Page 83 of Ice Me Baby

I pull back enough to cup his face. “I’m proud of you.” I make a mental note to say those words to him more often. My thumbscaress his cheeks as I fill my words with every bit of adoration I feel for him. “I’m so fucking proud of you, Dean.”

His eyes flick over my face, and his eyes shimmer with unshed tears. “Liz…” he whispers.

I pull his face down so my forehead can rest against his. “You are an amazing man as well as an amazing player. You can completely fuck this game up, and I willstillbe proud of you.”

His breath hitches as he rests his face in the crook of my neck. His arms tighten around me, and his breathing is a little choppy. “You make it so hard,” he whispers brokenly.

I try to lighten the mood with a joke. “Your dick? I think that’s a bit inappropriate at the moment.”

He chuckles and shakes his head while pulling away to look down at me. With a smirk and wet eyes, his voice is rough as he replies, “It’s hard not to love you.”

I smirk. “Well, I am loveable.”

He leans forward brushing his lips across mine in a soft caress before he pulls away. “I’minlove with you, Liz.” My eyes widen in surprise. He must see I’m about to say something because he presses his lips against mine again. When he pulls away, he whispers, “Don’t say anything. I just wanted you to know.”

I go to say something anyway, although, I’m not really sure what will come out of my mouth, but he presses a finger to my lips. “I said don’t say anything you stubborn woman.”

I roll my eyes with a nod. “Fine.”

“Now, wish me luck.”

I snort. “Good luck.”

He takes a step away with a hum. “You know, I wish you could wear my number at work, Lizzy.”

With a grin, I lift the edge of my team polo up to show him my undershirt. I have both his and Mac’s numbers ironed onto to the other side of my shirt. His eyes widen before he lets out aloud groan. “Fucking hell, woman.” He steps into my space again before slamming his lips on mine.

He pulls away, panting. His eyes still closed he says, “Yep. I fucking love you.” He shakes his head before taking a step away and then another. “Okay, I need to get the hell out of here before I shove you in a closet and fuck you.”

He smirks, and my cheeks heat. I stutter a moment as I say, “Y-yeah. Let’s not get in trouble.”

He winks. “You know me; I love trouble.”

I huff and shoo him away. “Get. You’re going to be late.”

With a mock salute, he rushes away. Shaking my head, I huff out a laugh.What are these boys doing to me?Then I remember he hasn’t been taped up. Fuck!

The boys look great out there! I watch as Dean whispers something to Mac, and by the grin on Mac’s face, I’m guessing he told him that I was wearing their numbers. With that knowledge, they seem to be playing their hearts out to impress me. Which they don’t even need to do, but it’s amusing.

With each goal Dean makes, he looks my way. He waits until I give him a thumbs-up before he skates away with a wink. I’ve noticed that one of the rookie centers on the other team seems extra aggressive, but I try not to focus on it. Some players are just more aggressive than others, but there are rules put in place, so I try not to worry.

The other team is getting desperate. Our boys are getting slammed into the guards left and right. There’s one player in particular I keep an eye on from the other team. I think he may be a rookie because I’d never heard his name before. As I watch,he skates fast and hard toward our goalie, which is confusing, considering he doesn’t have the puck.

I gasp in horror, noticing what is about to happen before it does. I pound on the glass, trying to warn the guys. There are several unwritten rules in hockey, but one is held above all else:Don’t touch the goalie.The goalie is to be protected at all costs. This guy has no intention of stopping as he gets close to our goalie.Mygoalie. Mac. I scream as I bang on the glass, but my voice blends with the crowd’s excitement. My breath catches when I see the two collide, and Mac is thrown into the net.

Before I know it, I’m already running in his direction. I watch as Samy, one of our defensemen, lifts the other player off Mac and pushes him aggressively, while several of our players converge on the rookie. My only thought right now is getting to Mac.

I slide as I come up beside him. His head is lying next to the goal post. Fuck! Breathing hard, I try to stay calm. “Oli? Oli, can you hear me?”

He groans as his eyes open. His gaze is unfocused as he looks around. “Putain,” he huffs.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself. Can you look at me?” His eyes try to focus for a moment but then they roll back. Shit, he’s unconscious. “I need a medic!” I yell over my shoulder.

For the first time in years, my hands shake as I try to hold his head steady until the medics can get to us. Dean slides up beside me, falling to his knees. “Is he okay?”

I look up to find his helmet off and sporting a bloody nose. All professionalism leaves me. My eyes widen. “Dean! What happened to your face?”

He smirks. “So… I’m Dean now?”