Page 13 of Icing the Enemy

“Thank you,” Emmaline says as Bryce whisks her away.

The music changes to a song from the 80s or 90s. I only know because my mom had an oldies playlist, and I recognize it. The DJ requests, “The bride has requested for everyone to get in twolines and anyone who can do an unusual dance move or a couple who can two step or whatever go down the middle.”

“Yes! Let’s go,” Emmaline yells.

Bryce glances at her. “Rusti, you’re not going to do your Jujitsu moves in your wedding dress, are you?”

Oakley’s eyes pinch together in confusion, so I explain, “When Bryce met Emmaline the first time, she gave him a fake name, Rusti. When they met again eight years later, she became his nanny and obviously told him her real name. Her brother plays for the Jets too.” I point at Roman standing with his girlfriend.

The guests form two lines on the dance floor asCelebrateby Kool and the Gang plays. Bryce and Emmaline start it by twirling her nonstop. When they get to the end, she’s dizzy and laughing. One girl does a ballet leap. Flynn spins on his back and propels himself back up. I turn to tell Oakley that Flynn used to do that in college, but she’s gone. I look around and suddenly, I see her in the bronze metallic dress, lying on the floor. The wedding guests clap and dance, while my college teammates and their wives yell, “Go, Oakley.”

She brings her arms close to her chest with her elbows bent. Arching her back slightly, she lifts her chest and head off the ground while her pelvis and legs are flat on the floor. Then in a fluid motion, she pushes her upper body forward while straightening her arms.

“Oh my God. She’s so freaking fun,” Emmaline screams. “She knows how to do the worm. Watch her go.”

Oakley pushes off her feet, pushing and pulling her body along the dance floor, creating smooth, wormlike movements. She’s laughing as she goes and obviously loves the attention. My opposite.

When she’s finished, I pull her to her feet with a smile that stretches wide. “I knew those tennis shoes would come in handy.”

Her eyes sparkle as she flings her arms around my neck.

“This is the most fun I’ve ever had.” She presses her lips to mine, and I wonder if I’m dreaming. Is it possible that I just met Oakley today? It already feels different—special.

I grab a glass of water for her, and she downs it as my friends come up and praise her. Fortunately, after that is over, the DJ cools everyone off with a slow song. But for me, it heats me up.

We dance for an hour or more, mainly slow, but every time I spin her out and fold her back into me, her face glows, so I keep doing it.

“Oakley?”

“Hmm?” She stares into my eyes.

“This is so unlike me to say, but I’m glad your car broke down.”

I peck the corner of her mouth, which turns into pecking her lips. She breaks the kiss and admits, “Me too.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see my teammates in the corner, waving me over. “I’ll be right back. We’re doing a college thing for Emmaline.”

“No worries, I’ll be watching.”

Our fingers linger before I walk away and join my friends in the corner. Emmaline’s brother Roman introduces himself to me and stays by my side as the Stallions plan their gig. They sit Emmaline in the center of the dance floor and make a circle around her as they try to rap.

"Listen up, folks, a new bride is in town. She’s joining the Stallions, and we won't let her down. From slap shots to cake cutting, we'll show her the way. She's now part of our team, like it or not, eh! So, let's raise our glasses and welcome her withcheers, another member of the Stallion family, we'll have no fears!"

We each give her a blue carnation until she has a full bouquet, then we finish it out by chanting, “We Are UK.”

I find Oakley talking to Roman and his date. “Hockey players are a rowdy crowd. I’m going to check on Dixie. I’ll be right back.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, stay and have fun. I’ll just take her out for a potty break. It will only take a few minutes.”

Leaning down into her ear, I say, “Don’t make me wait too long.”

Her lashes flutter, and her blue eyes shimmer in the pulsating light.

“I won’t. I promise.”

As she leaves, I see my old coach, Brooke’s dad. He just got a head coaching gig in the NHL.

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