Page 8 of Broken Ice, Mended Hearts

I wondered if he remembered anything about our fight. The moments on the ice had scorched a vivid memory in my mind. I dissected them like a surgeon, searching for hidden meanings and decoding every grunt and grimace. We were just doing our jobs, right? Him, goal prevention; me, teammate protection. Yet, somewhere between “fuck you” and “break it up, guys,” the anger fizzled like a sparkler in a rain puddle.

Then came the moment that still had me on edge. With our eyes locked and bodies tangled, the ice suddenly felt more like a fine mattress, tempting me to stay sprawled on top of him forever. It was madness, and my inner voice—usually a snarky cheerleader—went silent. All I knew was the scent of his sweat, the warmth of his breath across my face, and the insane urge to lean over and kiss him, national TV be damned.

Maybe I’d inhaled too many Zamboni fumes, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that our on-ice tango was more than just a hockey scuffle. It had been… intriguing. Confusing. And undoubtedly the hottest fight I’d ever had.

Desperate to stop fixating on Holmer, I got out of the pool and found my phone on a nearby chaise. I tapped on his contactand brought up the messaging app, then typed in the most nonchalant line I could think of: “Hey, remember that game when we didn’t trip over each other… much?”

Wondering if his response would make my hamster wheel spin faster or bring it to a stop, I hesitated before clicking Send. We’d agreed to get in touch this weekend, and texting out of the blue might seem weird. At the last minute, I erased the message and tossed my phone back onto the chaise.Fuck me.

Shaking my head, I plunged back into the pool and remained underwater until my lungs screamed for air. When I surfaced, the oxygen deprivation had done nothing to dislodge Sven from my head. Now, a new memory joined the others—the way he’d stared at me when we were at Alex’s. It hadn’t been an interested look or two, but numerous penetrating gazes that, in my imagination, were brimming with everything from longing to lust. I’d ogled him too, and before the evening was over, we were locking eyes across the room.

Shit, what’s wrong with me? I don’t know when I’ve been like this. Even when I was falling in love with Ella, I could think about other things.

While I struggled to understand what was going on, another complication entered the arena: Sven was gay, so why would he be interested in me? My escapades with women had attracted a lot of notoriety over the years, so he must have known I was straight.Yes, I questioned once, but I am straight. Right?I hoped to find another wife, and in my dreams, we had kids and lived happily ever after. But since I wasn’t even ready to act on that yet, why was I obsessing over a man? Even if I were gay, I’d have nothing to offer but a broken heart and bitter outlook on the world.

As much as I’d have liked to deny it, the air between Sven and me had been charged with sexual tension when we walked back to his New York hotel. His cologne, something I used towear, smelled a hundred times better on him than it ever had on me. We stole glances at each other, but no matter how hard I tried to find something to say, I couldn’t. I was too busy thinking about his mesmerizing blue eyes and wondering about the toned muscles hiding beneath his shirt.

Easy, boy. You’re straight, remember?

Fuck it. Any guy who claims he’s never checked out another man in the locker room is a liar.

When Sven and I reached his hotel and exchanged phone numbers, it seemed like he was about to invite me inside. He even nodded his head toward the door, but then stuttered and stopped trying to talk. I was on pins and needles wondering if he would ask—and if he did, what I’d say.

Shit and fuck it! I’ll admit it this one time and then never, ever think about it again. When he looked at me like he wanted to lay me out on his bed and lick me all over, I knew I’d say yes if he asked.

I shook my head and climbed out of the pool again, grabbing a towel I’d slung over a chair and rubbing myself down so hard my skin tingled. It was time to go shower those thoughts away. Then I’d go out and find a one-night stand—a woman, to be clear—something I’d never had trouble doing. A night of hot, meaningless sex would certainly get my mind off Sven’s eyes.

Before I met Ella, I once enjoyed a walk on the wild side with a guy named Danny when the Barracudas played in Montreal. Other than that, my sexual experiences were exclusively with women. They had ignited my desires and made me dream of a future beyond hookups. Sure, I could go for a guy like Sven, but “could” was a world away from “should.” He was new in town, and who knew what his relationship status was. What Sven and I both needed was a friend, not another thing to regret.

In the shower, I turned the water to cold and tried to wash away thoughts of him, but his image lingered in my mind. Hismuscles came to mind again; the way they had strained against his clothes was obscene. “God,” I mumbled, sliding my hand down my abs until I found my cock. I’d stroke one out thinking about Sven, then go find a woman.

After my shower, I made dinner and took care of some undone chores around the house. It was dark outside by the time I finished, and the prospect of going out held no appeal. Trapped between my continued resentment of Ella and conflicted feelings about Sven, I was caught in a no-man’s-land. Living a monastic life might be best for now. Someday, when I got myself together, I could consider dating.

Sven was due back in DC tomorrow, and though I’d promised to text him, that might not be the best course of action. Meeting up with friends seemed like a better idea. Unfortunately, Nick and Jacob were in Scotland, and Kev and Tyler were leaving for France the next morning. After giving the matter some thought, I found my phone and thumbed in a text to another teammate, Blake Conti.

GAGS: Hey, what are you and Sako doing tomorrow? I’m living like a hermit, so seeing the light of day would be good for me. Want to work out and grab some food after?

No reply came, so I made popcorn. When I brought a bowl back to my recliner, a message was waiting on the phone screen.

BLAKE: Sorry to hear you’re hibernating. We’re always down for hanging out, but right now we’re in Maine. Left yesterday but we’ll be back next week. Raincheck?

Shit, all my friends had left town exactly when I needed a distraction.

GAGS: NP. Have fun and let me know when you get back. Send me some lobster.

BLAKE: In your dreams. Haul your ass up here and get it yourself.

I set my phone on the table and picked up the TV remote. It was binge-watching time, and I had just started the second episode when my message tone buzzed. Without looking, I paused the show and reached for my phone. Sven’s name was on the screen, and I froze, scowling like it might bite me.

SVEN: What’s up Gagné? You survive the week?

It took a minute for my brain to turn over so I could type a response.

GAGS: I guess. It’s hotter than hell here, so be prepared.

SVEN: It’s fucking hot here too.

With a chokehold on the phone, I wondered if I needed to reply right away. No law said you couldn’t get distracted by something and leave a text unanswered for a while. While I considered that, my dick rose to the occasion.Goddammit.The Wizard of Temptation was apparently in my head to stay for a while.

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