Page 40 of Frozen Hearts
Grayson and Royce are sitting in the living room, and both give me expectant looks when I walk in, probably surprised to see me since I usually head out with the team after a game—win or lose.
“Well?” Gray questions with anticipation.
Smirking, I’m all swagger as I stalk across the room and drop onto the opposite end of the couch. “We won.”
He grins, smacking my chest. “Nice one, man.”
“Got a fucking hat trick,” I tell them.
“Seriously?” Gray gapes at me. “Fuck, that’s… wow. Congrats. You deserve it.”
Grinning, my gaze shifts to Royce. The morose bastard has been in a particularly delightful mood since we were called to pick his ass up after he beat the shit out of some dude at The Depot the other night. Andnotin the ring, where he’ssupposedto be delivering the punches. Asshole wouldn’t explain shit, except to say that he touched something he shouldn’t have—which we all know is a trigger for him, and Gray and I both have the good sense not to poke or prod atthosewounds.
Still, despite his sulking, his voice is genuine when he says, “I’m happy for you, man. Gray’s right. You deserve all the recognition. You’ll have scouts banging down your door after tonight’s performance.”
Fuck, I hope so.
Exhilaration pumps through me, and for a brief moment, all feels right in the world. I’m with my best friends. Riley came to watch me play. And I kicked ass tonight. Hope flutters in my stomach as I picture a future in the NHL. A future with Royce and Gray at my side. Hell, there’s even a part of me that can imagine Riley slotting easily into that future, as crazy as that sounds.
A light smack to the chest jolts me out of my thoughts. “The big winner gets to pick the movie tonight,” Royce states, tossing me the remote.
A teasing smirk slides across my face, and spotting it, Gray groans. “Why?” he whines, shifting to glare at Royce. “Why would you give him that power? You realize he’s going to make us watch reruns ofThe Officefor the rest of the night now. I spend half my week in an office.”
Already having navigated to the tv series page, I scoff. “Your office isnothinglike this. You’d probably be far less grouchy if it was.”
“Ass,” Gray grumbles, kicking me half-heartedly in the shin. Giving him the middle finger, I press play on a random episode and smile at the TV as I sink into the couch cushions.
Except, as episode bleeds into episode, I find my attention wavering, and I spend as much time staring at my phone as I do the TV, waiting, hoping for a response from Riley and wondering if I’d be coming on too strong if I messaged her.
“Dude, are you even watching?” Gray grumbles as the theme song for our third episode of the night plays out.
“Of course I am,” I retort, snapping my head up to the TV.
He makes a noise of disagreement. “Then how come you’re looking at your phone every thirty seconds.”
“Shit, did tutor girl go to your game? Is that why you’re in such a good mood?” Royce teases.
“Logan Astor is actually falling for a girl. Who’d have thought we’d see the day?” Gray joins in, the two of them ganging up on me.
“Shut up,” I snark, but there’s zero heat behind it, and based on their matching shit-eating grins, the assholes know it.
“We’re going to have to suss her out,” Royce continues. He’s still teasing, but there’s an edge to his tone that has me narrowing my eyes on him.
“No.” I point a finger directly at him. “I haven’t even been on a date with her yet. I basically had to beg her to come to my game tonight. She’s skittish and I don’t need your moody ass scaring her off so don’t go poking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, Royce grunts out a “fine,” but I know I’ve only put him off for now. It won’t be long before he—or both of them—seek Riley out for themselves and I want to be certain neither of them scares her away. Not when she’s only just started letting me in. Not when I want so much more.
I make it through another couple of episodes ofThe Officebefore mumbling a goodnight and heading to bed. There’s still no response from Riley as I slide between the sheets and reluctantly I admit that I’m not going to get one. Not tonight, at least. And that’s okay. I’ll leave her in peace tonight, but tomorrow… tomorrow, I’m making her mine.
11
RILEY
My eyes drift shut as my hips trace a sinuous arc through the air, the sultry rhythm of the music thrumming through my body. My thoughts drift to the frigid ice rink bathed in the harsh lights of the arena. To the precise and determined way Logan moved across the ice, performing a dance of his own kind.
Remembering how effortlessly Logan’s powerful legs propelled him around the rink, I find my own movements shifting. My body mirroring his. Each twist and turn evokes the sensation of gliding across the ice, my fingertips tracing invisible lines as I echo Logan’s prowess.
For a moment I’m there with him. Not watching from the stands but skating alongside him, my graceful spins mimicking his agile turns, hips swaying with the same rhythm and power that he displayed as he maneuvered the puck.
