Page 22 of The Puck Stops Here

‘Twinkle Toes?’

His eyes sparkled and she looked away, biting her cheek. This was hardly the stuff to convince him she was date material. But now she’d said it…

‘I was forever falling over my own feet.’

He gave a low chuckle. ‘You know what they say, practice makes perfect.’

‘Not if most of that practice is spent on my bum.’

Unless… She turned to look up at him. ‘Are you offering up your time to teach me, because in that case, I’d be a fool to say no.’

‘Great. Blake and I?—’

‘Blake? You’re volunteering him too?’

‘Anything to help get a glowing article in our name.’

‘Bribery?’ She tried not to let her panic set into her smile, because the idea of being in the care of his brother on the ice… that had a whole other fire lighting up within.

‘I prefer to call it a healthy exchange of skills.’

‘You know I’m getting paid to write this.’

‘See it as the icing on the cake then. Besides…’ He gave her a lopsided grin. ‘Anyone that looks at the ice like you do deserves to be at home on it.’

Fuuuck.He was being sweet again. Sweet and considerate and making her question everything!

‘You ready to move on?’ he asked.

‘Sure.’

If only she could move her thoughts on as easily… Aiden was the baddie, she was the goodie, and Blake was a distraction she needed to keep in a professional box.

* * *

‘What’s got you so riled?’

Blake grunted as he chest-pressed the barbell, racked it with a clang, and sat up.

‘Who says I’m riled?’ He fixed his glare on Larsson, their Swedish goalie and resident tattooed giant. Even Blake looked small next to him. The guy’s blond Viking man-bun as mean-looking as the rest of him – making him great in nets, not so great in an alley after dark.

Larsson gave a low rumble.Shiitt.Was that a laugh?

‘You grunt more than me today.’

Blake dragged his mouth back into a half smile. ‘Is that so?’

‘The gym was full before you came in.’ Larsson jutted his chin before executing a heavily loaded skater squat. ‘Now look at it.’

Blake rocked his head side to side, grabbed his water bottle off the floor and took a long slug. Larsson had a point. There’d been at least eight other guys hard at it when he’d arrived, five of them rookies, all of them gone. Not that he’d noticed them leave.

With the music playing full blast, he’d been locked in his own head, moving through the equipment with no thought to anyone or anything save for the ongoing battle in his head. The GM, Stella, Aiden, Astrid, the article from hell.

‘You saying we cleared the joint?’

‘I’m saying you did. No one cares what I’m doing. This is my setup, my space; they stay away and leave me to it.’

‘You saying they couldn’t do the same for me?’