Page 23 of The Ex Puck Bunny
Heidi and I rush toward each other and go still when we’re less than a hand-width apart. We rapidly went from frozen ice to thaw to pure snow melt. I can’t explain the extremes and am afraid of the conclusion if I try.
Her eyes search mine. Mine dip to her lips. Hers part.
We both inhale and then I’m cupping her jaw. I nose nuzzle hers with a nudge, offering us both a chance to rethink this, to draw away. But we don’t. Not even in the rain.
We’re both drenched now, but that doesn’t deter us.
I bring my lips softly to hers. Her hands grip my forearms, firming them in place.
The kiss doesn’t move from our lips pressed together but lingers there for a long, long breath. Long enough for it to fill me, to feel like this is dangerous, exhilarating, and like I want to sing in the rain as it patters around us.
Heidi smells like jelly beans. Her lips are so soft and this kiss is the sweetest thing I’ve ever experienced. It’s like a sigh after a long day. A deep inhale after a workout. Shelter in a monsoon.
And so very unexpected.
We part and track each other for a moment as mutual grins grow, yet our eyes remain heavy and fixed on the other as if this sudden attraction is surprising yet inevitable.
“We shouldn’t do that again,” she says with a smile as water drips from her hair.
We shouldn’t, but I hope we will.
CHAPTER FIVE
I’m not alonein wondering why Coach Badaszek picked me as a mid-season, recently off-suspension player to join the Nebraska Knights. The internet and armchair jockeys have been speculating for weeks now, so when I arrive at his office, I’m more curious than I am nervous even though Badaszek has a reputation for causing people, even burly defensemen, to experience the latter.
I vaguely recognize his assistant. As far as I can tell, we’re about the same age.
She welcomes me with a smile. “How does it feel to be back?”
“As a member of the home team and not a visitor?”
“I mean in Cobbiton.”
Do I know her? If so, I need to find a yearbook and match faces and names. “It’s the same, yet different.”
“Better, if you ask me. I lived in LA for the last few years and was all too happy to come home.”
I’ve never really thought of this place as home, at least not as a welcoming place unless I was at the Rice’s house. Mythoughts drift to when I dropped Heidi off last night. My pulse jumps from zero to an I-just-did-a-workout pace at the memory of her lips on mine.
“The Ice Palace is a new addition,” I say to fill the silence.
“The Barn was great, but this is a major upgrade.”
I nod, recalling last night when I came to check out my new/old home turf, er, ice. The arena is relatively new, having replaced the Barn, the old rink, though that still stands. I hear it might become a museum and public skate place, depending on the funding the CAC receives.
Here, the main concourse is huge and makes me feel like I’m in a giant igloo. The concessions area won’t leave fans waiting long for food and warm drinks—though like every other rink and arena I’ve been in, it smells like popcorn. Aside from this being Cobbiton, aka Corn Central, perhaps that’s why they serve it at the Fish Bowl. The merch shop overflows with fan swag. The locker room and lounge are well-appointed with loads of amenities. Plus, the galley for us players to fuel up contains a fully stocked pantry. This reminds me that I need to pick up some groceries at the market. I’d much rather be doing that than being scrutinized by my new coach.
“You can wait here. Dadaszek will be ready to meet with you in a couple of minutes,” the coach’s assistant says. From where I’m sitting, a plant blocks the name placard on her desk.
Hold up. Did she say Dadaszek as inDador is being back in Cobbiton tearing open my wounds?
Mr. Rice was as close as I got to a father, which was pretty great all things considered. He taught me how to change a tire, jump a dead battery, and tie a tie. Plus, the guy loves hockey and encouraged me during the ups and downs that brought me to the NHL. He sends me a text the day of all my games, telling me toCrush ‘em.
I regret falling out of touch with the Rices the last few yearsand declining their invitations for Thanksgiving and Christmas—mostly because reminders of this place are still painful. Derek and I talk every few weeks and it’s great to hang out with him again. In fact, after this meeting, I’m heading to his place to help him move his new couch. One good turn deserves another and all that.
To my surprise, Heidi was here last night too. I had no idea she and Trey had a kid. That she’s now a single mom. As far as I can tell, she’s nothing like mine, who was largely absent. If I were to suggest someone grow up anywhere, it would be with the Rice family.
Trey blew it big time.
