Page 72 of Broken Ice, Mended Hearts

Despite my reassuring words, dread coiled in my stomach. Jesus, if Eckie could threaten his husband like that, it would be even easier for Pip to turn away from me. All he and I had was a verbal agreement to be partners. Swallowing hard, I looked at Jack, then nodded at the bed. “Lie there, and I’ll sit here. You don’t need to be by yourself.”

Eckie was calmer when Jack called him back. He apologized for saying they should take a break, but he still wouldn’t promise not to quit hockey. Jack convinced him to think about it until they could discuss it in person.

I couldn’t stop the turmoil boiling inside me. The situation was getting out of hand, and I got stuck in a thought loop that scared me more every time it went around: if things were bad enough for Eckie to suggest taking a break from a man he adored, even if he didn’t mean it, none of us were safe. It was insane for one of the league’s most talented young players to consider quitting when he was only twenty-four years old.

Holy fucking hell. What does that say about the chances of Pip and me making a go of things?

There was no doubt that Pip and I needed to talk as soon as possible. We had to discuss where we stood and make sure we were still on the same page, so I tried to call him, only to have panic set in when I got voicemail. I hung up and sent a text.

SVEN: I need to talk to you right away. We’re leaving for the arena in about 30 min but please call.

I changed into my suit and was fixing the knot on my lucky tie when the phone buzzed.

PIP: Remember today was my checkup with the orthopedist? I’m in the exam room now waiting for him to come in. Is it an emergency?

Helvete!I was tempted to say yes, but things weren’t quite at the boiling point—at least not yet.

SVEN: No, but it’s very important. Will you be home after our game tonight?

PIP: Absolutely. I’ll be watching, so call as soon as you get to the hotel.

I played like shit, getting in one scuffle after another and spending more time in the sin bin than I ever remembered in one game. After the second period, Murray took me out of the rotation, so I sat on the bench, worried as hell about what to say to Pip later. We’d said we were partners, but what the fuck did that actually mean? With all the shit going on, all either of us had to say was, “Forget it,” and our relationship would be over.

Fuck, I felt like the top of my head might fly off when I remembered some of our recent exchanges. “You’ve completely changed my life,” I once said. “I’ve never come close to feeling this way about anyone.”

His reply? “You’re really special too, and I miss you.”

“My universe hasn’t been right,” I said another time when we’d missed a day talking. “It’s like a huge chunk of me is missing when you’re not there. It hurts.”

When he tilted his head, I’d been sure he was about to return the sentiment. Then he crushed me. “Same. A day without you takes forever to go by.”

As much as I tried not to admit it, I was in love with the asshole, and the best he could do was say the same words he’d use with a teammate. But what could I do? I was afraid if I so much as hinted at love, the idea would send him running away so fast I’d never see him again. We both struggled with emotional blocks, but I had no idea what was in his mind. Did he want to say more to me but couldn’t force himself, or was he saying exactly what he felt? I wished like hell I’d told him it was an emergency earlier because I now realized it fucking well was.

Jack was the only man on the team who played worse than I did. He was so distracted he ran into a goalpost once. Later, after an argument, he dropped the gloves with Beanie D-man Dave Kelly. Venting his frustrations, Jack beat the shit out of Kelly, and after the officials pried them apart, Kelly left the ice to be stitched up, and Jack was thrown out of the game. Seeing the fight made me feel worse because it brought back the fight Pip and I had back in March. It had helped to bring us together, and now I wondered if we were blowing up.

No thanks to me, the Congressmen eked out a 5–4 victory in overtime. That didn’t stop Murray from reaming us out afterward. He didn’t like how anyone had played, but Jack and I were the main targets of his frustration. After a long speech, he dedicated some special derision to us, winding up with, “I swear to God, if either of you pulls that kind of bullshit again, you’ll be lucky to play for the Lower Bumfuck Asswipes.”

Our teammates were obviously struggling not to laugh, which made it worse. With Murray’s threat ringing in my ears and fear of what might happen between Pip and me weighing on my heart, I was in terrible shape when we got back to the hotel.I grabbed my phone as soon as I pissed and changed out of my suit.

Pip answered right away, wearing an infuriating smirk. “What happened to you tonight? I’ve never seen you like that before.”

“Jag är så orolig.”

“What?”

“I’m worried out of my fucking mind.”

“About what?”

“How do you feel about me?”

He snickered. “After that game, maybe a little afraid. It’s a wonder they didn’t give you a game misconduct like they did Jack.”

“Men det va då fan!How do you fucking feel about me?”

The smirk fell off his face, and he rubbed his lips before answering. “You’re incredible.”

That’s it? That’s all he fucking has to say?“Okay, that sounds nice, buthow do you feel about me?”

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