Page 55 of Rinkmates

I know who did it.

Fucking Stacey Saab.

But I keep quiet and nod instead.

I just need to be more careful.

Grace on Icehas been toxic from the start, but what do you expect when there’s a million-dollar prize at stake? It’s a life-changing amount, and Stacey has always been deceptive—even when there’s no prize involved other than a medal.

She used to bully others instead of relying on her skills.

We pull up to the apartment building, and Riley shuts off the engine, turning to face me. “Liora, promise me you’ll be careful.”

“I promise,” I whisper, my cheeks burning. “Thank you for the ride.”

He rakes a hand through his hair. “Always. Now, let’s get you inside before I track down whoever did this.”

I quickly change and,as I step out of Riley’s bathroom, I find him sprawled on the couch, lying on his stomach.

“You’re invading my bedroom,” I tease, glancing at the TV with the paused show. Ever since they renovated my bedroom and I started sleeping here, he’s been watching his shows in his own room.

“Well, you wrecked my evening plans, so I thought I could watch my show on the big screen for once.”

My throat tightens. He’s so kind, and I feel a pang of guilt. He probably had other plans tonight than driving me around town. “I’m sorry. Did you miss anything because of me?”

“No, no. I was planning to read. It’s all good. I just wanted to check on you and there’s this new series that got me hooked…so…”

“I’m good, thank you,” I say, sinking down next to his feet.

He tries to get up but winces, collapsing back onto the couch.

My stomach drops. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just—fuck. My back. I must have strained a muscle with the kids today. I love them, but they use me as their personal playground. So yeah, maybe I wanted to check in with you and noticed I couldn’t get up again. But just wait a bit, it will be all fine—God, this hurts.”

I can’t even blame the kids for wanting to use him as their play tower. I want to too. But in a different way that’s absolutely not okay to think about right now. “Oh god, I’m sorry,” I say,blurting out without thinking, “want me to massage you? Maybe I can find the spot.”

He blinks. I blink back, my mind racing.

What is wrong with me? Massage him? Am I really this eager to touch him? I glance at the way his muscles strain against his shirt. Yep. I am.

“No. You don’t have to,” he says.

I notice his flushed cheeks and the way he stays still. He’s in pain.

“I know, but I owe you…”

“You don’t owe me anything. You needed my help, that’s fine. Forget it. I’ll just lie here for a few minutes, and when I can get up, I’ll let you rest.”

“No,” I insist, realizing this might actually help him out. “It’s really not a big deal. Let me take a look.”

“Liora.”

“Stop being such a stubborn hothead and let me help.”

I push aside my fluttering thoughts about his sexy body and move to straddle him. What’s a little massage, right? I position myself over his hips, hovering slightly as if the touch might set me ablaze. I press my hands into his back, feeling the warmth of his body seep through his shirt.

Damn, he’s ripped. This was a terrible idea.

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