Page 111 of Icy Pucking Play

"That you're still a grumpy goalie." She grins. "You just save all your smiles for me."

"Is that right?"

"Mmhmm." She takes a swing that somehow sends the ball ten feet backward.

She retrieves her ball. "Besides, you're much less intimidating now that everyone knows you make chocolate chip pancakes for dinner for Natalia."

I move behind her, adjusting her stance. "You just had to include that detail, didn't you?"

"It was vital to the story." She leans back against me, pushing her ass up against me just slightly. "Really showed your softer side."

"I don't have a softer side."

"Sure you don't." She tilts her head up. "Just like you don't secretly love romantic comedies."

"That was one time! And you tricked me."

"I did not trick you. I simply...neglected to mention the genre when I suggested movie night."

"You said it was an action movie!"

"There was action." She grins. "They ran through an airport. And then there was loads of action in the bedroom later on."

Mike's voice cuts through our ridiculous conversation. "Are you two actually golfing or just flirting again?"

Because, of course my teammates decided to join us today. Something about, "Making sure the Ice Man doesn't get too soft."

"We're practicing!" Sophie retorts.

"That's not what practice looks like," Tom teases.

"It is when your student is hopeless," I mutter.

Sophie elbows me. "I’m right here, dude."

"I’m well aware."

"You know," she adjusts her grip on the club, "some would say it's the teacher's fault if the student doesn't improve."

"Is that what you tell Natalia about her math grades?"

"No, because I'm an excellent math teacher." She takes another swing, this one sending the ball into the trees. "Golf is just...physics-resistant."

"Physics-resistant?"

"Yes. It refuses to obey the laws of nature." She shields her eyes, trying to spot her ball. "Like your smile. Statistically impossible, yet somehow I keep causing it."

"You smiled today," Natalia had said at dinner last week. "Like, three whole times."

"I did not."

"Did too. Sophie counted." She'd grinned. "She keeps track of everything about you."

"Still?" I'd looked at Sophie, who was blushing.

"Always," she'd said softly. "Some stats are worth tracking."

"Focus," I tell her, trying to keep my hands steady as I adjust her grip. "You're supposed to be learning golf."

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