Page 119 of Icing Hearts

“It will also, hopefully, be the month I make you my wife.”

“Better be.”

“Before or after the draft?”

“After. I want it to be a celebration of love and hockey. I also want to be settled in knowing where we’ll end up.”

We’ve been in talks with several NHL teams. Tory has researched them all and made a spreadsheet complete with information about location, player, and coach stats, along with where he thinks he’ll be picked up in the draft. We want Canada. We’re accustomed to the cold, and I want to be even further from his family. The chief lost his job, but he still roams free so the international border between us is an added benefit.

“Wow. Are you real?”

“Pinch me and find out.”

He pinches the flesh of my hip under the blanket. The last six weeks have been a time of physical healing as well as emotional. My hips are wider now. A happy byproduct of my healing has been some healthy weight gain.

“Say the word, Clara. One word from you and my lips would only leave yours under threat of imminent violence.”

“Kiss me.”

“That was two. The one I was looking for is pl—”

“Now.”

He shudders with delight. Grazes his lips against mine before fusing them together.

When we finally separate, I ask him, “Aren’t you worried about other boys?”

“Not really. Not from your end, at least. I certainly trust you. But I should warn you, being the beautiful new girl will get you a lot of attention for the first few weeks of school.”

“You think?”

“Absolutely. Guys will be coming at you from every angle. The girls will be mad about it. Just stay the course. If you’re aloof to the boys and kind to the girls, you’ll have everyone in your corner by October.”

“I’m nervous. I’m still not good at the whole friends thing. I can’t ‘be myself’ because my nature is to only show what I want people to see and keep things light.”

“Honesty helps. To whatever degree you can manage. At some point, you’ll have to get comfortable being uncomfortable.”

“Yuck.”

He huffs a laugh. “How about you set a friendship goal? You’re goal-oriented.”

“Good idea. I would like, maybe…maybe one good friend by Christmas. Someone I can bring to the tournament. And…hm, I’ll go to two parties a month. And all the home sporting events. At least the ones the other kids are going to. Having the truck will help. I can offer people rides.”

“Worked for me.” He smiles, eyes alight with mischief.

“When we get married, this is how we’ll sleep. Every night. You on my chest. Hair fanned over my shoulder. One leg on each side of my hips. It’s bliss.”

“Can’t do it when I get pregnant someday.”

“Oh, well, our marriage bed will be kept purely chaste. No need to worry about that. Cooties and all.”

I laugh and sneak my hands beneath the hem of his shirt to dance along the taut muscle hidden below. Though, there’s truly no hiding Tory’s physique. With my ear flat against his chest, I can hear quickening staccato of his heart rate as I tease along the hem of his boxer briefs.

“Teasing aside, that’s what I’m counting down the days until.”

“Until I’m pregnant? You’re off by a few thousand days…”

“No.” He flips us in a whirl. The truck bucks in response. “The practice.”

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