Chapter 3
three
Ethan
I t can’t be her. What kind of a game is fate playing with me now? While I knew there was a chance I might run into her in my hometown, what are the odds she’s the person who’s in charge of me today? Guess it’s my own fault for not asking who I was supposed to meet, just going with the event coordinator title. I don’t want to be here. Think this is a stupid day to create a celebration around. Not even sure I care about the possibility of joining the Blades.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
What the fuck is wrong with the universe? How the hell am I supposed to spend an entire day with a woman who hates me? Fans I can handle. I know what to expect. Her? I have no idea what’s coming.
Maybe since we’re long past high school, her opinion of me has altered. That’s the best I can hope for. Back then she avoided or acted like she hated me. Suppose it didn’t help that I picked on her. A lot. I loved getting a rise out of her. Her cheeks turned such an adorable shade of pink. And her bright blue eyes sparked with a fire I’d wanted to tame. Even though I was clueless what that even meant.
She stands and I press my lips together to keep from drooling. The curves she wore so well in high school have filled out even more. The swell of her full breasts are contained by a flannel shirt. The soft swell of her jean clad hips make my fingers curl with need. Of course my damn dick decides to join in, pressing uncomfortably against my zipper.
Leaning her hip against the desk, she crosses her arms, putting a strain on the button between her breasts. The voice in the back of my mind sets up a chant calling for the button to pop. I blink. What the hell? Am I reverting to a horny teenager?
“I don’t know whether to say welcome home or not,” Tessa says with a grin. “I sense you’re not necessarily here by choice.”
Keep it cool. I know how to handle women. I shrug one shoulder and decide to not answer her. “I didn’t know about the celebration—Krampus whatever.”
“Krampusnacht. It’s the night before the Feast of Saint Nicholas in some parts of Europe. The saint brings rewards to good children. Some say the Krampus, who travels with him, steals the rewards from misbehaving children. There’s a darker version where the Krampus beats naughty kids with a switch or carries them off in a bag or basket.”
My mind flashes hot with the image of carrying her off and discovering all of her body. No bag or basket needed. And a switch? No. Maybe a single handprint on her ass. Or the goosebumps covering her from the touch of a soft, suede flogger. Biting the inside of my cheek I try to bring my focus back to reality. It’s been a long time since I’ve wanted to let that dominant part of me loose. It’s different than when I’m on the ice.
This need is personal and I ache to get up close and personal with Tessa.
The silence finally registers. Shit, how long have I been staring at her? What was she talking about? Oh…yeah. “Sounds like an odd thing to have a celebration over.”
The narrow, questioning squint of her eyes returns to normal without any recognition of my time lapse. “It’s something new and different in the area and gives people an opportunity to dress up and party. There’s events all over the world. Ours is really tame compared to some. I simply hope to bring everyone in the town together as well as pull in some out-of-towners. Wildwood has a lot to offer visitors. Especially during the holiday season.”
“I haven’t been told exactly what part I’m supposed to have in this. What I’m expected to do.”
She glances at her watch. “There are three events where I’m—we’re expecting your participation. The first starts in half an hour.”
I suppose it doesn’t matter what I end up doing, as long as it shines a good light on the Lynx. And me. That’s why I’m here. The only reason. Seeing Tessa is a bonus.
“Not to worry, Ethan. I’ll keep you on schedule and get you where you need to be.”
Damn, she can keep me any way she wants. Taking a deep breath I remind myself I’m not here for a hook up with my high school crush. Just do the job and leave. “So what’s first?”
Her grin grows wide showing a hint of perfect white teeth. Her expression is open and honest. Nothing like the fake, temptress smiles I’m accustomed to from a puck bunny. Nope, Tessa is no bunny, but she is a rocket. My rocket.
Mine? Where did that possessive thought come from. Doesn’t matter. It feels… right. Mine. Not yet but she will be.
“Hope you brought your skates.”
“Never travel without them.”
“Want me to drive or would you rather follow me to the events?”
I’d follow her anywhere, but the thought of the closeness inside a vehicle would provide makes up my mind. “If you don’t mind driving? Having only one vehicle to park is probably a good idea if you’re planning for a big turnout. And there was some heavy traffic as I came into town.”
Relief fills her expression and some of the tightness in her shoulders visibly relaxes. I wish I knew if it was because I’d taken her up on her offer or because of the traffic remark. Probably the traffic. She pretty much ignored me in high school. Why should it be any different now?
“That’s good to hear.”
The traffic then. Damn. “Where to first?”
“Hockey rink. We’ve got exhibition skates for mites, squirts, and peewees so they can show off to their parents.”
“So little kids.”
There’s a slight pink rising on her cheeks. “Yeah. I had to search for the proper names. I’m… not really into hockey.”
Something about her statement doesn’t ring true but I choose to ignore it. “And you’re stuck with me all day?”
This could work to my advantage. It might be refreshing to not have some woman spouting off a rehearsed speech trying to impress me into bed. I know many of the female hockey groupies do understand and love the sport. Then there’s those who are only out to fuck a player. “Anything you want to know, just ask.”
Tessa gives me a look I can’t interpret then turns to grab her coat from a hook near the door. “I’m planning for you to get on the ice with the kids. Give a few pointers. Make some easy shots for them to chase. Whatever works for you. The Lynx hype team sent a bunch of promotional materials I’m hoping you’ll sign both at the exhibition and again at the Holiday Marketplace. Oh, Sharpies.”
She digs through a desk drawer and pulls out an unopened box of the permanent markers and grins as she holds them out to me. “Here ya go. Hope these are okay.”
I chuckle and take the box, slipping it into my jacket pocket. “Perfect.”
The building has cleared out since my arrival. Everyone must be at the event. I grab my skates and squeeze my broad shoulders into Tessa’s small sedan. Even with the seat all the way back it’s a tight fit and I shrug away her offered apology. It’s a good thing I’m not the biggest guy on the team.
The rink doesn’t look much different than it did when I skated there as a kid. Built close to the schools, it was also used for our competitions so there are plenty of bleachers along both sides of the ice. And those seats are packed. Crowds are also standing behind the dasher boards at each end.
Since the kids are in the locker rooms and Tessa plans to surprise them on ice with my presence, I sit on the bench lining an empty hallway and lace up my skates. When she sits beside me and changes into dark purple skates I lean back and stare.
“What?” she asks as she focuses on her laces.
“You skate?”
She matches my lean, crosses her arms and focuses a strange expression on me. “You don’t remember? When we were in elementary school a bunch of us would go out to my granddad’s place and skate on his pond. He even installed a goal for those of you who were getting into hockey.”
Vague memories surface. A mass of kids stumbling over each other on the small pond while we tried to figure out just standing on skates. Then how to manage all those tangled arms and legs and hockey sticks. “Oh, yeah. How could I have forgotten that? It’s when the love of the game really took hold of me.”
Glancing sideway at me, she tugs her pant legs down to cover the top of her skates. “We were friends back then.”
I squint at her and she gives me a tight grin.
“I see you don’t remember that either. Up until the winter we were in fourth grade.”
Frustrated that I really don’t remember, I shrug. “What happened then?”
“I challenged you to a race here on this rink. In front of most of the school. And I won. Back then I didn’t understand why you wouldn’t talk to me anymore. Or why you stopped hanging out with me.”
The sadness in her eyes hits me like a high shot, square in the chest. I clench my fists on my knees to keep from rubbing at the spot, instead offering a lame excuse. “I was a chump.”
With a soft snort, she rises to her feet. “Nah. You were a nine year old boy who got beat by a girl. At something you excelled in. And in front of your friends. Who, if I remember right, teased you mercilessly. It makes sense now, but I didn’t have the experience to know that then.”
The buzzer from the rink interrupts anything I might think of to say. Probably a good thing as I attempt to solidify the event hovering at the edge of my memories. How do I reply to a revelation like that? Especially when all I see is her teasing grin and sparkling eyes.
“Time to hit the ice, Crunch.” She continues to study me a moment. “How did you get that nickname anyway?”
“Long story.” Not one I want to get into right now. So I change the subject. “What exactly do you want me to do now?”
She stows our skate bags in a locker and hands me the key. Wobbling slightly, she adjusts to her guard covered thin blades then starts toward the rink entrance, answering me over her shoulder. “Nothing too involved. Skate around the rink a few times with each group. Maybe coach them on shooting or some aspect of the game. You’ll see their skill levels once the kids are on the ice. Make it easy, but useful for them.”
Following the sway of her soft, round ass is easy. Keeping track of her words, not so much. It’s like I can’t think and drool at the same time. Then my dick decides to get caught up in the mix. “So, uh… skate and coach?”
I can do that much. I think.