Page 75 of Trouble in Love
“Wait,” she cut in, “I didn’t mean.”
“I know what you meant, and you’re worried and want to protect me, but for once, can you just be happy for me?”
She might not have been happy, but she was silent.
“Ana, are you still there?”
After a long pause, she softly replied, “No.”
“Well, I wish you were. Then I could tell you about Polly and how happy she makes me. And about how she knows about Dad. She knows I’m bi that I say yep and nope and blush every time someone hot says a dirty word. She even knows I have a sister who’s an absolute pain in my ass but who I love with all my heart. Then I’d ask you to dinner at our house next week so you could meet her.”
“If I were there I would probably say yes.”
“Really? That would be awesome. Especially since I would ask you to do me a favor.”
“And I would likely say yes to whatever it was because I would do anything to make up for being a total bitch.”
“You’re not a total bitch, Ana. Just a mini, angry, bitter one.”
“You have five seconds to tell me what you want before I change my mind.”
Four of those seconds were consumed by both of us cackling before I finally spat out my request. “So that favor … I need you to buy us a house to have dinner in.”
The high I felt a shower and a phone call ago, which had evaporated into nothingness, resurfaced the second I saw her sitting on the bench in a helmet and gloves.
“You look so fucking cute, I can’t take it.”
“Thanks.” Her smile was barely visible through the mask, but I could see it. Just as I could the glint in her eyes. “It really stinks in here, and these,” she said, motioning to the gloves and almost dislodging the helmet, “these are wet. I didn’t know hands could sweat so much.”
“Yep. They sure do. If you think the helmet stinks, wait till you smell skates.”
“Yeah, I think I can live without that.”
“Oh, but you can’t, my dear.” I plonked down beside her and tapped the top of her head. “You’re an official hockey wife now, and that means you need to wash and clean my bag after each game.”
“I hate to get you off your high horse, Cowboy, but if you wanted a little woman to run around doing all your cooking and cleaning, you picked the wrong one.”
“But you love cooking, and you’re so good at it.”
“I am. And any more nonsense like that will ensure you’ll never taste it again.”
“Fuck you’re hot when you’re grumpy.”
“And you’re hot when you’re skating.” The helmet came off, and Polly’s lips instantly met mine. “Will you teach me?” She said between kisses. “I went to the skate shop in the foyer while you were showering and bought some.
“Teach you to skate? Now?”
“If you’re not too tired.”
I was tired, exhausted, in fact, but nothing was keeping me from slapping my skates on again and carrying my girl out onto the ice.
“Polly, I have to say, you look so hot right now. Flushed cheeks, denim cutoffs, tanned legs, and white skates are a special kind of sexy. Maybe we should forget the skating and go make out.”
“Or maybe you can keep it in your pants for five seconds and be professional.”
Gripping her by the waist, I wriggled my brows and ducked down to bury my face in her neck. “God, you smell good, and I am being professional ... a professional player.”
“Look, creepoid, are we doing this or not?” She laughed despite herself, and fuck if I didn’t love it. Under my touch, the self-declared ice queen had well and truly melted.
