Page 4 of On Ice

“Probably not.” He walks away and drops into one of the leather chairs. “But I’ll take a break from busting your balls. Want to tell me the real reason you bought this team? Because it’s not about the gambling operation. We both know there are easier ways to fix games.”

Below us, the teams clear the ice as the arena staff make final preparations. The stands are filling up, excitement building in the air. I’ve always loved this moment before a game, though I’ve rarely allowed myself to indulge in going to an actual game. My father had very specific ideas about appropriate pastimes for his heir. It didn’t include sports. Not unless you consider breaking guy’s kneecaps a sport.

“Do you remember that winter when we were twelve?” I move to the antiquated bar area to refresh our drinks. “When that pond behind my grandfather’s Villa froze over?”

Marco’s expression softens slightly. “Of course I remember. You convinced me to steal your cousin Anthony’s hockey gear so we could try playing. As I recall, he caught me and I had to bribe him.”

I chuckle. “Yep. But it was worth it.”

“Sure, until your father also caught us out on the ice.” He winces. “He was pissed.”

“He got over it.” I hand Marco his drink and settle into the chair opposite him. “But not before I had to listen to an hour-long lecture about wasting time on children’s games when I should be learning the business.”

“The business is pretty much all he ever thought about.”

“That’s true. And now it’s basically all I ever think about.” I stand, feeling agitated, and move to the window again to look out at the players below. I can’t seem to stop watching Riley play. He’s so damn skilled, it’s almost unnatural how good he is.

“Too bad he didn’t let you play hockey. You had analmostdecent shot.” Marco’s mouth quirks. “For a spoiled rich kid.”

I give him a dirty look. “Fuck you.” It’s an old joke between us. “I really was good and you know it.”

“You were. You were way better than me. But at least he let you golf. I love golf so it was a win for me.” Marco smirks and then sips his scotch.

I laugh. “Well, so long as you’re happy that’s all that matters.”

“Exactly.” He grins. “Because of who you are, we can walk onto any course in the country without even needing a tee time.”

“Golf is fine,” I murmur. “But hockey is more exciting.”

Marco frowns. “So, what is this? Some childhood fantasy or something? You buy a hockey team and feel young again?”

“I’m not trying to feel young. I just enjoy hockey.” I shrug. “I’ve kept up with hockey news and hoped to get close to the game again one day.”

“Really?” Marco laughs gruffly. “How come I’ve never seen you watch hockey?”

“I watch it when I’m alone.”

Marco lifts his dark brows. “That’s your dirty little secret? Most guys just hide their porn consumption. You hide hockey?”

“I had to, remember? I didn’t want Father chewing me out. But now I can do what I want because he’s gone, and I’m in charge.” I try to keep the resentment out of my voice. I’d loved my father dearly, but he’d been a hard man to please. I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t still a lot of bitterness lingering inside me. He went to his grave a year ago, and to this day, I have no idea if he was ever proud of me.

“You didn’t have to hide it from me,” Marco says, looking almost hurt.

I sigh. “It’s not like it consumed my life. I just enjoyed it, so I watched sometimes.”

“Still,” he mutters, “you could have toldme.”

I give Marco a lot of leeway, but I don’t want to be in a submissive position with him. Yeah, he’s my friend, but he’s also my second in command and I need him to remember that sometimes. So I force myself to scowl at him. “What’s with you? Are you on your period or something? I liked watching hockey, so I watched hockey.”

Pink tints his cheeks. “Fine.”

An awkward silence falls.

I drink my scotch, the ice clinking against the glass in the silent room. Clearing my throat, I say, “The real reason I bought the team is to make money. It wasn’t about my love of hockey. It’s first and foremost abusinessdecision.”

He doesn’t respond immediately, but then says, “I’m sure it will make money. Everything you touch makes money.”

“That’s right. I have good instincts.” The arena lights dim, and the crowd’s energy shifts from buzzing anticipation to focused excitement.

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