Page 50 of The Price of Ice

It was absurd, Coach had been warned they wouldn’t go to practice, and they were contractually entitled to it on occasion. Kallen couldn’t even say he minded that Levy had made the decision for him—when you came home in a daze and needed someone else to supervise your shower, it was fair enough if they made a couple choices for you as a follow up.

It wasn’t until they walked into the empty changing room, and he stopped on his tracks that the pieces clicked together. Levy walked into his back, curling his arm around Kallen’s middle to keep them both from stumbling.

“You okay?” He sounded confused.

And he was going to remain so, because Kallen was going to look away from the spot where he’d sat down the previous day. He was going to walk across the room and yank off his shirt and get on with changing.

Levy spoke to him a couple more times, but seemed to give up when he got no response.

Kallen would have liked to be able to joke around or even grunt, but his teeth were clenched too hard for either.

Once he was in uniform, he grabbed his skates and walked out into the corridor to put them on.

He knew it was suspicious as hell. Of course he bloody knew, but he was giving it his fuckingall, and Levy...

Levy followed him out and filled the silence between them as they made their way to the ice.

The ice helped a little, because it was his home, where he belonged, and sliding forward was somewhat easier than walking but at the same time immediately demanded more of his attention. And if he raised his eyes to scan the empty bleachers and sidelines, it wasn’t a big deal. He could have easily skated with his eyes closed anyway, with only Levy with him, slightly behind and to the left, keeping up but not crowding him.

He didn’t even notice Levy had gone out until he came back with sticks and pucks and challenged him to a game of keep-away. A bit basic, and even somewhat childish, but a good exercise, nonetheless.

They jostled over the puck, twisting and faking and by the time he broke away with it, Kallen was crowing at his success like this was a real game. And itwasreal, the air was fresh and cold,his blood was pumping and he’d got the puck away from Levy, even if the net he was flying towards was empty. Levy caught up with him, bumping him hard and Kallen went with it, swerving right without losing possession and shooting even though he was a bit too far still.

It went in, hitting a corner but most definitely in. He turned around and Levy was already on him, hugging him close, as excited about it as if he’d given him the assist instead of tried to stop him.

It was all ridiculous, but Kallen was still smiling hard when he suggested they switch over to practising passing and Levy refused, claiming he wanted a rematch.

THE AFTERNOON WENTby way too fast. He was exhausted and sweating and the idea of going into the changing room was making him want to throw up. It felt like all the hard work they’d done to get him somewhere better would be undone with a single step.

“Let’s just go home.” He looked up, and Levy had stopped him with a hand on his forearm. His face had gone serious and worried now that they were off ice, like he’d caught Kallen’s mood, and that only made him feel worse. “Please,” he added. “I’ll get our things. We’ll shower at home.”

Kallen looked down, throat tight. Of course Levy knew something was wrong, and he wasn’t asking, but he was doing his very best to protect Kallen anyway. Only tomorrow he was meant to come back here and do his job. What was he supposed to do? Get changed at home like a lunatic for the rest of the season?

The fingers on his arm tightened. “It’s okay to take it easy for one day,” his friend whispered. “It doesn’t mean... If you need a bit of time, that’s okay.”

Kallen had taken the easy way out and let him grab their things. They’d both changed off their skates in the corridor like lunatics together.

So the next morning, he had no one but himself to blame.

Chapter 20

He’d gone to sleep with Levy again, though at least he’d been able to shower on his own this time, which he’d convinced himself meant that he’d done the right thing going home instead of forcing himself into the changing room once again.

At first, he hadn’t realised anything was wrong, he’d woken on his back, with one of Levy’s arms across his middle. They hadn’t so much as kissed since before Kallen’s heat, but his friend seemed confident enough to curl up close at least.

Maybe it would be for the best if they went back to being friends without any benefits. If Kallen didn’t try to have more than he could handle.

It was that thought that had him twist to the side to get up. Or try to, because he flopped back down, hip twinging. He glanced down instinctively, and then scrambled to sit up and ended up having to put down a hand behind his own back to keep from overbalancing.

Because his legs weren’t reacting. He could feel them, but when he tried to bend them nothing happened.

“Kallen?” Levy’s curls were frizzy and ridiculous atop his head and Kallen barely gulped down his terror. It didn’t matter, his friend was already sitting up, reaching for his back to support him. “What— What is it?”

He shook his head, blinking hard against the tears. He didn’t know, but it was bad. That’s all he was sure about, that it was really bad, and he couldn’t—

“Hey,” Levy’s hand was on his face, thumb slowly caressing his stubbled cheek. “I’m here,” he promised. “Did you have a nightmare?”

And Kallen snorted out a laugh, braying and desperate, and then, close to sick with terror, he tried clench his toes. He watched them this time, just in case... But nothing happened. There they were, perfectly ordinary poking from under the blankets.

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