Page 42 of Icing on the Cake

Gerard takes his hand back. A brief flicker of something I can’t name flashes across his face before he smiles broadly. “Oh, good call.”

“Thanks again for letting us meet the team,” Jackson says as Gerard walks us out of the locker room. “And for the tour. It was awesome.”

“Yeah, thanks.” I try to sound enthusiastic, but my mind is a whirlpool of conflictingemotions.

Gerard leans against the door frame. “Anytime. I’m glad you guys snuck in here.” His blue eyes lock onto mine. “Elliot, I hope to see you around campus more.”

My heart does a stupid little somersault. “Uh, yeah. Maybe.”

With that, Gerard pushes off the door frame and saunters back into the locker room.

“Gerard, wait!” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

He pops his head back out, one eyebrow raised quizzically. “What’s up?”

I chew on my bottom lip, second-guessing myself. But the concern won’t let me go. “Are you okay? That slam into the boards looked pretty intense.”

Gerard’s eyes widen a fraction before he schools his features into an easy smile. “Oh, that? I’m fine. Just a little knock to the noggin. Nothing I can’t handle.”

But I saw the way he stopped breathing for a split second after the impact like the wind was knocked out of him. “Are you sure? It looked like you might have a concussion.”

Gerard waves a dismissive hand. “I’m good. I’ve taken worse hits than that and walked away just fine.” He taps the side of his head. “Built like a brick wall up here.”

Despite myself, I snort. “I don’t think that’s the saying.”

“Well, it should be. Because it’s true.” He grins, and my stomach does that stupid fluttery thing again.

I don’t know why I’m so concerned. It’s not like Gerard and I are friends. We barely know each other. But there’s just something about him that makes me want to wrap him up in bubble wrap and keep him safe.

Which is ridiculous. He’s a grown man. A collegiate athlete. He can take care of himself.

But still, the image of him slamming into the boards replays in my mind. The way he crumpled to the ice.

Itshouldhorrify me. But instead, it sends a thrill down my spine.

There’s just something so…primal about hockey. The raw physicality of it. The barely contained violence simmering just beneath the surface, ready to explode at any moment.

It’s caveman stuff. And it shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does.

“Well, I’m glad you’re okay, regardless.”

“Thanks, Elliot. I appreciate that.” Gerard’s teammates call out to him, and he glances over his shoulder. “Have a good night, Elliot.”

“You too, Gerard.”

The door swings shut behind him, and I’m left staring at the spot where he stood, at a loss for words.

Jackson turns to me with a huge grin plastered on his face. “Dude.”

I blink at him, still processing everything that just happened. “What?”

“He has a thing for you.”

I scoff, but it comes out weaker than I intend. “You’re delusional.”

“I’m serious! Did you see the way he was looking at you? Oh, and what about how he pointedly said he hopes to see you around campus? Come on, Elliot. Evenyoucan’t be that dense.”

I run a hand through my hair and muss it up worse than Gerard did. “He was being nice. He’s probably that way with everyone.”

---