Page 52 of Hot Mic, Cold Ice

This waiting game can make or break us. We have to use the time wisely or the confidence and ability of the team will falter. It’s a crucial time to rest, recover, and prepare. But it also gives me a chance to spend more time with Ziggy. After convincing her to skip going back home and just stay with me until she has to report to work, I’m going to make the most of the situation.

I need her more than I am still willing to admit. Being around her more makes me notice the lack of her presence when she isn’t around. This awareness makes everything feel different and more intense. In my mind, we aren’t just fuck buddies anymore. The lines have blurred, and it scares the hell out of me. Every moment we spend together outside of the arena makes it clearer that I want more from this, from her. But the fear of ruining everything looms over me like a dark cloud.

Day one of ‘Operation Time Off with Ziggy’ starts with simple things—grabbing coffee, going for walks, and spending the lazy afternoon at my place. It's easy and comfortable. Ziggy has this way of making the world seem less chaotic, and I find myself confiding in her more than I ever have with anyone else.

As the days go on, we fall into a rhythm. We wake up late, make breakfast together, and just enjoy each other’s company. We talk about everything—our dreams, our fears, the future. It’s during one of these conversations that I realize that I can see her as a permanent fixture in my life, and that thought scares the absolute shit out of me.

By night three I have lost all cognitive function and am spilling all of my secrets. As we sit on my patio overlooking the mountains in the distance, the sunset painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, I turn to Ziggy, feeling a heavy pressure as I prepare to share something that scares me to even say out loud.

“You know, Zig,” I begin, my voice softer than usual, “I’ve been thinking a lot about the future lately.”

She looks at me, curiosity evident in her eyes. “Yeah? What about it?”

I take a deep breath, glancing out at the horizon. “I love playing hockey, I really do. But I’ve started to realize that I want to do more with my life than just play the game. I’ve never told anyone this before, but it’s my hope that one day, especially with the pod, media could be my thing.”

Ziggy’s eyes widen slightly, and she leans in closer. “Really? I mean, the podcast is great, but I had no idea you felt that way about it.”

I nod, a wave of nervous relief washing over me. “Yeah. It’s something I can see myself doing long after my playing days are over. I want to make an impact, you know? Talk about things that matter, connect with people in a different way.”

She smiles, her hand reaching out to rest on mine. “That’s incredible, Elliot. And you’re so good at it. I think it’s amazing that you have this vision for yourself.”

I squeeze her hand, the warmth that she provides me spreading through me. “Thanks, Zig. It means a lot to hear you say that. Sometimes, it feels like everyone sees me as a hockey player. But with you... I feel like I can be more.”

She smiles brightly, and she squeezes my hand back. “You can be anything you want, Elliot. No matter what, I’ll be cheering you on.”

As we sit there, the stars beginning to twinkle in the night sky, I feel a newfound sense of clarity, more determined of my future. Sharing this dream with Ziggy lifts a weight off my shoulders, and since the first time since being drafted to play professional hockey, I feel like I am still on the right path.

The next morning Ziggy somehow convinces me to go to the spa with her. A place I openly despise but secretly findoddly appealing. As we step into the tranquility, with its soft music and soothing scents, I roll my eyes and grumble about the absurdity of it all, I can't help it. Yet, as we settle into the relaxing treatments and I feel the tension in my muscles ease, I secretly love every minute of it. Watching Ziggy’s content smile and feeling the stress melt away, maybe this spa thing isn’t so bad after all. But I will never admit that to her, of course.

Tomorrow is Game One and I am physically feeling great, my focus is in the zone. After the spa, I have to start my night-before-a-game ritual. We have dinner at my place. As we finish our meal, I look at Ziggy, the words caught in my throat. I want to tell her everything, to lay my heart bare. But the fear of losing her, of complicating things, holds me back.

Instead of telling Ziggy how I feel about her, I decide to show her in the way we both understand best—through our physical connection. I take her hand and lead her to my bed. We lose ourselves in each other, the intensity of our connection bringing every feeling to the forefront.

As I kiss her deeply, my hands roaming her body, I try to convey every unspoken word. The way I touch her, the urgency and tenderness together, is my silent confession. Each movement is deliberate, a means to communicate my feelings in a language I am capable of sharing. I pour my emotions into every kiss and every caress, hoping she can feel how much she means to me without needing the words. The way she responds, seeking everything from me with her eyes, her body, gives me hope that maybe on the other side of the playoffs there can be more to our relationship.

Afterward, as we lie there, a strange sense of peace fills me. Ziggy stirs beside me, her eyes fluttering open.

“Ziggy, I... I think I like you,” I begin, my voice low, almost hesitant.

She shifts slightly in my arms, looking up at me, a flash of something, maybe fear or apprehension crosses over her face. “Elliot, don’t. Now isn’t the right time,” she says softly but firmly.

I frown, my heart sinking. “Why not? We can’t keep pretending this is just casual. There’s more here, Zig. I know you feel it, too.”

She sighs, her fingers tracing absent patterns on my chest. “There’s too much at stake right now. You need to focus on the playoffs, and I have my job. We can’t afford any distractions.”

I don’t hide the frustration in my voice. “So, what? Pretend it doesn’t matter?”

Her eyes meet mine, and I see the conflict there. “It’s not that it doesn’t matter, Elliot. It does. But we have to be smart about this. We can’t let our feelings get in the way of everything we’ve worked for.”

I understand her rationale, the need to prioritize our goals and aspirations over the unpredictable realm of emotions. We have invested countless hours, blood, sweat, and tears into building the life each of us desire. Yet, my heart rebels against the logic that dictates we suppress our feelings.

I grind my teeth, helpless to my own feelings. “Fine.”

How can I ignore the overwhelming rush of emotions that consume me whenever I am near her? How can I deny the magnetic pull that draws us together, defying all reason? In the moment, I let the wave of helplessness wash over me.My own feelings conspire against me, threatening to dismantle everything we’ve painstakingly built. The conflict within my soul rages, torn between the desire to follow my heart and the fear of jeopardizing our hard-earned success.

Chapter 40

The media's attention on Elliot is causing the two of us to separate ourselves now more than ever. There is always someone lurking around with a camera, ready to catch the slightest hint of anything newsworthy. Let's be honest here, things with Elliot are heating up way faster than I ever anticipated. He is about three moves away from setting my life, body, and soul on fire. It is probably for the best that we are forced into a news induced time out.

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