Page 84 of Test the Ice
His deep chuckle snags my attention, and I find myself meeting his eye again. “Your voice gets all high-pitched,” he notes, taking a step closer. “And you always look away.”
“I do not,” I argue.
It takes everything in me not to do just that.
“Your pulse races too.”
I scoff. “It does not.”
He lifts an eyebrow, and before I can figure out what he’s doing, he grips my wrist and presses his fingers to the skin below my palm. “Let’s check it, shall we?”
I tug my hand backward, but he doesn’t let go.
Malaki’s brow furrows beneath the few strands of his hair that have fallen out of place throughout the night. He’s silently counting under his breath, and the longer I stare at his mouth moving, the faster my pulse gets.
Those blue eyes flick to mine, and I freeze. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on and why you snatched your phone out of my hand faster than I can send a puck flying into the net?”
The thought of going back into the event, with the pretense that Benedict or someone he knows is watching my every move, makes me nauseated, and whether I want to or not, I can’t only rely on myself at the moment.
The second I lied and said that Malaki was my fiancé was the second I involved him.
I pull on my arm, and Malaki lets me go.
My hands hang by my sides. “I think Benedict is here.” I wince with my admittance. “Or someone he knows. It wouldn’t surprise me. He has money. His entire family does.”
Malaki’s swallow is loud enough for me to hear. His temples move back and forth with the grinding of his jaw, and I don’tknow if it’s the dark lighting of the hallway that’s making him appear dangerous or if it’s something else.
“Why do you think that?” he asks.
I reach inside my clutch and show him the message.
It was sent an hour ago, shortly after we arrived.
Malaki scans the text, the phone screen illuminating his stern brow. He quickly clicks my phone off, shoves it into his pocket instead of my clutch, and grabs a hold of my hand.
“I hope he is here,” he says, tugging me back toward the event.
“What?” My steps come to a halt. “Why?”
Malaki angles toward me. The flirty glint in his eye switches to a blue flame full of determination and passion. “So I can show him that the ring on your finger isn’t just for decoration.”
There’s a dip in my stomach, and this time, when Malaki tugs on my hand, I make no move to stop him.
Twenty-Nine
MALAKI
“If you see him,you tell me, yeah?”
Reese peers at me from her shorter frame, that glossy lip tucked in beneath her teeth. She nods before scanning the crowd.
When I came to find her, after talking to Coach Jacobs about the potential to sit me out for the next game to lower the risk of injuries for the playoffs, I was ready to ask her if she wanted to leave, but now here I am, letting my protectiveness take charge.
Don’t you mean possessiveness?
I give my subconscious the middle finger and wrap my arm around Reese’s waist for all to see.
At least this gives me an excuse to touch her more—something I’ve been trying to reel in since seeing her in this dress. The slit in the fabric plays with my emotions, and the only thing I want to do is take her back to that hallway we were just in and have my way with her.
