My mouth goes dry. Seeing him in person again reminds me of how gorgeous he is, how my body craves his features.
“Jack,” I say, my body tingling at the sound of his name on my tongue.
“Of all the ice rinks…” There’s a menacing calm to him that makes me believe that any intention he had of wrapping up his team’s practice is long gone now that he sees me. He skates to the center of the rink.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“We have to practice,” he says. “First game of the season is coming up.”
“For the rec league?”
He nods, completely unfazed at seeing me. He hasn’t flinched once, whereas I feel stark naked despite wearing an ungodly amount of gear.
“You’re playing in the league? But it’s for amateurs only. Not for professional hockey players.” I skate closer and catch a glorious whiff of him, sending me back to that rooftop.
“I’m not currently in the NHL. So according to the league’s rulebook…I’m a Blade.” He high-fives his teammates.
“This is an extracurricular league. Guys play for fun.”
“Really? Because you seem like a guy who isn’t capable of fun. You seem like a guy who might seem like he’s up for fun, but then activelypushesfun away.” Jack shrugs his shoulders, a coldness permeating his fake smile.
Fuck. This is a non-checking league, but Jack’s going to shove the shit out of me the first chance he gets.
“If any of you dinosaurs have an issue with my playing, you can take it up with the league,” Jack hollers over to my teammates.
“Dinosaurs?” Des cries out. “We’re not even fifty!”
“Well, good for you,” Jack shoots back. “We can’t be held responsible for any broken hips on the ice. And nice jerseys. Very homey.” He looks back at his teammates, who chuckle at the joke. “Anyway, this is our ice. We have it booked.”
“No. We have it booked,” I growl. I skate up to his face. I still got about two inches on him.
“Actually, we have it booked.” Jack skates to the players’ bench where his phone rests. He pulls up an app noting the time blocked off.
“The rink has an app?” I teepee my eyebrows together as I study his phone screen. I turn back to Bill for backup. He skates forward.
“I made the reservation on the website. Maybe their systems aren’t synched,” Bill says.
“Well, cry into your flip phones. We have this rink, and we gotta practice.” One of Jack’s teammates fishes out the puck and brings it over to him.
“Look, we were probably double-booked. It happens,” Bill says, trying to keep the peace. Jack just keeps glaring at me. “You guys got some practice in. We need to get some practice in. We’ll each have an abbreviated practice today, and we’ll get it squared away for the future.”
I look to Jack and give him a nod. It can’t get any more fair than that.
Jack doesn’t blink. “Nope. We were here first. You can hang out on the bleachers until we’re done.”
“You fucking serious?” Bill hisses. I block him from charging into Jack, which is like holding back a bull. It only makes Jack chuckle.
“Bill, I got this. Go back with the guys.” I give him a reassuring nod. Bill stares down Jack as he skates away backward.
I get closer to Jack so nobody else can hear us. “Look, I can explain about the other night. You don’t have to take it out on my teammates.”
Jack throws his head back and lets out a laugh as plastic as my helmet. “Griffin, that’s rich. Don’t worry. The other night meant absolutely nothing to me.”
He doesn’t blink when he says it. It’s a chainsaw ripping through my heart.
“I had a conversation about hockey with a guy who, it turns out, couldn’t get it up. I know that’s common with guys your age. Whatever.”
“What? Uh, no. No, no, no.” I might have no experience with guys, but I definitely wouldn’t have trouble in that department. With a mouth as acidic as his, I’m glad my dick got nowhere near it.