Chapter 73
TATE
The next morning, Jordan, Volkov, Miller, and I watch from the bench as the guys scrimmage on the ice.
The guys are all mixed up, the line between pro and farm teams blurred, and there’s a spike of pride and satisfaction in my chest.
Jordan was right. Changing the lines is how we’re going to come back from this.
She slept in my bed last night, too. She came on my hand and again on my mouth and I came all over those gorgeous breasts of hers.
We fell asleep and I slept like the dead.
The urge to tell her everything, how I’m in love with her and want her to be a part of our family, sits at the edge of my thoughts every waking moment, but I hold back.
She still needs time.
At the sidelines, Darcy sits with her laptop, making notes about what she’s seeing. From his office at the top of the arena, Ross watches.
The guys play for a bit and our attention catches on one player.
I blow the whistle. “Hallstrom,” I call, waving him over. He used to play center back in Sweden before he came to the minors.
Rasmus Hallstrom skates to the bench, breathing hard. He’s young, maybe early twenties. Light brown hair, medium build, and from what I saw at the bar last night, quiet and serious.
I gesture at Jordan, giving her the floor.
“You want to play center again?” she asks.
“Yes.” He holds her gaze, then mine. “I’m too good to play in the minors.”
Jordan lets out a light laugh. At my side, Alexei crosses his arms, glaring at him.
I smile. “Well, let’s see what you can do.”
He skates away for another face off and Jordan gives me a sidelong look, like she just figured something out. Like she knows she’s right.
“Play him with the third line,” she says.
“As you wish.”
With Hallstrom in as center with the third-line pro wingers, the game restarts.
We’re supposed to be watching all the guys, observing how they interact and play together, how the dynamic shifts as the lines change, but all of us focus on Hallstrom.
He weaves and darts, skating harder than any other player on the ice.
He passes between the wingers with ease, like they’ve been playing together for years.
A broad grin pulls across Jordan’s face, and everything in my chest expands.
“Looks like we found our new third-line centerman,” I tell her.