Page 51 of Ice Mechanic

At this rate, I’ll miss April.

Desperate and naked, I call Max.

There’s no answer, which means he’s still mid-interview with the local news.

“Bobby!” I hiss, through the door. My towel slips and I reach with one hand to snap it up before I expose myself. “Bobby!”

The friendly maintenance man doesn’t show.

Wracking my brain, I search for another solution.

In the corner of the locker, an abandoned mascot head stares at me with unseeing eyes. I pick up the giant head and bring it to my waist, gauging its length and width.

Yup. Should be enough to cover the maker of my future children.

I secure the towel tightly, adjust the mascot head in front of me and tiptoe outside. I keep another gym bag in my car with an extra set of clothes, underwear and sneakers. If I can just get to the parking lot without being spotted…

“Chance?” Max’s voice rings loudly in the microphone the reporter has stuck to his face.

The camera swings to me at the same time.

The reporter blushes.

The camera zooms in on the mascot head.

Since there’s nothing to do but go with it, I straighten and wave a little for the camera. Unfortunately, removing my hand from the mascot head makes it unstable and the whole thing topples lower on my body.

Max springs forward and blocks me from the camera. “O-kay.” He clasps his hands together. “I think our interview is over now. Can you turn that off?”

Bobby pops out of the hallway on the opposite end of the stadium. His eyes widen and he scurries toward me. Max sees him coming too and sighs in relief.

“Is this your new mascot theme?” the journalist asks, eyeing me up and down like I’m a juicy steak on the grill and she hasn’t eaten all day.

“Uh…” Max’s eyes dart all around.

The side door screams open and a group of grey-haired older women march in, cackling loudly. They’re all wearing thick leggings, neon-green headbands and knee pads.

“Who are they?” I squeak, petrified.

Max slaps his forehead with his palm. “I forgot. The rollerblading rink is closed for renovations so these ladies are learning to skate.”

I grind my teeth in embarrassment.

Bobby arrives, his eyes still wide.

“Take Chance to my office. There are clean clothes in my locker. I’ll see the reporters out; make sure they delete the footage.” Max glides away, smiling broadly at the news team. “Where were we?”

The female reporter gives me one more interested look before allowing Max to tug her away.

“Where are your clothes?” Bobby hisses, tugging on my arm.

“That’s my question too,” I grumble.

From behind me, I hear snickering. Four familiar hockey players are in the bleachers, kicking their feet up and watching it all go down.

Gunner and his posse look smug.

My eyes narrow.Real mature.

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