Page 145 of Ice Wolf
Players, coaches, and refs circled around us. Now it was team against team, the shouting echoing in my ears.
I had both hands wrapped around Rocco’s shirt, jerking him onto his feet.
Sadly, I didn’t have a chance to finish what I’d started, yanked away by security personnel.
“What the hell?” the coach yelled. “Get it together. Both of you.”
“On the sidelines, Rocco,” the Devils’ coach yelled. “You’re a disgrace to the sport. Both of you.”
When the two of us tried to go at it again, a shrill sound caught my attention. No ordinary man would have heard the whistle above the roar of the crowd.
But I did.
Because I knew the lilt in her voice. Whether talking, which she did too much of. Singing, which I hated to admit she sucked at. Humming, which always managed to take some of the anxiety away. Or whistling, which she enjoyed doing when she was really frustrated with me.
I’d know Lily’s voice anywhere.
And her smile.
And her laugh.
And her scent. As I took a deep breath, a very deep breath, I slowly skated away from the melee. She was here. Not only did I gather a whiff of her awesome perfume and the piercing sound she’d made lingering in my eardrums, but every inch of skin was tingling because of her presence.
With a quick sweep of my eyes, I found her. Very slowly, I started to skate closer. Whether or not the crowd had quieted down I wasn’t certain. But all I could hear was the rapid beating of her heart.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
Or was that mine?
As I closed the distance, signs began to appear. Not just any signs. Not the ones from superfans still encouraging the team after a disastrous game, but something much more personal.
Signs from her held up by my family.
Hey, Wildman. This girl loves you.
Don’t believe everything you see.
There are dark forces attempting to break us apart.
I ripped off my helmet, studying her more intently. Her face was pensive and her eyes imploring.
Suddenly, every phone in the arena was recording the interaction. And there was silence. You could hear a pin drop.
I held out my arms as if asking what she was trying to say.
I was within a few feet, my chest rising and falling.
It means, silly, that I’m asking you a question.
The girl could read my mind. Grinning, I moved closer as she made her way to the ice ring border. “What question?” I shouted.
We were on the Jumbotron, one view concentrated on her, another on what I was doing and my face. Ugly mug that it was.
She lowered the signs, cocking that pretty little head of hers. Her clothes were soaked, her face covered in something dark, which made me laugh. The woman was a mess. But without a doubt, she was the most beautiful woman in the world.
My woman.
My lover.
