Page 6 of Puck Happens

“You scared?” she asked when I hesitated.

Fuck it. Little Miss Toe Pick was going to learn an important lesson today.

“Yeah, I’ll go. I’ll spot you two laps? To ten?”

“How about four laps to twenty?” she countered.

As one of the best forwards in the league, my line shifts were about sixty seconds. The rink was two hundred feet end to end, around six hundred feet per lap. I did the quick math in my head, because I was a hockey player, but not an idiot. That was a little more than two miles at about ten miles per hour.

Fast, but not crazy fast. And there was no way she would be able to keep up, so I wouldn’t have to go all out for the full twenty laps.

Not to mention, it would be a solid cardio workout, which is what I was looking for.

“Deal.”

We skated to the home team penalty box. “What do I get if I win?” I asked her.

“Bragging rights.”

“I’m not sure I’m going to want to brag about beating a girl.”

Her eyebrows went sky high. “No?” She laughed. “Afraid of what the other cavemen will say about you?”

I smiled. Wendy would like this woman. I liked this woman. It was in me to ask for a kiss, but I wasn’tthatkind of caveman.

“Ready?” she asked, getting into her crouch. That leotard made the most of every muscle in her body.

“Always,” I shot back. “Set,” I said, and she went still. Her eyes focused. Why was that so hot? “Go!”

She took off like a speed skater and I hung back.

One lap, two laps, three laps.

Shit, she wasn’t slowing down even a little. No, she was gettingfaster.

When she passed me on the fourth lap I took off. I was three laps in when I realized I had a problem. I was skating all out, and of course I was catching up to her, but not at the pace I needed to overcome her head start.

Five laps in, I passed her, making up one lap.

Ten laps and I passed her again, but I was breathing heavily from the effort. My heart rate was way up. My mouth dry and my vision narrowed.

Didn’t matter. I’d let my heart explode in my chest before I stopped.

The good news was, I didn’t have to get to that point. I was just hitting my eighteenth lap when she finished.

The bad news was, I’d lost.

To a girl.

She let herself glide along the ice after her victory. Fists on her hips, head tilted back. Chest heaving up and down. And that smile. The smile of victory was absolutely glorious on her face. It almost,almosttook away the sting of defeat.

“So…” she said as she skated by me where I was doubled over, my hands on my thighs. “The question is…what do I… win?”

“Whatever…you want.” I meant it. This woman had me intrigued.

“Tempting,” she said, as we both got our breath back.

“Tell me… your… name,” I shouted to her.

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