Page 51 of Icing on the Cake

As I sidestep another puddle, I run into a solid wall of muscle and nearly fall flat on my ass again. This time, my glasses fly off my face, but a large hand catches them before they hit the ground.

“Oh, crap! Are you okay?” a familiar voice asks.

I look up and find myself staring into the bluest eyes.Because of course. Why wouldn’t I walk into Gerard Gunnarson?

His blond hair, darkened by the rain, is plastered to his forehead, and his shirt clings to his muscular chest.

“I’m fine.” I gesture for my glasses, and he holds them out delicately. I half expect them to have been crushed in hismassive paw, but they remain intact. I put them on in time to see him flash a disarming grin that makes even aliens weak in the knees.

“Sorry for running into you.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I was distracted.”

“By what? The weather?” The sarcasm slips out before I can stop it.

“Yeah,” he laughs. “Crazy, right? One day, it can be sunny as can be; the next, it’s a monsoon of epic proportions! Pretty soon, we’re gonna need to build an ark and gather up all the animals.”

How is this guy always cheerful?

“What are you doing out here?” He checks the time on his phone. “Shouldn’t you be at the library?”

I’m surprised he remembers that detail about me. After the meet and greet in the locker room, I figured he’d go back to not knowing who I was. Yes, he said he hoped to see me around campus again, but he was being polite…right? It’s what anyone would say. “I’m running an errand.”

Gerard suddenly notices the pink umbrella in my hand and raises an eyebrow. “Oh! Cool umbrella!”

“It’s not mine.”

He chuckles, clearly not believing me despite the fact I’m holding a black umbrella over my head.

I go to step around him, but he stops me with a hand on my shoulder. I fight the urge not to shudder.

“I’m glad we ran into each other.” Gerard’s hand is warm and heavy on my shoulder, and the heat radiates through my drenched jacket. “Did you enjoy your behind-the-scenes peek of Infinity Arena?”

I consider my words carefully. “It was…interesting.”

Gerard nods. “I’m glad you came—to the game. It meant a lot to me.”

I blink, surprised by his sincerity and the fact that he doesn’t notice or care that he’s getting more and more soaked by standing here talking to me. “You’re getting drenched.”

Gerard glances down at his wet body and shrugs. “A little rain never hurt anyone.”

I shake my head in disbelief. How is he this carefree? “You’re going to catch a cold.”

“Nah, I’m invincible.” He flexes his bicep, making the muscles in his upper body ripple. “Hockey players don’t get sick.”

“Must be nice.” A hint of wistfulness creeps into my voice.

Gerard tilts his head, curious. “What do you mean?”

I bite my lip as I struggle to voice my thoughts. How do I explain to him the constant anxiety that hums beneath my skin? The fear of saying or doing the wrong thing? How do I make him understand the weight of expectations that press down on me?

“Being so…untroubled. You never care what people think or if you’re doing the right thing. You have this unflinching confidence that everything will be okay.”

Gerard’s expression softens, and his usual bravado slips away. “It’s not always as easy as it looks. I’ve had to work hard to build up my confidence over the years.”

“Really?” I can’t hide the surprise in my voice. “But you’re always so sure of yourself.”

Gerard chuckles, but there’s a hint of self-deprecation in it. “Trust me, I have plenty of moments of doubt. I’m not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed, you know?”

I raise an eyebrow. “Really?”

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