Page 17 of Icing the Cougar
"I'm not sure I can," I say, but my eyes are glued to him. He's reckless and determined and a thousand other things that make me wonder if I can really handle it. The way he's moving, it's almost like he's dancing. I'm hypnotized by the rhythm of it all.
His focus is electric. He's there one second and gone the next, making plays and throwing himself into the fray with no regard for what it might do to him. Watching from so close, I can see every muscle flex under his jersey. The sight sends a thrill through me, followed by a ripple of anxiety. I don't know how this is supposed to end.
Nova nudges me again. "This is the part where you tell me I'm right."
I laugh and take another swig. The can is cold in my hand, and the taste lingers. "So far," I admit.
A guy sitting a few rows back leans over. "You here for Jazz?" he asks. His words blend with the crowd noise and almost disappear.
Nova's quicker than me. "Yep, she is," she confirms. The guy just winks like he knows everything we’ve done together, even though I know that’s impossible.
It's easy to forget how public this is when I'm focused on Jasper. Easy to lose myself in the chaos and let it swallow my nerves. Maybe this is what he wants, to see me struggle with his world and wonder what I’ve gotten myself into.
"You like it rough, Trin?" Nova says as Jasper slams an opponent into the boards right in front of us. The thud is so loud it echoes inside my chest.
I take a moment too long to answer, distracted by the scene and by Nova's question. "What?"
"This hockey thing," she says, but her look tells me she means more.
"I'm here, aren't I?" I say, and it's as much a question as a statement. I keep watching as the action swirls around Jasper, thinking I might understand him better when I see him like this. Unrestrained and in control all at once.
I don’t realize I’ve been holding my breath until Nova taps my shoulder and brings me back to where I am, where we are. "God, you’ve got it bad," she says with a gleam in her eye.
I don’t deny it. I don’t think I can.
Jasper's intensity is something else entirely. It grips me in a way that's both exhilarating and terrifying.
"Do you think he’s always this brutal?" I ask Nova. She shrugs, sipping her wine.
The game moves fast, too fast for me to keep up with who has the puck, but I know where Jasper is. Always.
"In more ways than one, I bet," Nova says, laughing at the look I give her.
"I'm serious," I say. "Is it supposed to be this... physical?"
Nova leans back, crossing her arms and watching Jasper like she's sizing him up for me. "It’s hockey. Duh. You didn’t expect him to be gentle, did you?"
I almost say no. Instead, I say, "I didn’t expect to be this worried."
"Don't be. It's hot," she says, finishing off another canned wine. "You want wine? Maybe popcorn?"
Before I can answer, Jasper's in the thick of it again. He dodges and cuts and collides with another player, and I feel the impact in my bones. It's not pretty, but it's effective.
He shoves the guy, hard enough to send him sprawling, and I wonder if he’s going to stop. If he can stop. He plays like this is all there is. Like there's nothing else he knows how to do, or wants to do.
Nova stands up and cheers with the rest of the crowd. She fits right in, but all I can think about is how I don't.
"Sit down, come on!" I tug her sleeve as whistles blow, and the ref calls a penalty on Jasper.
"Oh, damn," Nova says, finally dropping back into her seat. "Two minutes, huh?"
"For what?" I ask. Jasper is skating to the penalty box, and even from here I can see the fury in his eyes.
"Interference," Nova answers. "Or maybe roughing. Whatever. It's not a big deal." She’s calm, too calm, while I’m a knot of tension, wound tight by everything I've seen and not knowing what’s to come.
I should take it as a sign that I can't keep up. That this isn't where I belong.
Instead, I watch him in the box, counting down the seconds. He’s trapped.
