Page 126 of Ice Wolf
I skated slowly as I made eye contact with Lily. She was on her feet, clapping with the rest of our fans, but there was a smile of satisfaction on her face. Maybe she’d been trying to prove her loyalty or simply allowing me to know she was in my corner.
None of that mattered.
For all the glory, the pats on the back, and Coach telling me I’d done a damn good job, there was one person I wanted to be near me right about now. And waiting until after we faced a throng of reporters wasn’t going to happen.
The cameras seemed to know exactly what I was doing, one side pinned on my free skate, the other on her face as I neared.
There was no mistaking the delight on either of our faces. As I came closer, she leaned over.
I flew right by her, skidding to a stop and spinning around again. My antics were caught. Another roar went up in the stadium. I skated in a circle before slowly coming to a stop right in front of her.
“What did you think?” I asked, grinning at her and enjoying the sparkle in her eyes.
“Not bad for a rookie.”
“A rookie, huh? I’ll show you what a rookie can do.” When I grabbed her around the waist, she gasped, even pummeling her small fists against me.
I laughed as I dragged her into my arms. The crowd went wild. I held her tightly, spinning her around as I continued skating around the perimeter. We were vaguely cognizant of someone tracking my grandstanding over the loudspeaker, but for the first time, I wasn’t paying a damn bit of attention.
Neither was she.
We only had eyes for each other.
“You’re crazy. You do know you are,” she muttered.
“So what? It gives you something to work with.”
“Oh, I have plenty.” I held her near, enjoying having her so close. She had her hand pressed on my chest and the cameras captured her ring.
As I’d done before, I’d fucked up with her, saying the wrong thing. I’d been able to tell it in her eyes and had kicked myself the entire time since for acting like an idiot.
She’d been cold on the plane, while still playing her part, caught off guard when a couple of people had asked for her autograph, not mine.
People had always bent over backwards to please me before this mess. She never had. Not once. She’d done her best to keep mein line, giving me shit when I needed it and allowing just enough rope to hang myself before yanking me in.
Even on the plane, quiet or not, she’d found a way with just her eyes to put me in my place when the rest of the team were acting like children.
When I’d suggested a selfie of the two of us sitting in our seats, she’d snatched the phone from me when I’d made a funny face. Then she’d grilled me for two solid minutes in her whispered words about how I needed to portray a good image for the team, not be some jokester who thought he was all that and a bag of chips.
In the end, she’d gotten her way; the photograph with our heads together, huge smiles on our faces while she held up her hand showing off her ring was squeaky clean.
The two hundred thousand likes later had barely satisfied her. She’d wanted a million.
The girl dreamed big.
She also had a lust for life.
A passion for defending the little guy.
And a need to control the situations around her.
All in all, the girl was hot when she talked down to me, even hotter when she spoke her mind freely.
Something had caught me off guard during the middle of the game.
I’d been playing for her.
I’d wanted to win for her.
