Page 5 of Icebreaker

He clutched his heart. "You would eat your best friend? Shocked, I tell you! After I worked all day to create such a hot and delicious pizza."

I tilted my head to the right. "How long ago did you order it? Twenty minutes?"

"Okay, okay, but I did work on this."He pulled the beanie off his head and handed it to me. "Entirely hand knitted with these hands…for you."

In college, Moose fell in love with a girl who taught him how to knit. She later cheated on him, and it nearly broke his heart. She was his last woman before he turned to guys, but he stuck with the knitting. "The needles and yarn are always there for me, day in and day out, Quinn,"he insisted. "Think about it."

I stared at the beanie. "The type is a little uneven, but nobody else will have one like this. I'm touched."

Moose chuckled. "I'll have you know this is a one-of-a-kind custom-designed Lumberjacks beanie. I figure the uneven letters are sort of a metaphor for the winding road to hockey stardom. Or something like that."

I laughed, and warm, fuzzy sensations took over. He didn't know much about hockey beyond sliding the rods back and forth on a table, but he'd been my biggest cheerleader since we first met. He believed in me even when I questioned myself.

"I love the beanie,"I declared, bumping our shoulders together. "It might make me look like a slightly deranged elf, but you made it, and that means the world to me."

We both tore into the pizza like starving hyenas. Our rumbling stomachs demanded we down at least three slices before conversing. Then, we would have time for questions.

Moose leaned back and waggled his eyebrows while graciously offering me the last pizza slice. "So, tell me about your first day hacking away as a Lumberjack. Did you play nice? Did you makeany new friends? Score any goals? Was it as much like the first day of school as I imagined?"

I laughed and nearly choked on an errant hunk of pepperoni. "It was good."Best to start off deliberately vague. "The guys seem nice, and I got a good workout. Not too exciting, but it was just the first day."

Moose squinted at me. "Nothing too exciting, huh? Then why do you look like a little kid who found out Santa is real and is bringing a passel of puppies for Christmas?"

I lowered my head while a fierce blush spread across my cheeks. Moose knew me too well. He could read me like an open book. "Yeah, nothing…I mean…"I finished the pizza and pulled at a loose thread on my sweats. "I guess I did feel one thing, though."

Moose's manic grin softened into a gentle smile. "I should think so. Hopefully, you felt more than one thing. You've been dreaming about this moment for most of your life. It's okay to be excited about it. I'd be screaming my fool head off."

I nodded, swallowing around the lump starting to form in my throat. Moose was right about my excitement, and I did demonstrate that at the rink, but I was hesitant to say more—worried that the rest of the story would tumble out.

He tilted his head to the right. "It's not like you to be quiet. Where's brash Quinn O'Reilly? Did he leave the room?"

"Well, I guess there was something,"I blurted out. All Moose had to do was look at me a certain way, and all my secrets tumbled into the open. "I guess it might be someoneinstead of somethingelse."

Suddenly, one of Moose's eyebrows arched nearly up to his hairline. "Oh, do tell."He leaned forward with his chin propped on his hands, exaggerating his interest in my day. "Was he a cute singer with dimples? Or maybe a goalie with…well, you've told me about what kind of ass they have."

I smacked him with a throw pillow from the couch. "No, doofus,"my cheeks flared beet red. "It's…uh, fuck… can't believe I'm saying this."

"No turning back now."

I sighed heavily. "Axel Karlsson."

Moose blinked, and his mouth fell open in surprise. "Axel Karlsson? That guy you told me about? We watched him growling like a feral beast in a press conference. I thought he would eat those reporters for a late-night snack."

I nodded and buried my face in my hands. "Yeah, that guy. I think…well, I guess I know… I've got a crush on him."

A moment of silence passed between us before Moose spoke again. "Damn, Quinn. You don't do anything halfway, do you?"

I chuckled, and then my voice came out in a strangled squeak. "I guess not."I stared at Moose, hoping he'd throw me a lifeline to pull me out of my predicament. "What can I do? I can't have feelings like that for a fellow player…for one who's almost fifteen years older than me. Even if he felt the same, it's a recipe for disaster."

He scooted closer and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "Hey, it's okay."He ruffled my hair with his hand. "So, you've got this crush on an older guy. Happens every day, doesn't it? At least this guy's on the same team as you. I was never so sure about the mad Russian."

I pressed my face into my hands again. Leave it to Moose to have brought that up. I'd fallen for Dr. Mikhail Rozhin, the professor who taught my favorite class in college, a senior seminar on Russian literature.

"I'd hoped you forgot about that. Not one of my shining moments."

"Aw, c'mon, man. It's okay, but seriously, how could I forget about your longing to spend an all-nighter discussingIvan Denisovichwith the guy? That's a serious commitment."

I looked up at Moose and shook my head. "And what about you and Dr. Daniels?"

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