Puckless (Hockey Heroes Book 1), page 9
“It looks like we both have a lot of reasons to feel grateful.”
An uncomfortable silence passed between us. I blushed slightly under Ryan’s steady gaze. It was a look of appreciation, maybe even desire, but I felt pinned to my seat like a bug in a display case. I had to say something to move the conversation forward.
“The hash browns are top-notch,” I said, hoping he wouldn’t notice I was a little flustered. “You ought to try a bite.”
“Sure,” he agreed, impaling a portion from my plate with a playful grin. “Mmm, you are right. Spectacular.”
“See, I told you.” The conversation eased, but my pulse still thundered in my ears.
I continued eating, but the atmosphere had subtly shifted—something electric was in the air, a longing we both recognized but neither of us was willing to voice.
Suddenly, Ryan laughed. “Ever heard of love at first bite? This is beyond ridiculous.”
“Hey, I revere my hash browns,” I said, playfully defensive.
“Evidently.” Ryan’s smile was infectious, and his laughter helped reduce the tension between us.
Our breakfast ended with a series of shared stories about hockey practice and games. “Remember how we met? I mean, formally or sort of informally formally met? You came sliding across the ice right to my feet.” I heard the laughter underlying Ryan’s comment.
“Thanks for that walk down embarrassment lane,” I groaned, vividly recalling the incident.
“It’s just good-natured fun.”
As we left the comfort of the diner to step into the piercing chill of winter, Ryan shivered. I instinctively wrapped my arms around him from behind and rubbed my gloves against his chest to warm him up.
“Bitter cold,” I muttered.
“But I might be able to handle it if it comes with benefits like this,” Ryan said as I gently kissed the side of his neck. “I expect a hockey champ like you—oh, mmm, that’s good— has gotten used to this.”
“Rink cold and outside winter cold are two different things,” I argued as I rubbed my rosy cheek against his. “On the ice, I’m always moving and keeping warm.”
“Can’t argue there,” he admitted. “I’m a little sad that you’re leaving on the road trip. I can’t deny that.”
“Right,” I echoed. I loved hanging out with my teammates on the road, but I knew this one would be different. I would miss Ryan. I did my best to buck up and not spoil our last minutes together before I had to catch the bus. “Speaking of, I need to stock up on snacks for the journey. You know, post-hash-brown sustenance.”
“Understandable,” he chuckled. “We wouldn’t want you famished on the bus.”
“God forbid. I might start rummaging through Marek’s pockets. He brings Czech candy bars.”
Our easy conversation continued while we walked the few short blocks to a convenience store.
“Do you reckon the cook thought you were set to raid his bacon supplies?” Ryan asked.
“It’s a good thing I couldn’t see the kitchen from our table,” I smiled and rubbed my hands together for warmth. “I might have raced back there to stock up for my long journey.”
“We would have been thrown out for sure.”
It only took me a few minutes in the store. I loaded up with two chocolate bars, a bag of chips, and an energy drink. “I think this will get me to our destination,” I said.
After the stop, we walked another block to the intersection where it was time to part ways—me toward the idling team bus and Ryan in the direction of his car. The icy wind nipped at my cheeks, but it was no match for the warmth I experienced hanging out with Ryan.
“Guess it’s goodbye then,” I said, awkwardly shuffling my feet. It was the first time since joining the Mitts that I had to say goodbye to someone before a road trip. I suddenly had more empathy for the guys who said farewell to girlfriends and family members.
“Only for a few days,” Ryan said.
“Wait,” I blurted out. “I almost forgot…”
“Forgot what?” Ryan looked at me with a raised eyebrow.
“My lucky socks!” I exclaimed, grasping at straws. “I can’t possibly leave without them. They’re—back at my apartment.”
“Lucky socks? Why is this the first I’ve heard of them?”
I sighed heavily. “You’re not buying it, are you? It was my last ditch effort to miss the team bus.” I kicked at the sidewalk and laughed softly.
“Maybe we do need to get you some lucky socks.”
I laughed. “And be superstitious? Never!”
“I’ll miss you, Ethan,” Ryan admitted softly.
“And I, you,” I echoed, a lump forming in my throat.
“Kick some ass on the trip,” he said, stepping closer and wrapping me up in a hug. I held him tight and wished that time could stop.
For the first time, I didn’t look around to see if anyone was watching when I kissed him. It was quick, but it was public. When I pulled back, I saw Ryan’s green eyes sparkling.
“Wow,” he exhaled as he pulled away
“Sorry, I just—“ I started to speak, but I was unsure about what to say.
“No need for apologies,” he smiled. “It surprised me—that’s all, and thank you.”
“I’ll miss you,” I repeated.
“Likewise—now go show ’em what you’re made of.”
With that, I turned toward the bus, my heart brimming with happiness, eager for a passionate kiss upon my return.
FOURTEEN
RYAN
A weary sigh echoed through my apartment, mingling with the hum of my laptop as I grappled with writing my weekly piece on minor league hockey highlights. It was already late afternoon, and I’d neglected to open the curtains covering my living room window. The murky shadows reflected the state of my heart.
Ethan had been gone for two days on his road trip with the team. They were due back the following evening, but I wouldn’t see him until the day after that at the earliest.
My collection of air plants would have demanded more light if they could. My most cherished possession, a majestic staghorn fern perched by the window, stretched its fronds toward the curtain as if searching for the elusive sun. Ethan promised to stop in and check it out, but I’d have to wait a while longer.
“Focus, Ryan,” I muttered, trying to chase the distraction from my mind. It was a futile task. The memory of Ethan’s blue eyes, like two frozen lakes, was a relentless intruder, sending waves of longing coursing through my mind.
“Damn it. I can’t—not now,” I growled under my breath, snapping my laptop shut.
In search of something that could take my mind off Ethan, I reached for my phone and dialed Arlo. “Hey, I seriously hate to ask this, but are you interested in an impromptu road trip? You can spend the night, and I’ll spring for pizza tonight and breakfast in the morning. I could use some company.”
He responded after a brief pause. “With pleasure, Monsieur,” he said, his voice brimming with his irresistible eccentric energy. “Be right there—just a couple of hours. What is that? The time it takes for a good bubble bath with a rubber ducky?”
Arlo knew how to make an entrance. The rebellious red spikes of his hair looked like they’d battled with a minor hurricane. He took in the disarrayed state of my apartment with a quick glance. “What’s got you in a tangle?.” He reached out and pulled open the living room curtains. “Your charming little green cohabitants are shouting for the light of day.”
“Thoughts about—well, you know,” I admitted, unable to mask the truth from Arlo.
“Ah, the ice god strikes again,” he observed. “Remember, missing him validates your connection. It’s a testament to the blossoming authenticity of your bond. True hearts never lie.”
A small smile danced across my face. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.” He knew how to provide comfort despite his quirky words and appearance.
“Indubitably,” Arlo beamed, lighting up the room. “Now, when does the pizza arrive?”
As if on cue, the doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of our decadent dinner. Arlo eagerly bounded toward the door in his neon green sneakers while I trailed behind, grabbing my wallet off the kitchen counter.
We settled in on my plush couch with our slices of pizza and turned on some old-school rock music. As we chatted and laughed, I felt myself finally relaxing for the first time all day.
“Did you know an inventor originally devised the QWERTY keyboard layout for manual typewriters to prevent their mechanical arms from jamming?” He asked.
I laughed. “No, I had no idea. It seems you are still on the topic of antique typewriters.”
Arlo grinned. “I’m a fountain of knowledge, my friend. They’ve nearly outworn their welcome, but I thought I would grab for a few final facts before moving on to a new fascination.”
As we finished up the last slices of the pizza, I slumped beside him. “This is helping.”
Arlo and I spent the next day together and filled it with light, leisurely fun. We laughed over spaghetti and meatballs for dinner, and then the thoughts about Ethan roared back with a vengeance. I knew that he’d be back in Madison in a few hours, but I’d have to wait to see him.
Arlo looked at me with understanding eyes.
“You know what you need?” he asked gently.
I shook my head, still lost in thought.
“Another little adventure,” he grinned mischievously. “Come on.”
Before I could protest, Arlo grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the door.
“Where are we going?” I asked hesitantly.
“You’ll see.”
“Ice skating? Seriously? It’s been years.” I balked as we approached the gate to the public skating plaza at a nearby park. I’d walked several blocks down my street with Arlo until I realized what he had in mind.
“Precisely!” he asserted, his eyes dancing with anticipation.
“Considering your relationship with the hockey virtuoso, it’s only a matter of time before he’ll have you lacing up again. You need to be ready for that precious moment, my friend. Plus, the physical activity is guaranteed to siphon off some of your restless energy. It will stop you from climbing the walls. You’re welcome.”
“Fine, fine,” I relented, and we stepped through the gate to approach the skate rental counter.
The park was a pristine tableau of winter, powdered with a thick blanket of snow. At its heart was a small frozen lake, its surface shimmering like a crystal mirror after the latest passes of the Zamboni. Cheerful laughter filled the air, punctuated by the rhythmic sound of skates carving paths on the ice.
I sat on a bench next to Arlo and began lacing up the skates. My fingers trembled slightly. I didn’t want to face plant on the ice.
“Been a minute, hasn’t it?” he nudged me with a mischievous grin on his face.
“Quiet, you,” I grumbled, taking tentative steps onto the ice.
My first few strides were hesitant, and I clung to the railing as if it were my lifeline. Gradually, though, the rhythm returned, and each glide was more confident than the last. Ever the showman, Arlo was in his element, slicing through the crowd with effortless grace, even managing a spin or two.
“Such an exhibitionist!” I called out.
“Can’t help it, Ryan! Johnny Weir has nothing on me,” Arlo skated backward with a chuckle to prove his point. “You’re holding up well. It looks like you were born with those skates on your feet.”
Feeling a sudden pang of longing, I pulled out my phone, took a photo of the bustling lake, and sent it to Ethan with a message. “Wish you were here.”
“Who’s the lucky recipient?” Arlo teased as he raised an eyebrow.
“None of your concern,” I growled, trying to veil my blush, but it was impossible to ignore the gaping hole Ethan’s absence left in my heart.
Arlo, ever perceptive, noticed the change in my demeanor. “Hey, don’t let the ice god’s absence ruin your night,” he said. “Let’s focus on enjoying ourselves.”
I nodded, grateful for his presence. Together, we glided around the lake as the night sky enveloped us. The darkness brought a certain intimacy to the experience, making it feel like it was just the two of us on the frozen lake.
About thirty minutes later, an excited shout from Arlo cut through the air. “Hey, Ryan! Look who just showed up.” He gestured toward a bench at the lake’s edge. My heart somersaulted in my chest.
It was Ethan, lacing up a pair of skates. Apparently, he’d had an unexpected early return from the road trip. A tingling sensation raced from my head to my toes. He glided over to join us as we skated.
“Well, hello there,” Ethan greeted us warmly. “Thought I’d drop by for a surprise.”
“It’s—uh—unexpected,” I managed to stutter. “Ethan—meet Arlo, my bestie.”
Arlo bowed, and we all laughed.
Ethan was poetry on ice, effortlessly commanding the attention of everyone around him. He strung together brief spins with a few perfect toe-loop jumps. When he paused, many of our fellow skaters applauded.
“Come on, Ryan,” Arlo encouraged, his eyes twinkling. “Join him. Show off your skills.”
“You think?” I hesitated.
“Go for it,” he insisted. He gave me a gentle push on my hips. “Enjoy this moment—it will never come again.”
With a deep breath, I skated toward Ethan, silently praying that I wouldn’t embarrass both of us.
My nerves were on edge as I skated toward him at the heart of the ice rink. “Quite the surprise running into you here,” I said, working to steady my voice.
“The bus was just pulling in as I got your text. I missed you.”
“Missed you, too.”
We skated side by side, and soon our rhythm synched up like we’d been skating together for years. Each twirl and glide felt effortless. The world beyond the icy lake faded away. Ethan and my skates were my only reality.
Arlo good-naturedly intruded for a moment. “I’m going to give you two some space,” he announced, his voice a distant echo as he skated away.
I called out to him as a wave of gratitude surged inside me. I squeezed him tightly in a hug before he left. He reached out, ruffled my wavy brown hair, and whispered, “He’s yours—enjoy every moment, Monsieur.”
“Ready for a little grand finale?” Ethan’s voice cut through the crisp air, mischief glimmering in his eyes.
“Let’s do it,” I responded, adrenaline coursing through my veins.
Side by side, we accelerated, and the wind whistled past our ears as we propelled ourselves toward our final spins. We executed them in perfect synch. The surrounding skaters erupted in a symphony of applause, their cheers echoing across the park.
“Wow, that was amazing!” I gasped.
“Absolutely,” Ethan said. “You’re an incredible skater, Ryan.”
“Only when I have an amazing partner.” I reached out for a quick hug.
It was late when we decided it was time to trade our skates in for our boots. Ethan offered to drive me home. Nestled in the comfort of his car, I enjoyed the heat blasting from the vents. It provided a welcome respite from the wintry chill.
Ethan parked the car outside my apartment building, and in an instant, our lips collided in a passionate kiss. The windows fogged up, and we surrendered ourselves to the intoxication of the heated moment. My breath mingled with Ethan’s, and I feverishly rubbed his neck and chest while he sucked on my tongue.
“Come inside?” I murmured hopefully, my voice laced with desire.
“God, I want to,” Ethan exhaled, desire heavy in his eyes. “But I’m so exhausted from the trip, and we have practice tomorrow.” He paused, offering me a tender smile. “Soon, though. I promise.”
“Alright,” I responded, attempting to mask my disappointment. “I understand.”
“Goodnight, Ryan,” he whispered, pulling me close for one final, lingering kiss before I stepped out into the crisp embrace of the night air.
“Goodnight, Ethan,” I whispered in return, my eyes glued on his car until he vanished into the distance. It didn’t take long to kick my disappointment to the curb. It had been an evening of wonder and joy. A mixture of delight and anticipation swirled inside me as I turned toward my apartment building.
Leaning back against the door, I looked around my apartment, suddenly seeing it with fresh eyes. The low hum of the refrigerator filled the silence, creating a soothing soundtrack for my reflective thoughts. The living room, bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the window, looked cozier than ever. It was as if the universe was telling me everything was as it should be.
I moved to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of wine to unwind. There was a slight hitch in my step, reminding me that I’d possibly been slightly more vigorous than necessary with one of my spins on the ice. I sipped the wine and enjoyed the satisfying warmth that spread through my body.
As I moved around my apartment, tidying up from Arlo’s visit, happiness bubbled up inside me. Despite missing Ethan’s presence, I felt content. His impromptu visit to the ice rink was a loving gesture that warmed my heart.
Even as I prepared for bed, the smile on my face refused to fade. I climbed between the sheets and let out a contented sigh. As I closed my eyes, I could still feel the chill of the ice rink, the exhilaration of our synchronized spin, and the sweetness of Ethan’s kiss.
The next morning, I woke to my phone buzzing insistently on the bedside table. My heart leaped as I saw my boyfriend’s name lighting up on the screen.
“Hey, you,” I greeted, trying to keep the sleep out of my voice.
“Good morning,” Ethan responded, his voice as warm as a fresh cup of coffee. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
