Page 82 of As You Ice It

“Yeah. Maybe we could bring Mike sometime? With Jordan,” I add quickly. “Just in case. I don’t really know what to do if Mike has an issue.”

“You’d want to do that?” he asks, and I’m not sure why he’s acting like going to a hockey game is some massive inconvenience.

“It’s no big deal,” I tell him.

He kisses me once, deeply but quickly and then steps back. “It is a big deal,” he says, and his smile looks a little sad. “You have no idea how big of a deal it is.”

CHAPTER18

Camden

Naomiand I have basically regressed back into living like teenagers. At least, that’s how it feels. Stolen moments interrupted too soon. Never enough time.

And a whole lot of kissing in cars.

“Mmm,” Naomi says. The word vibrates my lips, which are on her throat.

“Do that again,” I whisper.

“I will, ifyoudothatagain,” she says.

When I kiss her again in the same spot, she repeats the sound. I’m not even sure she did it because I asked so much as because I’ve found a sensitive spot. I capture the taste and feel of her sound again with my mouth.

I can sense bright light through my closed eyes, and Naomi pulls away as a car turns onto her street. We’re in the front seat of my SUV, parked in her driveway, fully in view. My windows are tinted, but not nearly enough to provide actual cover.

Dropping my head back against my headrest, I groan. “This is ridiculous. I feel like I’m sixteen again.”

“Is this what you were doing at sixteen, Camden?” Naomi’s voice sounds amused, but when I tilt my head to look at her, I see a spark of something else too.

Jealousy?

“You’re giving me way too much credit. I didn’t have nearly this much game at sixteen. I also had a ton of acne. A lovely by-product of playing hockey.”

“Is that a thing? Hockey acne?”

“It can be. Think about it: normal hormones plus gear that fits around your face combined with sweat. It’s like a bacteria factory.”

“Ew!” Naomi grabs the door handle. “You have just effectively killed the vibe. Goodnight!”

Before she can escape, I reach across, taking her hand off the door and linking our fingers. Leaning closer, I brush my lips against the shell of her ear, keeping my voice low. “Are yousureI killed the mood?”

Naomi sighs. “Not totally sure. We should probably test it.”

We do. Long enough to fog up the car windows a bit, which only makes me feel more like a teenager—one with less acne and more game than I had back then, of course.

Every chance we get, Naomi and I are together. The problem is—there aren’t many chances. It’s late February, and we’re in a constant churn of games. Having Naomi and Liam at all my home games has given me a renewed love of being on the ice. And whether I’m just noticing because I’m dialed in or something else has shifted in our team dynamics, we’re all playing better than we ever have. I feel more connected, as though being with Naomi has allowed me to open up with my teammates, too.

But off the ice, it’s a constant stream of events. Workouts and recovery with the trainers, charity work, community appearances, interviews, social media days. I haven’t missed the mounting tension between Coach and the owner about all the added work. A few of the guys’ agents have pushed back about contractual obligations, but so far, we haven’t seen any signs of cutting back.

I did hear rumors that some reps from the AHL were here—lawyers and the VP of hockey operations. Hopefully, they’ll help Larry get back on track so we can have a more reasonable schedule.

If that weren’t enough, I have Mike, and Naomi has Liam.

Despite having people I trust at home to watch over him, it isn’t the same as someone who cares for him. I feel guilty every time I choose to be somewhere other than home with him. And though he’s doing fine, I wouldn’t say he’sthriving. Jordan tells me Mike is just bored and needs purpose. But I’m not sure what to do about that, and it’s not exactly under the purview of the caretakers making sure he doesn’t wander off or accidentally leave the oven on.

Naomi and I have managed a few dates here and there, but it’s not easy. Our relationship is mostly built on a foundation of text messages and stolen kisses. It’s nowhere near enough.

I keep telling myself that things will be different in the off-season, but I’m honestly not sure that’s true. I’ll still have Mike. Naomi will still have her job, and I haven’t asked what her plan is yet for Liam.

---