Page 25 of Melting the Ice

“Uh. Thanks. So. You’re coming to the game?” He grabbed lettuce and tomato from the fridge, setting up his sandwich assembly line. I swore he adjusted everything so it was in a perfect line.

“Yup. You going to get in another fight?” I forced down the shudder from just remembering how hot his last fight had been. I shouldn’t have found it sexy, but dammit, it was.

“It’s not like I’m trying to get into fights. Lisbon is a grade A dick, and he had it coming. Fucking took Sweets out for the night and went after Haldy. The refs weren’t making the calls, and I wasn’t going to let another teammate get injured and head down the tunnel. I’m not fighting just to fight.”

Freaking hell. Even hearing him defend himself was hot. He had always been the strong and silent type, so seeing him get fired up just talking about it was sexy. So freaking sexy. He had passion in him that he probably bottled up, but I knew it was there, and I couldn’t help but think about our kiss.

“Are Haldy and Sweets okay?” I asked.

“Sweets is fine. Haldy ended up injured during the next game and will be out for a month. I just fucking hate dirty players in the league, and sometimes I have to fight to protect my teammates. It’s something I always step up to do, and I know my teammates have my back, too. Clean hits are going to happen, but cheap and dirty shots should be stopped.” He paused, settinghis sandwich on a plate. “I know it’s a bit over the top, but Lisbon is one of the few that really pisses me off. Fucking asshat. Glad we only have to play them a few times during the regular season.” He took a sip of his water. “You know, you don’t have to come to all of my games just because you’re staying here.”

“I love watching you play. I mean, hockey is a fun sport to watch. So much energy and the crowds are so loud. It’s awesome,” I said.

He chuckled. “I guess it makes sense that you love it, you know, since you’re a hurricane and all. You sure you don’t want something? You’ve been cooking for me. The least I can do is make you a sandwich.”

“Thanks, but I’m good. I want to get this finished so I can send it to Elaine. And don’t worry about me. You need to stick to your routine.”

“I’m not so bad that I can’t make you lunch.”

“I’m not messing with your superstitions. Go, go,” I said, waving my hand at him.

I didn’t miss that he took another glance at my drawing before he sat down at the island to eat.

Seriously. How would he react if I asked him to eat me?

Chapter 6

MICAH

My small tabletop water fountain always helped center me before I started my meditation and yoga sessions. The tinkling of water cascading over perfectly placed stones was soothing while I rolled out my yoga mat and set up my space. I turned on my playlist and sat on the mat, breathing steadily as I allowed my mind to drift. I loved adding meditation and yoga to my game day routine. Hockey required a lot of physical strength, but there was a great deal of mental gymnastics as well. If I lost focus, that could result in injuries to myself and my teammates, so I took the time to meditate to help me get in the zone when I stepped on the ice.

I transitioned from meditating into the first set of positions to stretch my body. I couldn’t fully bend backward like Tucks, but I was definitely more limber since I’d started doing yoga. Some players on my last team had teased me, but taking extra care ofmy body would hopefully translate into a longer career on the ice.

I stood up and moved into tree pose to work on my balance. And then I almost fell over as Josie’s laughter filtered through the walls. I shook my head and shifted my weight on my left foot.

I could absolutely focus on my body and each pose and not on how Josie felt against my body. Or why the woman in that image she’d drawn had long hair that I could wrap around my fist like I’d imagined way too many times doing with Josie while I kissed her.

Shit.

I wobbled and planted my right foot down on the mat forcefully.

Son of a bitch.

Waking up with Josie in my arms two mornings ago and then seeing a racy image she’d drawn that featured my fucking dining room table made it too easy to vividly picture us in that position.

Dammit.

I sucked in a breath and plopped my ass back down on the mat.

Fucking hell, I’d even blurted out that I was hungry after staring at her tablet.

Fuck. Me.

At least I’d covered that slip-up by actually making a sandwich and not drooling over the artist sitting at my table and looking way too delectable.

Sometimes, I wondered if Josie was sent to Earth just to torment me.

Jeez. Melodramatic, much?

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