Page 93 of Lucky Shot
I laugh. “The first thing.”
“Right, because you already know he makes being obnoxious a full-time job.” Nick’s smile pulls higher on one side, then falters slightly. “Yeah. Injuries are a part of the job, for sure.”
“The worst I have to deal with is eye strain from staring at the screen too long or the occasional hand pain from typing too much.”
“And no annoying teammates.”
“You love them.”
He sighs, still grinning. “I do, unfortunately.”
After the guys are done, we gear up. I’m more nervous with Travis and Conrad around to witness my skills, or lack thereof, but Nick is so damn comforting.
“You got it, Red. Nice and easy. Grab on to me if you need.”
I’m not sure if I need to or not, but I take the opportunity to touch him. He skates backward in front of me. So smooth, so confident, so damn hot.
He’s in practice gear—padding, jersey, helmet, the works. He’s a big guy and I always feel small next to him but now more than ever.
“If I punched you in the stomach, would you even feel it?”
He quirks a brow. “I don’t know, but you’d probably throw off your momentum and fall.”
I open my mouth to protest, but he’s got a point.
“Are you looking forward to the season starting?” I ask. I overheard Travis talking about how he was excited to get back to it in a few weeks.
“Yeah.” He bobs his head as he answers, not sounding all that convincing.
“But?”
“I get to spend more time with Aidan during the summer and being gone so much is hard on him.”
“On him or you?”
He gives me a sheepish smile. “A little of both, probably.”
“Is your schedule and juggling time with Aidan why you haven’t tried to date?” I ask. He told me last night that he’s kept things casual out of convenience but the more I’ve thought about it, the more it feels like a poor excuse.
“Yeah.”
“I’m sure there are plenty of women who would be happy to work around hockey and everything else. You’re a catch.”
He keeps smiling, but he isn’t quite selling it.
I stop skating and so does he. With one hand on his forearm, I steady myself. “What’s the real story behind why you and Aidan’s mom didn’t work out?”
Immediately, his expression shifts and he looks like he’d rather face-plant into the ice than tell me.
“Sorry. It’s none of my business.” I flash him an apologetic smile. “I’ve gotten so used to interviewing you.”
I drop my hand and start skating again, moving past him. He catches up, staying beside me.
“There really isn’t much else to say. We were both busy and neither of us made enough of an effort to keep things going.”
“That surprises me.”
He raises both brows in silent question.
