28. Grant #2
“Where’s the guy who signed an eight-year contract extension?” She shifts, creating distance between us. “I know you’re going to give it your best effort.”
“I always do.” I crouch low, energized. “Three, two, one. Go,” I yell.
Amelia takes off like a bullet from the get-go, and I’m already behind by center ice. I stay fairly close—close enough to believe I still have a shot—until we turn and head back to the starting line. When we do, she kicks into another gear, and I never stood a chance in this race.
She finishes a full two seconds ahead of me, not even winded when I cross the line and put my hands on my thighs, greedily sucking down as much oxygen as I can.
“That was an ass kicking,” I pant. “God damn, woman. Are you sure you didn’t grow wings and fly?”
“Come on.” Her grin is lethal. The sight of it makes me want to faint. “You can do better than that.”
“I don’t know, Coach.” I swallow, forcing my heart rate to slow down. “I’m not sure I can.”
“I believe in you.” She puts a palm on my shoulder, squeezing once. Fucking butterflies swarm in my stomach. “Use your size to your advantage. You’re smaller than a lot of the guys you’re going to be up against, so try to keep your center of gravity low.”
“I will attempt to keep that in mind.” I straighten. “I’m ready now.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. Let’s go. And don’t you dare try to take it easy on me this time.”
“Please.” Her laugh tells me she finds the concept hysterical. “You know me better than that.”
We switch sides, and I let her count us down. Anticipating her quick burst off the start, I match her energy. I drop low and pump my arms as I push the ice away with my skates.
We’re neck and neck at the halfway mark, drifting closer to each other as we move toward the finish line. I can hear her heavy breathing and the soft grunt she lets out.
I wonder where else she makes those noises.
There’s no time to daydream about the sounds though, because I’m hit with the recognition that I’m tripping.
I don’t know how it happens, and I don’t know who is to blame.
What I do know is our skates collide. The front of mine knocks against the back of hers, and it’s forceful enough for her to lose her balance.
She leans forward at an angle that tells me she’s about to face-plant, but I’m there before she can.
My arms wrap around her middle. I cut in front of her, letting her ram into my chest as I tip backward.
I wait for my head to slam against the ice, but the fall is cushioned by a hand tangled in my hair.
Fingers gripping tight, a body pressed firmly against mine.
A mumbled fuck by either her or me, I don’t know, and the wind gets knocked out of my lungs.
“Are you okay?” Amelia pats my cheek. “Grant. I need you to answer me.”
“I’m okay.” I squint, looking up and searching her face. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she whispers. When she shifts, her hips pin against mine. I gulp down a breath, willing myself to think about anything but the position we’re in. “I tried to protect your head.”
“You did a good job. Pretty sure you saved me.” I relax, enjoying her fingers that are still threaded in my hair.
I stare up at the ceiling, hating that I ever joined a club hockey team all those years ago.
Why can’t I be a fan? Someone who works in an office so I could shoot my shot with her.
This would be the perfect moment to kiss her, but I can’t.
“I think that was my fault, and I’m sorry. ”
“It might have been mine. My ankle turned out. I lost control.” Her exhale is measured and hollow. She looks down at me, and I swear she leans half an inch closer. I might be concussed. “But you caught me.”
“Didn’t want you to get hurt.” I move my hand from where it’s resting on the curve of her ass up to her back, trying to touch her as lightly as possible. When I do, I’m met with bare skin where her shirt has ridden up, and Amelia gasps. “I should, ah, probably—”
Amelia’s expression morphs to panic, and she lets go of my head. There’s franticness in the way she pops to her feet while I’m left lying on my back.
“There we go,” she says, keeping her voice light.
“I’m sorry,” I say, and the mood shifts between us.
“No big deal. An accident, right? Happens all the time. I’m glad you’re okay.
” Her face is red. Goosebumps dot her arms, and I have to drag my eyes away from her chest where her nipples are noticeably hard through her shirt.
This is how I die. “It’s, um, getting late in the day, and I have a team meeting tonight. I should go.”
“Give me a second.” I sit up. “I’ll drive you to your hotel.”
“That’s okay,” she rushes out. “I’ll take an Uber. Less of an inconvenience for you.”
“Are you sure? I—”
“Positive.” She’s already moving toward the bench by the time I sit up, grabbing her shoes and beelining for the tunnel. “Thanks for lunch. I’ll see you around.”
Amelia disappears faster than I can blink, and I don’t have time to say anything else. I sit there, confused if I did something wrong, while wondering if she ran away from me because she felt the same spark between us that I did.