Page 39 of ICED
He steps forward, just a little. Just enough that I feel his warmth.
“You don’t have to decide now,” he says gently. “Just think about it.”
I nod, eyes dropping to the bowl of glaze again. “Okay.”
Lila squeals and hugs his leg like it’s a tree trunk. “I’m gonna see Mr Bear play hockey!”
He ruffles her curls. “You better. I’m saving all my best skating for you.”
She beams up at him, and something twists in my chest.
Because this? This is dangerous.
This man, standing in my kitchen, laughing with my daughter, making her feel like she matters?
It’s not just sweet. It’s real.
And real is harder than anything else.
“You should go,” I say finally, keeping my voice light. “You probably smell like a locker room and someone’s definitely waiting to make you lift something heavy.”
“Jealous?”
“Deeply.”
He grins, tilts his head, and says, “You’ll come?”
“I’ll think about it.”
“I’ll take that.”
“You’ll take that as amaybe,Owen.”
He laughs. “Fair.”
Then he grabs his bag, offers Lila a high five, which she completely misses and turns into a full-body tackle, and heads for the door.
But just before he walks out, he pauses, glancing back over his shoulder.
“I’ll leave two seats open. Just in case.”
And then he’s gone.
Leaving behind the smell of lemon glaze, the echo of his smile, and the fluttering in my chest that’s getting harder and harder to ignore.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
JACKO
Game day.
My kit bag thuds against the changing room floor, my shoulder still warm from the gym session this morning, but the adrenaline’s already sparking beneath my skin.
Not because of the game though, it’s an exhibition day today, it’s supposed to attract new fans and showcase the local teams. That’s not what’s got my gut doing Olympic-level flips.
It’s my phone.
Or more specifically, what’s not on it.
