Page 7 of From Ice to Grace
Will I retaliate?
I give them nothing but cool, controlled responses.
After what feels like forever, the cameras get out of my face and I can breathe again.
Grabbing my stuff, I head toward the team bus with the rest of the guys. The second I step into the parking lot, a feminine frame leaning against a post draws my attention.
Melissa. Right, I forgot that she flew in for the game.
Usually, I’d welcome the distraction of my pick of the season. But right now, I can do without having to put up another smile and pretend everything is fine.
She straightens, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder. Her skirt is short and she’s wearing my number across her back. She’s definitely someone who draws attention, and I won’t lie…having her waiting here for me does something for my slightly bruised ego.
“Are you okay?” she asks, putting her hands on my face, a small pout forming on her lips. “That last call was undeserved.”
“Nothing I can’t handle,” I tell her, pulling away from her and the sympathetic expression on her face. If she can’t keep it fun and light, then she won’t be able to stay. I don’t want someone who’s going to feel sorry for me every time I get a penalty or get thrown off the ice. It’s part of the game.
She reaches for me again, but I wrap my hands around her wrists and gently lower them down to her sides. I lean in for a kiss, knowing that this is a good way to keep her from talking too much and asking more questions I have no energy to answer.
A small cough followed by the click of heels on the pavement, catches my attention. My gaze lifts over Melissa's head. A flash of blonde hair and a fiery expression of pure disgust is clearly visible across the parking lot.
Avah Johansson.
I haven’t seen her since our little run in at Lucas and Hannah’s wedding. But I should’ve known that she’d make her appearance sooner or later.
“Seriously, roll your eyes a little harder,” my voice is loud and clear across the parking lot.
I loved riling her up that night at the wedding. It was obvious that she wanted to avoid any altercation with me. It was almost like she felt bad for talking to me the way she did. Which, of course, only makes me want to push back harder. If she wants to make me feel like trash, then why can’t I return the favor?
“Hopefully they’ll fall out,” I add, grinning as her eyes narrow. She shakes her head, still walking to her car before she halts.
Yes, I think inwardly. I hit a nerve.
“I should be so lucky,” she tosses back. “Then I wouldn’t have to be a witness to your sleaze every single game.”
She turns her back on me again, and I swear I can feel her rolling her eyes at me.
“Listen, Doll,” I say, looking down to where Melissa is watching me with a slight frown on her face. “I’m glad you came, but why don’t we meet up at the hotel? But only for a few minutes. From there we’ll be flying back to New York.”
We didn’t travel together since wives and girlfriends make their own plans for away games. I didn’t think she’d come all this way this early in the season, especially since away games don’t really allow a lot of free time. Team obligations take most of our time when we travel.
And honestly, I prefer it that way.
Otherwise I’m stuck with having to carve out time I don’t have only to keep up appearances.
Melissa follows my gaze to Avah, before gently nodding. She stands on her tip toes and kisses me again. This time it’s a kiss that has one of my teammates wolf whistling. Melissa gives me a suggestive smile before walking off.
She might not be the best conversationalist. But she has her strong points.
I watch as Melissa walks off toward her car, while Avah’s retreating frame is in my peripheral vision. As Melissa leaves, I jog after Avah. Why I feel the need to continue this sparring match is beyond me, but somehow this is more exciting than the prospects of meeting Melissa back at the hotel.
Avah unlocks her car as I make my way up to her. Just as she opens it, I put my hand out and shut the door again, boxing her in and forcing her to turn to face me.
“What do you want?” she asks. “Got tired of Botox Barbie already? She’s only been to two games, there’s a full eighty left.”
It kind of sounds like she’s daring me to admit that my attraction to Melissa is superficial and kind of non-existent. And as much as I hate to tell her she’s right, there’s a reason I stick to the arrangement I have. It’s easy and simple.
It might’ve started out as a superstition, but now it’s just routine. It’s clean cut. No strings.
