Grant
FORTY-SIX
Puck Kings
Easy E
Did you make it out of Denver, G-Money? I’m sitting first class lol
Sully
Did you come out of the womb being a pretentious asshole, Richardson? Or did it take time for you to become so insufferable?
Huddy Boy
Ignore him. Piper, Madeline, and Lexi went out to Los Angeles for All-Star weekend to support Emmy, and he’s lonely.
Mavvy
*Attachment: 1 image*
How does it feel to know I’m hanging out with your wife while you’re at home, Sullivan? ;)
Mitchy
Don’t egg him on, Mav.
Me
I’m so glad you’re back in the chat, Mitchy!
And to answer your question, E, I’m still in Denver. I have a flight scheduled for tomorrow morning.
Huddy Boy
That sucks that you’re stuck, G. Are you at the airport and bored out of your mind?
Me
Nah. I’m staying entertained :)
“Let’s see what you got, Green.” I crouch low. “Is your aim as good as it is with a puck?”
“Are you taunting me, Everett?” Amelia calls out from the other side of the park with a snowball in her hands. “That’s not very nice.”
The flurries stopped coming down an hour ago, and after making a snowman together, we moved to the athletic portion of the late-afternoon.
“Just chirping,” I answer. The tips of my ears feel like they’re about to freeze off, and I shiver when a gust of wind rips through the air. “I’ll never get to do that with you in a game, so I figured before our snowball competition was the perfect time.”
“Do you want a head start?”
“Why would I need a head start? Are you planning on chasing me in the seven-inch-high snow?”
“I read that dark romance book you mentioned when I was DC. There was a chase scene in it, and I figured maybe you’d like that kind of thrill in real life.” Amelia tosses the snowball and catches it with a wicked gleam. “If you want to run, Grant, I’ll track you down.”
Hell.
My dick twitches at the thought of her reading that book alone in her room.
Did she like the chase scene too?
Is that the kind of thing she’d be into?
Does she slip her hand into her shorts and—
Something hits me right in the face. I scream and paw at my eyes, panicking when my vision turns to a sheet of white.
“Oh my god. Am I dead? Is this the light at the end of the tunnel?” I fall backward, and my ass lands on a soft surface. “Where did my nose go?!”
“It’s snow.” Amelia’s burst of laughter echoes around me, and I clear my face enough to see. She’s bent over, hands on her thighs as she wheezes. “Did you really think your nose fell off?”
“Yes! I thought that was it for me.” I groan and put a palm over my chest, trying to catch my breath. “Fuck. It’s so cold. The snow went down the back of my sweatshirt, and it’s melting into my pants.”
“Please let me see,” she says.
“If you want to see my wet ass, you’re going to have to give me a hand, Lia.”
“Fine. I guess I can do that.”
I hold out my arm. Amelia walks toward me and takes my palm in hers. When her fingers wrap around mine, I tug. She falls forward with a loud squeal and face-plants next to me. Her gasping breath makes me cackle, and I roll onto my side to look at her.
“That’s payback,” I rasp. My gloves are soaked, and my hands are starting to sting. “For making me think I lost my vision.”
“Not cool, Everett.” She flips onto her back and looks at me with a grin. Her nose is red. There’s snow caught in the ends of her pigtails, and her cheeks are flushed. “I hope you’re prepared for what happens next.”
“Yeah?” I grab a handful of snow and pack it tight. I toss it at her, chuckling when she flails and tries to cover her head. “Now you can have a wet ass too.”
“Stop. My stomach hurts from laughing.” Amelia giggles. She spreads her arms and legs out then brings them to her body while making a snow angel. “I never thought my ass cheeks would go numb. What a weird sensation.”
“Talk about a kink.” I sit up and dust off my hoodie. “How are you holding up over there, instigator?”
“I’m thriving. I was made for the snow. You can’t bring my spirits down.”
“I forget you Wisconsinites love to be frozen.”
“It’s the preferred temperature.” She’s slow to stand. When she’s upright, she glances at me with the shake of her head. “You’re on your own to get up. I’m not trusting you again.”
“Good thing I’m capable at handling things myself.
” I pop to my feet. My clothes are soaked from head to toe thanks to the melted snow, and Amelia’s jacket is wet too.
“We might have to raincheck the snowball fight. There are only three more days of the All-Star break, and we don’t need to spend them sick. ”
“I’m going to pretend you’re conceding because you know you’d lose,” she says, and I can see her breath as she talks. “Not because you care about my well-being.”
That’s a goddamn lie.
I know I care about her well-being too much because I want to hold her against my chest. I want to run a warm bath for her and braid her hair while I make sure she isn’t cold anymore.
I can’t tell her those things, so I give her a smile instead.
“You’d kick my ass. C’mon, Green.” I hitch my thumb over my shoulder. “Let’s get warm and have some hot chocolate and cookies.”
Forty-five minutes later, we’re both dry. Amelia offered me clothes before she popped into the shower, and I’m making the athletic shorts work. They come up to the tops of my thighs, but I’m warmer than I was before.
“I still can’t feel my hands.” Amelia appears in the living room. She’s holding two steaming mugs I’m guessing are full of hot chocolate. “Do you think I have frostbite?”
“You might. Come here so I can check you out.”
“Let me set these down so I don’t ruin the rug.” She walks over to me, her posture relaxed, her clothes loose and comfortable. “There’s a good chance I’ll spill.”
“We wouldn’t want that. It’s a nice rug.” I take the cups from her and set them on the coffee table. I uncurl her fingers and flip her hands over. “All right. Time to diagnose you.”
“When did you become a doctor?”
“I wanted to go to medical school, remember?” I study her lifelines and the ridges of her knuckles. “I took pre-med courses at FSU, and frostbite was one of the things we covered.”
“Really?” Amelia scoots closer. “Give me some of the signs.”
“Did you know there are different stages of frostbite? Frostnip is first. It makes your skin red. You feel cold, then numb.” I brush my thumb over her painted fingernails, glad to find her perfectly healthy. “That’s stage one.”
“And stage two?”
“Mild frostbite. There’s a change in skin color. Your skin starts to feel warm.” My voice cracks. Her presence is utterly distracting. “Stinging or swelling. There might be blisters.”
“That doesn’t sound very good.”
“No. It’s not. The worst stage is deep frostbite. It starts impacting the tissue below the skin, which can turn white or almost gray. Blisters would appear after twenty-four hours.”
“What do you think, doc?” She tips her chin to look at me. I’m still holding her hand, trailing over every line and bump on her fingers. “Am I going to be okay?”
She is going to be okay, but I’m not sure I am.
I’m always useless when I’m close to her, and right now is no different.
I want to kiss each of her fingers. I want to wrap her hair around my wrist. I want to relax and let her get comfortable between my legs with her head on my chest.
“Yeah,” I croak, and my eyes lock on hers. “But let’s put a blanket around you to be safe.”
I reach for the one I used earlier. I shift forward and drape it over her shoulders. Amelia smiles and folds her hand over mine, keeping the blanket in place while a sigh of relief loosens from her chest.
“You’re a guest in my house. I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” she says.
“This is good practice for my bedside manner.” I touch her forehead then bring my fingers down to her jaw. “Are you warm enough?”
“Very warm.” Her voice is barely above a whisper. “Thank you for checking on me.”
“Happy to help.” I lean back and ignore the obnoxious thud of my heart.
I also want to help by pulling her in my lap.
By warming her up with my hands and my mouth, but I settle on giving her shoulder a squeeze.
I’m a goddamn gentleman. “Should we put on a movie? What’s your favorite television show? ”
“I’m obsessed with this reality dating show where women put the male contestants through obstacle courses and athletic challenges. Someone gets voted off each week. It’s amazing.”
“Women do run the world,” I agree. “Would you ever do something like that?”
“What?” Amelia laughs. “Showcase my personal life on national television so people can sit behind their screens and call me a slut if I sleep with someone or a prude if I don’t? No, thanks. I’ll stick to real life and pretending that I work in marketing when I meet a guy.”
“Wait a second. You lie about your job when you meet someone?”
“Come on, Grant.” She stretches her legs so they rest in my lap. “You remember the conversation you overheard the first night we met.”
“That was years ago. That kind of shit still happens?”
“Less frequently as of late, but that’s probably because I haven’t been on a dating app in months.” She clears her throat. “It used to.”
Amelia isn’t mine, but it’s comforting to know she’s not on dating apps and trying to find a guy worthy of her attention. It gives me the delusional hope that I can be that guy for her somewhere down the road, and I drum my fingers on her leg.
“They all suck,” I say, and she huffs out a laugh. “Don’t you ever settle for a guy who complains about how many women are in a sports league, Amelia Green.”
“I never will.” Her stomach rumbles, and I grin. “Sorry. I guess I’m hungry, and I don’t think the cookies are going to cut it after kicking your ass outside.”
“Always keeping me humble.” I pat her knee. “Do you have anything in the fridge?”
“There’s pizza in the freezer. Sounds like the perfect snow day snack.”
“I’m afraid to ask what kind of weird toppings are going to be on it.”
“Do you consider anchovies weird?”