Page 65 of Stay
His expression turns serious. “I’ll be waiting.”
Unsure what else to say, I nod before scurrying to the locker room. Ten minutes later, I lace up my skates and am ready to go. It’s a bittersweet feeling to be outfitted in my own hockey gear. It’s been almost a year of not skating five to six days a week.
No drills.
No practices.
No dry-land work outs.
No games.
Nothing.
Before last year, my life had revolved around hockey to the exclusion of everything else.
And then it was gone.
I was left with vast stretches of time and nothing to fill it. No friends. I’d sacrificed all those to get to the next level of hockey. No boyfriend. There had never been time for that. No other hobbies, activities, or interests. There’d never been time to develop anything else. I may not have been an Olympian or professional athlete, but I trained like one.
I shake myself out of those thoughts and spot Cole standing where I’d left him. For just a moment, I allow my gaze to rove over him as he watches a team of twelve-and thirteen-year-olds skate up and down the ice while practicing a passing drill. The coach blows his whistle about every twenty seconds as a new set of kids take off down the sheet of ice.
A smile curves his lips as he watches them. With his attention focused elsewhere, I’m able to study him openly. From the navy beanie pulled low over his shaggy brown hair to his golden whiskey-colored eyes. There’s a light stubble that covers both his chin and cheeks. His lips are full, and his face is handsomely chiseled. There isn’t an ounce of boy there. Even though he’s only a sophomore in college, he’s all man. Something unexpected flutters in my belly as I silently acknowledge how gorgeous he is. His shoulders are impossibly broad. I love running my hands over them and down his muscular arms. They’re all sinewy muscle.
And he’s tall.
Solid.
My snap judgment about him when we’d met at that party couldn’t have been more off base. Even though he’s devastatingly handsome, he’s the last guy I would call a D-bag. He’s probably one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met.
And I’m ruining this. I can feel him pulling away.
The need to lighten the mood surges through me as I close the distance between us.
I point toward the ice. “Seems like a long time ago, doesn’t it?”
He glances over at me, and one side of his mouth slides up. “Sometimes it feels like yesterday, and other days like a lifetime ago.”
Understanding the sentiment, I nod in agreement. “Yeah, it does.”
His gaze slides over me with more interest as he grins and shakes his head. “You look hot, Cassidy.”
I roll my eyes as heat floods my cheeks. For one, I look massive with the shoulder pads and cushiony pants. Plus, my skates give me three inches of extra height. I probably look like a goon.
“Shut up.”
He chuckles before reaching for my hand. “Come on.”
I let him capture my fingers as we head toward the doors that lead to the lobby again.
“Where are we going now?” That’s when I realize he hasn’t changed out of his street clothes. “Wait a minute, you’re not skating?”
When I slow my pace, he tugs my hand and pulls me through the double doors. “No more questions, you’re late.”
Instead of releasing my fingers, he tows me across the crowded lobby, weaving between parents with their morning cups of coffee. We continue walking to the second sheet of ice before pushing through another set of doors. I stop short as my gaze lands on players racing up and down the ice.
These players are older.
And they’re girls.
