Page 74 of Iced Out

Which would be fine, except it’s the shoulder he tore last season along with his broken collarbone. And I’ve noticed him messing with it a lot more lately.

“You good?”

His brows furrow. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Reaching out, I run my index and middle fingers along his collarbone over to his shoulder. “I dunno. You’ve been rolling this a lot during practice. And then you just did it again a minute ago. So I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Oh,” is all he says, the frown still present on his face. “I guess I didn’t realize I did it.”

My teeth scrape over my bottom lip, becoming increasingly aware I pay far more attention to him than I thought I did. Or probably should, for that matter.

From the way he’s staring at me, confusion slowly shifting to realization, he’s figuring it out too.

“What’s that look for?”

His head slants to the side. “What look?”

“You tell me. You’re the one giving it.”

“I didn’t realize I was!”

We both laugh then, the intensity of the moment broken.

It feels great to laugh and joke with him, and even exist peacefully in a way I didn’t know our relationship could be. Two people who finally found common ground, and as it turns out, it’s all we needed to understand each other.

Which is why I’m not at all surprised by his next words.

“It’s just that you’re nothing like I expected.”

I feel my eyes crinkle around the edges with humor. “Uh, thanks?”

He laughs again. “I promise I don’t mean it in a bad way. You’re just…” He trails off and shakes his head. “I dunno how else to say it. Just unexpected.”

“Try explaining it, then.” I close my textbook and drop it off the edge of the bed, only to wince at the loudthudit makes when it hits the floor.

“Hayes is gonna think we’re fucking now,” he says, arching his brow.

I give him a dirty smirk as I spread out on my back. “I mean, we could be, but—”

“Not a chance in hell.”

I chuckle, rolling to my side and hitching up on my elbow. “You were talking about me being different than you thought?”

His eyes roll at my less than smooth reroute of the topic, and he mirrors my position.

“I guess when we’re on the ice, I’ve always had this picture of you in my head. The hotheaded bad-boy of the team who gets in more fights than Muhammad Ali and Rocky combined. Brash and reckless. A rebel, in a way. And so, I sorta just assumed it would extend to who you are off the ice too.”

I search his brown eyes for a minute. “And now you’re saying it doesn’t?”

He shakes his head and sinks to his back, eyes locked on the ceiling now. “No, you are. But you’remorethan those things too. Like sure, you’re still a pain in my ass ninety-eight percent of the time when you’re causing chaos on the ice—”

“I don’t do that anymore.”

“—but over the past couple months, I’ve started seeing your cockiness and attitude shifting into confidence in yourself and your abilities, not letting anyone tell you otherwise. And I guess...I kinda admire that.”

“Confident enough to corner you and suck your dick in the middle of a party,” I muse.

He snorts. “You say it like it was in the middle of the crowd dancing downstairs when we both know it was a lot more private. Again, surprising considering your reputation as a manwhore.”

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