my hand. The call has ended, of course, although I don’t know when. Then I notice that I have a new notification. A text. And it’s from Otto.

OTTO: GLAD I GOT TO FALL ASLEEP BESIDE YOU. I CAN’T WAIT TO DO IT IN REAL LIFE.

Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I can’t hide my smile as my fingers move over my phone, and I text him back.

I can’t wait either.

Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I straighten myself and make my way to the bathroom to get ready for work. I don’t know how I’m going to be in that salon all day long with those girls and not gush about my evening with Otto. I don’t need to make a big deal about this—but I want to.

I want to shout it from the rooftops, but I’m still so conflicted about my father’s role in all of this and what it could mean.

I’m not sure if my father would care that much, but it would really make things awkward for Otto. I don’t think he’d like that, especially with how much he loves the game—this is his whole life.

It’s better my father doesn’t know… maybe not ever.

OTTO

Coach screams my name.

“Larsson.”

His entire face turns bright red, almost purple, and I know I’ve fucked up. After staying up all night talking to Grace, I am dragging serious ass today. I don’t blame Coach for screaming at me.

Skating over to him, I stop when I’m a few feet away. His purple face greets me, and I hold my breath, waiting for what he’s about to say. I already know I’m not going to like it, but I decide I can’t be a smart-ass or say anything back to him. I have to take whatever he dishes.

“What the fuck position do you play?” he asks.

“Defenseman,” I mumble just loud enough he can hear me.

He bends at the waist, leaning over slightly, his eyes focused on mine, and I swear to fuck they look like they’re going to actually pop out of his eye sockets.

“Then fucking defend something, you motherfucker,” he shouts at the top of his lungs.

I bite back the laugh because I swear to fuck, at this exact moment, he looks like a fucking cartoon character. Instead of laughing in his face about it, I dip my chin, mumble yes, Coach, and turn my back to him.

Smiling, I jerk my chin, lifting it toward Reid. His eyes widen, no doubt having heard the entire exchange. He’s probably happy that the focus is on me. Last season, he was the one who got all of the coach’s anger. He’s also the one who was distracted by a woman, his woman—Lorelai.

Seems to be par for the course. Go after woman—get distracted. Settle down with said woman—win in more than one aspect of life. I’m at the distracted part right now. Mainly because my dick is completely lost and wishing it were somewhere else.

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