Page 16 of Collide
His concern dampens when he hears my tone. “If you don’t know how to skate, they keep cones for the kids right over there.”
“Very funny. I can skate just fine.” I wipe ice from my thighs. “I could probably beat you in a race.”
He’s looking down at me with amusement. “Beat me? You’re literally still on the ground from falling.”
He offers his hand but I scramble up on my own. When I regain my balance, I stare into his eyes. “Scared?”
“For you? Yeah.”
I shoot him a blank look.
“You’re serious?” he asks, his tone disbelieving.
I nod.
“What’s the bet?”
“That I win.” An overstatement that I regret as soon as I voice it. I’m confident, not stupid, but right now his smug face is challenge enough. Even if I may not be able to walk tomorrow.
“I only play for stakes.”
Seriously, is he some kind of gambler? “Fine. If I win…” I think for a bit, then smile. “You have to agree to anything I suggest during our sessions without complaint.”
His jaw hardens and I smile knowing I have him. “And when I win, you’ll tell Coach I was so great, your research is complete early.”
My jaw drops. There was way too much work to do. Too many questionnaires and assessments to complete. There is no way I could produce accurate results on my own. “But that’s not possible.”
“Scared?” He throws my words back at me.
I grind my teeth to stop myself from making an insolent comment. I almost deny him, but his cocky smirk makes me clench my fists and remember exactly why I don’t like hockey players. “Fine. I’m going to win anyway.”
His low chuckle ghosts over my skin. “And they say I’m cocky.”
“Confident,” I correct.
That makes him smile wider, and I ignore it to skate to the boards. “Straight shot to the other end?”
“Yeah,” he says but he still doesn’t put his back against the boards.
“Ready—”
“Helmet.”
“Huh?”
“Put on a helmet or we’re not doing this.”
“You’re not wearing one,” I accuse. “Is your massive head made of steel?”
“I can manage not cracking my skull open. You, on the other hand, I’m not so sure.”
I scoff. “Well, too bad because I don’t have one.” I should really put one on. After attending that brain dysfunction seminar last semester, I know better than to compromise my brain health.
Aiden turns to grab something from behind the net. “Here.”
I stare at the helmet in his hand. It’s not a cage and instead a visor they wear for some practices. “How is my head going to fit in your helmet?”
“Better than slamming your bare head on the ice.”
