Page 27 of Hot Mic, Cold Ice

Elliot is still the enemy, the man who makes my life a living hell. But he is also the man who gives me the most intense pleasure I’ve ever known. I want to see where this twisted, complicated path leads us. Can I hate him and still let myself feel every maddening, intoxicating emotion he stirs within me? Because as much as I want to deny it, I know I need him just as much as he needs me. And that realization is both terrifying and exhilarating.

Waking up next to Elliot the next morning is more awkward than anticipated but not as unbearable as I feared. The early morning light filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow on his sleeping face. For a brief moment, there is a strange sense of calm, but it doesn’t last long. As soon as he opens his eyes, the bickering begins.

“You’re hogging all the blankets,” he mutters, still half-asleep.

I roll my eyes, pulling the sheets tighter around me. “Maybe if you weren’t such a bed hog, I wouldn’t have to.” He gives me a look that is both annoyed and amused, and just like that, the familiar tension is back.

I sit up in the bed, pulling the covers up to my neck. Suddenly feeling very self-conscious. “So, I’m going to go.”

I get out of bed, pulling on my clothes from the night before. I really should have thought about the walk of shame when wearing nothing but lingerie and a coat over here. The room sits with an awkward silence as Elliot watches me. I grab my bag and head toward the door without looking back.

“I’ll see you around,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

The morning sun greets me as I step outside, a reminder that the world keeps turning despite the chaos in my life. As I make my way back to my hotel, this feeling of unease builds. The unease turns to anticipation. This arrangement is risky, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take. Time to start my day and see where this wild ride will take me next.

Chapter 22

My body already aches from last night’s game, my muscles sore and legs weary from the relentless strain. Adding to the fatigue is my night with Ziggy. Every part of me feels the effects of our fourth period run down, if you will. Despite the exhaustion, I feel a surge of confidence I haven't experienced in months. I'm ready to play to win tonight. The thought of another victory on the ice, combined with this intoxicating connection with Ziggy, has reignited a fire within me. I am back in the game, both on and off the ice, and ready to take on whatever comes next.

The day is already starting off with a challenging start but it won’t get me down. Hopefully, today’s practice and my pregame yoga will help to warm up my sore muscles and ease the pain. Right now, they are protesting with every movement. In spite of the pain, my mind is sharper and more focused than it’s been in weeks, so it is easy for me to overcome the pain anduse it as fuel. We have another game tonight, and I need to be at my best.

Our morning skate was invigorating and got us ready for the rest of the day. The guys are in high spirits; the locker room feels like it's in a bubble of confidence from our last two wins. Our drills flow seamlessly, and the energy is infectious. I can feel the adrenaline coursing through me, pushing me to give my all despite the ache in my legs. Each save, each stop, and each movement feels like a step toward victory. We are on a roll, and I am not about to let anything, especially a bit of soreness, get in the way of another win.

After practice, we gather off the ice in the cafeteria for a quick lunch before our team meeting. Everyone, even the coaches, is in a good mood. All spirits are high, and the air is full of anticipation as we eat together. Once lunch is over, Coach Wilder gets our attention, transitioning straight into our pregame meeting. We don't have much time left before we get a break to rest and refuel before getting suited up and meeting back here before the game. Nolan goes over the strategies for tonight’s game, emphasizing the importance of sticking to our game plan and maintaining our composure. As he speaks, I can feel the unease and lack of confidence start to tickle the edge of my mind but I can't let it in. I know I have to keep up my performance, not just for myself but for the team. The last two wins have set a high bar, and I am ready to meet it. The weight of responsibility and the thrill of competition makes tonight’s success even more possible.

My new “warm-up routine” with Ziggy has undeniably played a role in my recent success. Just thinking about her makes me smirk, though it also annoys me and gives me an inopportune boner. I shift uncomfortably in my seat as Coachfinishes up the meeting, reminding us to go home, rest, keep our bodies ready, fuel ourselves, and be back at the rink by 4:30 pm sharp in our suits. The combination of excitement and tension is noticeable, and I know I have to protect this feeling. As we are dismissed, I feel the familiar surge of anticipation, knowing tonight can be another win if I keep my focus.

The afternoon passes quickly. I spend some time doing yoga, stretching out the tightness in my legs. Taking care of my body is crucial, especially with the rigorous schedule we are facing. After yoga, I shower quickly, style my mustache, and get dressed, wearing one of my lucky blue suits. Feeling the familiar sense of confidence, I head to the rink a few minutes early to start my pregame routine. As I walk through the arena, I can already feel the energy building, the promise of another victory fueling my determination. Tonight, I'm ready to give it everything I have.

Once we hit the ice, everything else fades away. The sounds from the stands, the bright lights, the smell of the rink—all of it feels just right. From the first drop of the puck, I’m in the zone. Every movement is precise, my focus and training flowing through my body for every save. The team plays with a relentless drive, as we feed off each other’s energy, pushing harder with each period.

The roar of the crowd is deafening as the final buzzer signals our victory. Another incredible game. I skate off the ice, adrenaline still coursing through my veins. It feels amazing to be back on top, maintaining the standard I’ve set for myself. To have shaken off the doubts that have plagued me for weeks. As I head to the locker room, I think about the deal I’ve struck with Ziggy. It is unorthodox, but damn if it isn’t working.

The locker room is an absolute madhouse after the win. The celebration is loud and quickly turns into absolute debauchery. High-fives, hugs, and laughter fill the space as Coach’s praise is drowned out by revelry. I don't have any media obligations after the game, so those of us who are free decide to go out on the town to celebrate. I shower quickly and meet up with the guys. This energy is out of this world, it feels like we are about to take home the Cup. Everyone is riding high on the win, and it won’t take long for the crowd of fans and puck bunnies to figure out where we are headed. We need to make moves quickly to secure our favorite post-win spot.

The go-to spot for the players who don't want to go home and celebrate with their wives and families is a dive bar a few blocks from the rink. The owner is a huge Red Wolves fan but rarely gets to come to the games because if he’s not open, he isn’t making money. It’s by pure happenstance that one of the boys found this place, and the owner welcomed us with open arms. On the flip side, we treat him like part of the team, order heavily, and tip well. It’s nice to have a place that feels like ours for times like this, where we aren’t looking to go out and party or meet women. We just want to celebrate as a team. Anyone from the franchise is welcome to join. It’s a well-known fact that we all end up coming. I keep checking my phone, hoping for a text from Ziggy. I plan to see her soon enough. Let’s just hope I don’t have to chase her down.

As I stand at the bar ordering another drink, I spot Ziggy across the room. Her eyes meet mine with that familiar fire. I can’t help but grin. I signal the bartender to order her a martini, knowing that she drinks them. She makes her way over, slipping into the space next to me. There is this argumentative undercurrent between us that is always present, but there’s alsoan undeniable allure. The bartender places our drinks down in front of us. I raise my glass to her, she nods in acknowledgment. This could be our new unspoken routine, and despite how insane it sounds, I feel like this is becoming an integral part of my pregame ritual.

“You played well tonight,” Ziggy says, her tone pensive in a way that I'm not sure if I'm in trouble or getting lucky.

“Thanks. I have a new warm-up routine that seems to be working,” I reply with a wink.

She rolls her eyes but can’t hide the smile tugging at her lips. “So, about that…” she cuts herself off before continuing, “this will get complicated. We don’t live in the same place, and we travel all the time. How is this arrangement of yours even going to work?”

I’ll be honest. I haven't thought that far into what this would really look like. It can’t be that hard, can it? “We meet up each time our schedules align. Specifically in a way that lines with before a game.” I start spilling my internal thoughts, “Maybe a postgame hook up will tide me over to the next game when our schedules don’t line up. I don’t know, Anatife. I can just call you whenever I need to get laid.”

Ziggy glares at me. “You have got to be kidding me! I am not going to just drop everything any time you call just to have sex with you. No matter how good the sex might be.”

Ok, maybe that wasn’t the smartest thing to say. It’s also not exactly what I meant. “I mean, technically, this would be a continual string of booty calls,” I say. “Once we get the rules straight, we can revisit all the wonderful things you want to say about what sex with me is like.” I shoot her a grin.

“You are the absolute worst!” Ziggy screeches at me. “We will have ground rules, and one of them is that I am not at your disposal whenever you please.”

I lift my hands up in a sign of surrender. “Agreed. Everything will be mutual.” I take a swig of my beer before continuing, “We keep it strictly physical. No feelings, no strings attached. We’re doing this for mutually beneficial reasons for each of us.”

“Really?” Ziggy gives me a scathing look. “What is the benefit for me?”

“You get as many earth-shattering orgasms as you can handle while I continue with my winning streak,” I tell her with a smile.

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