Page 102 of From Ice to Grace
I smack him on the back, hard. “You’ll get over it, Barney.”
“Guess you wouldn't miss me, especially since you get to go home to her,” he says gesturing behind me.
I turn to see Avah coming toward me. Her hair is in a long braid, tossed over her shoulder, her blue eyes sparking with excitement as her gaze lands on me. She’s wearing tight jeans and heels, and of course a Rangers jersey. Hannah is right next to her, her smile widening as she peels off toward Lucas.
“Since when are women allowed back here?” I ask, watching Avah draw near, warmth spreading in my chest.
Lindgren shakes his head, muttering something about Disney, before heading off toward the tunnel.
She lifts her left hand, wiggling her fingers, her diamond ring glinting in the overhead lights. “I have a VIP pass.”
I narrow my gaze at her…wondering. She’s always worn EJ’s number, never missing her brother’s games and supporting him at home and away. She’s been a constant with the Rangers for the past year.
But that was before…
“Turn around for a sec?” I ask.
“Why?” she asks, lifting her brows with suspicion.
I shrug. “Humor me.”
She spins around slowly. There, stretched across her shoulders, is my name across her back, the number 23 bold in blue against white. Seeing the number makes me think of Psalm 23…the first line popping up in my mind for some reason.
The Lord is my Shephard. I lack nothing.
Maybe it’s because the pastor preached on it last week, or maybe it’s because it’s her.
For a second, I’m caught off-guard, but then it settles. It fits.
She faces me again, frowning. “What are you looking for?” she asks. “Is something wrong?”
My chest swells and for a moment I can’t believe this is happening. The woman who’s always given me a hard time, the one who said that she would never hate herself enough to waste a minute on me, is now wearing my jersey.
“I’m just checking to see if there are any pigs flying around,” I say, unable to keep a giant smile from spreading on my face.
“What—”
“Cause you’re wearing my jersey, Snowflake.” I can’t deny the fact that I absolutely love seeing my name and number on her. I can’t believe I’ve spent all this time handing out my jersey to other women…whoever wanted it, they could have it.
When Avah was clearly made to wear it.
She tries to jam her tiny fist in my stomach and I flex on instinct.
“All steel, Snow.” I smirk. “Your tiny fist ain’t making a dent.”
“You have a problem with your ego,” she says, rolling her eyes.
“I aim to please,” I tell her. Glancing over her shoulders, there are a few reporters at the end of the hallway, their cameras now shifting toward us. “They’re watching us.”
“That’s their job,” she says with a teasing smile. “You should be doing yours and try to keep the puck from going right past you. You can even try to score a goal.”
I grin. “True, so maybe you should just give your husband a kiss so I can go kill the Swede trying to steal my place.”
Avah blushes, following my gaze to where more of the press are now realizing we’re in the hallway.
“You’re enjoying this way too much,” she says, stepping closer, her hands resting on my chest.
I can’t deny that I am. But not for the reasons she might think.
