Page 165 of Cold As Ice

“You were?”

“Isn’t that right, Imogen?”

“Princess Immy,” she reminded me through a mouthful of cereal.

“Sorry, Princess Immy.”

She grinned showing me the rest of her breakfast, and Madison smothered a laugh.

“I wikes Austins, Mommy. Next time he sleeps overs can he sleep in my room?”

“I… I’m not sure that’s… Eat your cereal.” Madison’s cheeks flushed firetruck red, and it was my turn to hide my amusement. “I see I had nothing to worry about,” she murmured.

“I guess not.”

Smug satisfaction swelled inside me. We could do this—move at our own pace as fast or slow as we wanted.

Until Madison said, “Don’t you have to be at practice soon?”

Shit.

I did.

“Go. We’ll be fine,” she said.

“I can text Coach and tell him—”

“Go. We’ve got this, don’t we, princess?”

“We gots it, Austins.” Imogen grinned again.

“Okay, but I’ll call you later.”

“Go!” They both laughed but I didn’t.

I was fucking stunned.

Because for the first time in my life I wanted to choose something other than hockey.

* * *

“Where the fuck have you been?” Noah hissed as I hurried into the locker room.

“I overslept.”

“You over—” He stopped himself and narrowed his eyes at me. “You mean you got laid.”

“Firstly, I didn’t. And secondly, it’s none of your fucking business.”

I ran a hand down my face. Exhaustion lingered in my muscles, and the last thing I wanted to do was spend ninety minutes on the ice deflecting my teammates pucks, but I was a Laker and that still meant something to me.

Even if part of me wished I could have stayed with Madison and Imogen.

“So, what happened?” Noah probed.

“We’re taking it slow,” I said with a dismissive tone.

“Taking it slow. What the fuck does that mean? You were obviously at her place last night. Was her kid—”

---