Page 28 of Hot Ice, Tennessee

“Get home safe,” I called after him.

And please don’t tell your brother how close I was to letting you fuck me.

4

JESSE

“Sanocki. Get your fucking head in the game.”

“I’vegotit,” I roared back, skating back over toward him.

My skates cut a line into the ice as I circled to a stop. Practice had been brutal all morning. I’d been running breakout drills with Robbie, my wing, for the better part of half an hour, and he’d noticed right away that my game was off today. Robbie was breaking the puck out like a goddamn champ and I was supposed to be helping out, putting as much pressure on him as I could and giving him a real challenge. Instead I was feeble and distracted, and he got away from me easily every time.

“Again,” Robbie barked at me.

“Fuck. Your scan is better than mine today, and you know it.”

“Usually you’re a beast,” he called back at me, giving me a wide shrug from across the ice as if to saywhat the fuck is with you, today?

I was anywhere but here, in reality.

Usually practices were my one place of Zen-like calm in the world—the smell of the ice alone was enough to put me into sheer focus, ready to think aboutnothingother than controlling the puck in front of me. Being surrounded by the TNU Talonsgreen and gold was enough to lock me in, and it felt like my true home.

This morning’s practice was the opposite.

I had to interact with Elliot earlier this morning. When we ran our scrimmage, he’d skated around half-heartedly, playing even worse than I was now. After Coach chewed him out, he’d checked me within minutes of us being out on the ice, pushing me up against the plexiglass for no goddamn reason. He’d given me a half-heartedsorryas he skated past, after pushing me off the ice like I was just collateral.

I’d ignored him. Even though I wanted the bottom of my skate to meet his shins.

Now I was ignoring the prick. I could still see him on the bench now, looking out at me as I ran drills with Robbie, and I didn’t fucking want him watching me at all.

I was also running on low sleep, because last night when I’d gotten back from Mason’s ranch, a couple of guys forced me to join in on a poker game in the living room. When I’d finally gone up to sleep at two in the morning, all I could think about was what I’d done with Mason. I’d jerked off in the shower to the thought of him last night—then made myself comeagain,just an hour later, before falling asleep.

Then this morning, I came to the thought of him for the third time, after waking up harder than hell, imagining the ragged desperation I’d heard in his voice last night.

I didnothave time to be daydreaming about Mason’s lips while I was on the ice.

Or his thighs.

Or his perfect fucking ass.

He was just some random guy you met in a bar. End of story.

“Again,” I yelled to Robbie, taking position.

“Ames, get in,” Coach yelled from the side, adding in another defender for the drill.

We hunted the puck and put as much pressure on Robbie as we could. I shoved my blade in, trying to steal it from his possession. But Robbie was on fire today. He got past us with ease, rushing past and clearing through.

“Good job,” Coach said to Robbie, then turned to me with a hard stare. “Sanocki, what’s the problem?”

“Won’t happen again,” I told him.

“Enough. Pack it up,” Coach said, waving us off and getting other guys on the ice.

I sighed, shoving off my helmet and cursing under my breath. Elliot was sitting at the bench near the exit and as I skated past, he gave me a look.

“Pretty bad out there, Jesse,” he said.

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