Page 55 of From Ice to Grace
He pulls them out of his pocket and starts twirling them around his finger, taunting me.
“So you’re moving?” he asks. “Where? This is a really great place. It even has a fireplace, that’s a hard find. Why leave?”
This morning I managed to avoid him—rather successfully—and I didn’t think he’d be back. Maybe ever. And somehow he’s here again. Lounging in my living room while taking in every part of my personal living space.
“It’s not really any of your business.” I step closer to him, holding out my hand while the other rests firmly on my hip. “Now give me my keys.”
He continues to twirl my keys around his finger, the smile on his face only deepening as he stares me down with his dark brown eyes. There's a flash of amusement in them…he’s enjoying this.
“You’re moving,” he says, tilting his head a little like he’s assessing me. “And if it were merely down the street, you would’ve told people about it. EJ would’ve known, even Hannah. I’m sure you would’ve mentioned it at dinner since our little group loves talking about anything and everything. Lindgren would be here carrying boxes…he can’t help himself, it’s the Minnesota in him. Which means you didn’t tell them.”
I grind my teeth. “Nothing gets by you, does it.” Reaching out, I try to grab the keys, but he rips it out of reach.
“Now Snowflake, didn’t your mother ever teach you not to grab things from other people?” he asks, teasing. “It’s bad manners.”
I exhale sharply, stepping back. His tone is playful, but there’s an edge beneath it, like he would really like an answer to his question.
“I’m not playing, Declan.”
He twirls the keys within my grasp and everything inside of me wants to rip it from his finger and win this little game.
“So what?” he presses. “You look pretty much packed up. Were you going to disappear overnight? Without even saying goodbye?”
“How far do you think I’d get without my car?” I ask, taking a small step forward, hoping he doesn’t notice. “Plus, why would you want me to say goodbye anyway?”
Hoping my question throws him off, I try to reach for the keys again, this time reaching further. I lose my balance and he reaches for me, catching me before I can hit the floor.
His grip is steady, strong, his face suddenly close to mine. This close I have the perfect view of those golden flecks, bits of sparks in the brown.
“Who else will spar with me, Snowflake?” he asks, amusement glinting in his eyes.
My pulse betrays me. With him being this close I grab the keys from him, before straightening away from him.
With my fingers clutched around my keys, it’s hard not to gloat a bit. I won. But it doesn’t feel like it when the glint in his eyes dims. Something heavier clearly settles over him as he braces his forearms on his knees. His voice is quieter when it comes again, this time stripped from the edge it held a few minutes ago.
“Listen,” he says, his jaw working before he finds the words. “I wanted to thank you for last night.”
The seriousness in his tone makes me falter. I turn, needing the distance between us. Setting my keys back in their place, I put the kitchen counter between us.
“It was nothing,” I say, trying to find my bearings again.
“No,” he says, shaking his head. His eyes are still cast down, his voice heavy with regret. “It wasn’t nothing.” He pauses running a hand over his face. “I was in a very bad spot and I need you to know that I appreciate what you did for me. It could’ve gotten so much uglier if you hadn’t showed up, and I’m already in a tough spot as it is. So you really saved me back there.”
His sincerity tugs at my heart. He’s not supposed to be this real, this unguarded…not with me anyway. But the fact that he is, flips everything I thought I knew about him upside down.
Remembering the state he was in has my eyes flicking up to the spot above his eye, where he’s still sporting the small bandage.
“I saw the video on your suspension,” I say, thinking about how that hit has been on my social media feed on repeat. “It can't be fun having to watch that over and over again.”
“Not the best feeling, no,” he says with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “My agent’s not too happy with me either. And don’t even get me started on Harry.”
“So you’re in a lot of trouble?” I ask, knowing the answer. Harry Matlock is very strict when it comes to the image of his team. And it doesn’t take a genius to know that Declan has been damaging that image…on and off the ice.
He grimaces. “Major trouble.”
“Well, maybe you deserve it. I mean you did hit that guy pretty hard.”
He nods, no excuses. “I did. Harry says Brodin is out for a few games too.”
