“Oh, you didn’t,” he says. “Race you for it.”
“You’ve seen my running; I can’t win any races.” I protest but start skating anyway, with short, sharp movements.
He purposefully makes slower progress than me. The puck hits the boards and starts bouncing back. I can’t stop in time to change direction, so I bump into the boards. To my surprise, he lets the puck slide straight past him the opposite way and keeps coming at me, finally stopping with his arms on either side of mine, boxing me in. I’m giggling like a complete idiot, but he just chuckles his face close to mine. I can smell his shower gel and cologne, and I’ve never felt more aroused than I feel right now. It’s embarrassing.
“Caught you.”
“You weren’t supposed to be chasing me,” I say, my eyes fixed on his.
“Oh, my mistake.” He leans in, presses his forehead against mine and I forget how to breathe.
“We need to clear the ice.” A voice shouts from the Zamboni entrance. In a flash of movement, Ryan kicks my feet from under me and picks me up, slinging me over his shoulder.
“I’m far too heavy!” I shout, my legs flailing.
“Nonsense.”
He glides with ease back to the benches and plops me down, his hand lingering on my lower back. He stands up and steps back onto the ice, grabbing the last of the props.
“That was completely unnecessary.”
“Not for me,” he says and we make quick work of taking our skates off. “Do we have time for food? I’m starving. I can’t even think.”
“I’ve got some leftovers if you want that at my place?”
“Sold.”
Ryan
Arecognisableredhatchbackis waiting outside Jen’s place when we get there.
“Oh shit, that’s Becca dropping her car off for me. I forgot to text her.” I pull up and Jen hops out, apologising to Becca.
“Hey, lovebirds,” Becca says with a smile, her eyes darting between us. “Finished gushing yet, Jen?”
“What? There’s been no gushing!” Jen says. She looks mortified, but I find it hilarious.
“Speaking of gushing,” Jen says to Becca, “Ryan said that after the preseason opener, Danny had a girl over and she was a screamer. Any idea who Danny’s shagging?”
I have to suppress a laugh. Becca’s face is a picture, but she shakes her head.
“No, and I don’t want to hear about it.”
“It’s pretty difficult not to hear about it when you hear someone screaming his name,” I add, coughing to cover my amusement.
Becca looks horrified. “Ew, anyway, I’ve got to head off,” she says, scrambling to get in her car.
We wait for her to leave before Jen leads me to her place and opens the door. Her delicious fruity scent fills the air, and it feels oddly familiar here. Her kitchen is bright and white, clean but not clinical looking and her fridge is full of magnets from places she’s been.
“That was brilliant. Did you actually hear them?” she asks.
“Nah, didn’t hear a thing.”
She busies herself by boiling the kettle and heating the leftovers. “Are you sure you don’t have anywhere else to be today?”
“Nope.” And I mean it. There’s no place I’d rather be.
“So the pre-season is almost over. How are you feeling?” she asks, stirring the food.