Page 141 of Rebound
Oh. So, this is what it feels like to have a partner who wants to lift you up. This warm, fuzzy glow of safety that if I fall, he’ll catch me.
“Okay.” I nod. “Let’s play.”
Roman grins, kissing me quickly before skating back to pick up his stick. He drops the puck onto the ice, and we get into the face off position. I’ve spent the last two years watching him play. I know exactly what he’s going to do before he does it.
As soon as he drops the puck, I’m ready with my stick. I’m chasing it down to the goal before he even realizes what’s happened. But he catches on quickly and he’s beside me, swiping the puck out from under me.
I manage to wrestle it away from him and score a goal. Raising both arms up in the air, I turn to face him.
“If you need some tips on how to play hockey, I’m more than willing to give them,” I mock. How did I think I was going to fail at this? It’s like muscle memory.
Roman laughs, shaking his head. “You got lucky. Let’s see if you get the next one.”
“That’s a clever excuse men always use when they’re losing. Why don’t you think of something original while I score my next goal?”
I have to say this, he’s not here to let me win. A fact I appreciate. I have the puck again and I’m streaking down the ice when he corners me against the boards, his body pressing into me.
“Seeing you play hockey makes me so hard,” he whispers in my ear, before he places a searing kiss on my neck.
It has the intended effect, and I lose the puck. He swipes it out from under me and it takes me a second to realize what he’s done. I whirl around and throw him a dirty look.
“If you can’t win fair and square then maybe you shouldn’t be playing,” I call out to him.
He scores a goal and turns around to face me, raising his arms in question. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I scored a goal fair and square.”
“Yeah, after you distracted me.”
His grin is lascivious. “Are you easily distracted by me, Blossom?”
“I’m easily annoyed by you.”
He drops the puck in the middle again and this time I’m aware of his dirty game, so I don’t let him distract me. When he tries to whisper filth in my ear, I elbow him and steal the puck. His laughter follows me as I score a goal.
“That’s 2-1!”
As I skate past him, he grabs my arm and stops me.
“Let me know if you need a break,” he says.
“What, scared of losing to me?”
Pushing him away, I take a few slap shots. It’s so freeing to be on the ice again. Sure, there aren’t any fans, no audience, no competition to win. But I was almost afraid to get back out here.
“You know this is the first time I’m skating since my injury?”
I look back at Roman in time to see him blink at me in surprise. “I figured you would’ve gotten back on the ice as soon as possible.”
“I wanted to. I had this debilitating fear that I wouldn’t be where I was before the injury.”
It feels monumental to be here, like I’ve broken invisible chains that have been holding me back for the last two years.
“You’re clearly still at the top of your game,” Roman says, wryly. He skates up to me, ready for our face off again. Before we get the chance, the door to the rink opens and a boy walks in. He’s tall, with a head of curly dark hair, a bag pulled over one shoulder. He can’t be older then seventeen or eighteen.
Roman straightens when he sees him.
“Ty, you’re early.”
The boy shrugs. “Figured I’ll get in a bit of practice before you showed up.” He ushers Roman closer but doesn’t realize that his voice echoes. “Did you bring her here to impress her? A little one on one session with Roman Maddox?”
