Page 2 of Snapping the Ice
“Oh, that won’t be a problem.” Ezra’s dark gaze snagged on mine in the mirror and he looked away.
Was he joking? If he was, why wasn’t he smiling? I dropped into the chair on the left and peered at myself, my almost black curls cradling my face and falling past the collar of my shirt in back. My blue eyes stared back at me, the same shade as my brother Mason’s. We had the same coloring, but Mason had straighter hair.
“Let’s see what we’ve got to work with.” Ezra combed his fingers through the sides of my hair, pulling at the locks.
My scalp tingled, and heat burned in my belly. I peeked at him from under my bangs. What was it about him that made me so nervous? Was it because he never smiled? He was otherwise friendly…
“We could tame these curls a little, but I like the wild look they have.” He dragged my bangs to the side, giving them a messy part. “Yes, like that.” He tilted his head. “You have great hair.”
“Uh, thanks.” I squirmed in the chair, heat prickling frommy scalp to my back. This was weird, having a guy touching me like this. But then he probably did this all the time. I should make conversation to get my mind off him touching me. “So, uh, how long have you been a photographer?”
He picked up a bottle and spritzed my hair, holding it in place with one hand. “Professionally, almost three years. As a hobby, my whole life.” He primped my hair. “How long have you played for the Phoenix Firebirds?”
“This is my first year. I played in college for a few years, then decided college wasn’t for me.” I peered at him as he focused on my hair. He was obviously a creative type. I’d never hung out with artistic people. I’d only hung around jocks and hockey players specifically.
“What college did you go to?” He twisted the chair to the side, and he faced me, brushing his fingers along my temples and down to my jaw.
“Uh, University of Minnesota.” As my gaze crept to his face, I breathed in deeply. My heart thumped against my ribcage. I had to calm the fuck down. The guy was only doing his job, nothing more. But we were alone in here…Jesus fuck. Like I couldn’t take him if he tried something? Heat crept into my balls. What did I think he’d do to me?
“I’ll put some foundation on, then maybe a little eyeliner, blush, and some powder.” He stepped back. “Are you okay with that?”
“Sure, why wouldn’t I be? It’s not like I have a problem with gay shit.” I popped my eyes open. That didn’t come out right. “I mean…” Fuck.
His eyes narrowed. “I should hope not.” He pressed his generous lips together. “Wearing makeup does not make you gay. A lot more men should try it.” With a huff, he picked up a bottle.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. Mybrother’s gay, actually. He has a husband and everything. They play for the Cardinals. He’s a center and his husband is a winger.”
“Oh, really?” He squirted beige cream onto his finger and tapped it on my cheeks, forehead and chin and then rubbed it in.
“Yeah, it’s one reason I’m out here. He helped me sign the with Cardinals and now if this season goes well, I’m hoping to move up next year and play with them.” I blew out a ragged breath. How much did he know about hockey? I bet he didn’t care. Taking our photos was just a job for him. “My position with the Firebirds is just to hone my skills.”
“You’re not talking about Mason Hopkins and Jett Jarvis, are you?” He stepped back, inspecting his work.
“I am.” My fingers dug into the padding on the chair’s armrest. “Do you watch hockey?”
“No, but most gay men know about them. They’re helping to bring about change for queer men in sports.” The edges of his lips twitched in an almost grin.
Was he gay? I didn’t want to stereotype, but…“Are you um, are you gay?” I forced my gaze to his and my heart fluttered.
“I am.” He lifted his chin and pouted. “It’s not always easy.” He twisted and plucked a pencil from the table.
“I know. Jett didn’t feel like he could come out to his family, and his old team bullied him.” Did Ezra know much about it? Fuck, did he even care? I studied him.
He halted, setting a palm on the table and dipping his head. “I know how that is.” With a sigh, he faced me and set his fingers on my cheek. “Look up.”
I tipped my head back. He must have had problems with his family, too.
“I said, look up, with your eyes, not your head.” He freed a barely there chuckle.
“Oh, sorry.” With a smirk, I peeked at him, and warmthfloated through my chest. He’d almost smiled and damn, it did something to me.
“So, are you from Minnesota?” He lined my eyes with the pencil and smudged it. “You don’t sound like it to me, but what do I know? I’m from Alabama.” He stepped back, holding my chin and trailing his gaze across my face.
“No, I’m from Connecticut. I got a hockey scholarship, and it’s one of the better schools for the sport, so that’s where I ended up.”
“Mm-hmmm.” With a quick nod, he picked up a container with pinkish powder in it and a fat brush. “Just a little on the cheeks. Don’t worry, I’ll keep you looking manly.” He patted the bristles into the powder and swiped it across my cheeks. “What did you study?”
“Uh, nothing. I just finished some general classes for a Bachelor of Arts degree.” Mason had finished college with a degree in business, but that wasn’t me. My only purpose in life was hockey. Okay, maybe I’d go back someday and do online courses. My gaze locked on Ezra’s brooding eyes and my thoughts ripped free, my heart beating into my throat. He was fucking stunning. If he were a woman, I’d definitely?—
