Page 30 of Lawson

“I can do this for much longer than you think,” he says.

I blow out a breath, thinking. “That was the main event I was really concerned with,” I say. “The one I knew he would attend, but I'll definitely let you know. And we can keep up our private lessons, even though I don't have a date for us on the books.”

Something like disappointment flashes over his features, but he smooths it away quickly enough. I'm still trying to figure out how to thank him when it looks like he's about to leave, and instinct takes over.

I gently reach out, placing my hand on his chest to stop him, then move to my tiptoes so I can gently press my lips to his.

He immediately leans into my touch, his hands sliding easily along my hips as he takes control of the kiss. All my earlier thoughts and ambitions flood back to my mind, but they’re quickly doused with ice water with the memory of Brian's words.

As much as I would love to spend a night with Lawson and allow him to distract me from all my problems, I’m not about tousehim like that.

No, if Lawson and I cross this line—give in to this chemistry that seems to be burning us both from the inside out—it’ll be on our terms and no one else’s.

Still, it’s hard as hell to pull away from him, to tell my body to take a step away and put space between us.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” I say, and it sounds as pathetic outside of my head as it did inside.

Lawson smirks down at me. “I like the way you say thank you,” he says, and I unravel at the way he puts me at ease.

No judgment, no lectures, no insisting that I'm leading him on. He knows exactly what page we're on, and he's okay with it. Somehow, that makes him more endearing than all his other endearing qualities combined.

He slowly backs away, sliding his hands into the pants pockets, looking so damn good I'm about to rethink the whole stopping-our-kiss thing.

“Call me any time, damsel,” he says before he spins around and heads back to his car.

I blow out a breath, grateful for his ability to leave when I would’ve stood outside my door all night just to kiss him some more.

I make my way inside, locking the door behind me, and heading straight for a very, very cold shower.

CHAPTER 7

LAWSON

“As you all know,we have our first preseason game in less than a month,” Coach Hardin says from where he stands near his makeshift office in the locker room, our team in the various stages of shedding gear.

“So that means our preemptive preseason camp is ending and preseason practice is officially going to start.” He smiles at the few groans that echo throughout the locker room, his hands casually in his pockets as he nods at us. “Now I know that might be confusing to some of you, so here's what's going to be different. During this camp we've been focusing on different strategic categories to take your skills to the next level. And I've been incredibly proud of each and every one of you for stepping up, even though some of you still think your skate coach shouldn't be taken seriously.”

Coach narrows his gaze at a few of the rookies huddled in a corner across the room, and they have the decency to drop their eyes. Hardin doesn't seem too upset about it, and that's probably because he's a really smart coach and knows that sometimes it takes people longer to come around than others. Especially when you have a figure skater trying to teach a hockey player skills.

And I have to be honest, if it’d been anyone other than Blakely, I might’ve been just as hesitant in the beginning. But after one lesson with her it was clear she had loads to offer us in the talent department, and that's not me being biased, that's just facts.

Anyone who is still giving her shit about being their coach is an idiot. They won’t last long on this team if they can’t set their egos aside and allow themselves to be better. And that's coming from somebody with aknownego. Earned, but known.

“Official practice starts next Monday, and it’ll be different than the camp because we'll be focusing mainly on drills, scenarios, and practice play. For three weeks now you guys were given the opportunity to really hone and enhance your skills. Now I want to see what you can do with them as a team.”

There are a few murmurs that echo throughout the locker room as we all glance around at the people surrounding us.

There are so many new faces, and despite the camp allowing us time to get to know each other, it's not like we're all sharing the bonds of brotherhood over here. I mean,maybethe four veterans are, but Stokehill, Torrington, Ritchford, and Kiplin have played together for three years. They have a bond we’ll have to earn as a team.

I just hope to hell we’ll have the opportunity to do that. If we win, our team stays together longer. If we lose? Players will be getting dropped and traded like baseball cards.

“I expect each of you to show up to practice on Monday ready to perform as a team. I know we have a huge number of newcomers, but this camp should’ve gotten us over the stranger danger jitters. I'm ready to see what our new team is made of, and I know it's going to be a winning one.”

There are a few whoops and hollers as Coach nods and heads out of the locker room, leaving us to shower and get dressed.

“Speaking of the skate coach, how are those private lessons going?” Ritchford asks as he gets undressed in front of his locker.

“I'm faster,” I say. “Her exercises have really built up my explosive power. Now the other guys are really fucked,” I add for good measure.

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