Page 41 of Behind the Bench

Before I can think better of it, I’m reaching over to her. I gently grip her chin and lift her head until her gaze meets mine. “Hey.”

Her icy blue eyes stare back at me and steal the air from my lungs.

Ellie Montgomery isgorgeous.

Neither of us say a word as we hold each other's gazes. My eyes move down to her lips for the briefest moment, and that’s when I notice the corner of her lips tip up the slightest bit. She darts her tongue out to lick her bottom lip, and I quickly move my eyes back up to hers.

Does she want to kiss me as bad as I want to kiss her?

I can feel both of us begin itching closer to each other.

Closer.

And closer.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

There’s a pounding on the door. Ellie and I jump apart so fast you’d think we were electrocuted. Ellie hops out of her chair and moves across the room.

“Yo, Lincoln. Ellie. You about ready to get out of here? Maintenance is waiting to get into the room to clean it for the night.”

Hunter.

He either just interrupted something completely amazing, or saved us from making a huge mistake.

I look over at Ellie and she’s at her locker, fixing her face in the mirror. Not sure exactly what needs fixing because it looks pretty perfect to me.

“You good to go, Ellie? I can tell them you need another minute.”

She turns to look at me. There’s still a bit of sadness in her eyes. I’d give anything to be able to help her smile after this night. “I’m good, Lincoln. Let’s get out of here.”

I nod and motion for her to go first. She starts to make her way to the door but pauses next to me. She places her hand on my arm and looks up at me. “Thanks for…whatever that was, Lincoln. I lost my head there for a minute and you brought me back down. Just…thanks.”

I swallow the lump in my throat and try to form words. “Uh…yeah…yep. No problem.”

Ellie gives my arm a quick squeeze and exits the room.

My feet seem to be cemented in place because I don’t move. I can’t. I look around the room, playing back the events of the last…hour? How long were we in here?

I’m lost in my thoughts, trying to make sense of everything when Hunter peeks his head in. “Lincoln, you good? What the hell happened?”

I shake my head and finally get my feet to work. I pull my leather work bag that holds my computer over my shoulder and make my way to the door.

“I have no idea, Hunter. I have no fucking idea.”

It’s been two weeks since the disastrous postgame press conference where I lost my cool in front of Lincoln. It’s ironic, really. First, I find him at his lowest point having a panic attack on the ice. Then, he witnesses me losing control of my emotions. These days it usually takes a lot for my emotions to take control of me like they did that night. Waking up that morning to read that article, then losing and having to deal with Roger Park postgame just ignited a cannon inside of me. My insecurity, fear, self-consciousness, and doubt all manifested and amplified in the face of that reporter. But what’s even more shocking? The sense of calm I felt being in Lincoln’s arms.

And then there was the almost kiss.

I mean, I think we were going to kiss. Unless I made it all up in my head—which is definitely a possibility.

As soon as I left the coaches’ room that night, I sprinted to my car and drove home as fast as I could without breaking the law. Sadie was waiting for me with a glass of red wine—bless her heart—and I told her all about the press conference. And what I mean by that is that I told her everything thathappened during the press conferences but none of what happened after.

I’m still trying to figure out what happened there myself. I don’t know what I made up in my mind and what was real. What I do know though, is that Lincoln was there, and without him I may have destroyed that entire room.

One simple touch from him and I was able to find my inner calm.

How freaking annoying is that?

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