Chapter Eight Within Reach
JULIAN
What the hell? Why’s she here on my ice? Why’s she in the fucking country?
My jaw has literally dropped, and I don’t move or say anything. I just continue watching her, stunned. She’s gorgeous, even in simple black leggings and a gray pullover sweatshirt.
Her deep chocolate-brown eyes are fixed on some invisible point ahead of her. She’s so focused, I doubt she has any idea that she’s being watched.
I’ve never seen her like this. She’s so in her element right now. So sure of herself and confident. She’s always been on the quieter side. Almost shy. In her defense, it’s hard not to be a little overwhelmed now and then by our group of friends. Still, I can’t look away.
A few moments later, she slows, gliding to a stop near center ice. As if she can finally sense she’s not alone, her gaze snaps to mine.
There’s a flicker of surprise before her expression shifts into an excited smile.
“Julian!” she exclaims, skating toward me.
I push off the boards and meet her halfway.
She throws herself into my arms, nearly knocking me off my feet as she hugs me.
I’m hit with the fresh smell of citrus and vanilla.
I hold her tight. She feels so small and delicate in my arms. Fuck.
It feels incredible to hold her. A part of me doesn’t want to let her go, but another part needs to know what is going on.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, my voice rougher than I mean for it to be. I set her back down on her feet, hold her shoulders, and gaze down at her with a furrowed brow. “I thought you were in England. We just texted yesterday, and you didn’t say anything about coming here.”
She just smiles more widely and spreads her arms, spinning in a circle.
“I transferred,” she exclaims. “I’m going to go to school here now. I wanted to surprise you!”
A sharp, unfamiliar flicker of something low in my gut catches me off guard, and I frown.
“Since when?”
“A few days ago,” she shrugs. “Still getting settled.”
“We’ve been talking,” I point out. “You didn’t think to mention that?”
Her nose wrinkles slightly. It’s small, cute, and distracting as hell. “I wanted to surprise everyone.”
I shake my head, a breath of disbelief slipping past my lips. “Unbelievable. How? I thought your dad was dead-set on you staying in England?”
Her eyes glint mischievously. “Let’s just say you and Skyler inspired me to work harder to…convince him.”
I blink. “Me? What the heck did I do?”
“Mmhmm.” She rocks back on her blades, completely at ease. She gazes up at me a moment, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You asked me why I was still there.”
It takes me a moment, but I remember asking her that. “Yeah, okay. How did that change things?”
“It made me finally ask myself the same thing.” She gazes up at me, her eyes shining with gratitude. Holy shit, I didn’t think my words would have such an impact.
The corner of my mouth twitches. There’s more to the story than that, I’m sure, but I let it go for the moment.
As my surprise starts to fade, all that really matters is that she’s here, staring up at me.
“Aren’t you happy to see me?” she asks, her voice softening with a layer of uncertainty.
I clear my throat, realizing I’ve just been gawking at her silently for way too long.
“Shit…yeah,” I nod. “Of course I am! I’m just shocked.”
She giggles. The sound shoots through me, straight to my cock, catching me totally off guard. The space between us starts to feel thicker.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Texting her and thinking about her is one thing, but having her right in front of me…it’s damn impossible to ignore just how gorgeous she is.
“Wilder.”
The voice cuts through the air, and it’s like a bucket of ice water gets dumped on my head.
I glance over to see Coach stepping onto the ice, arms crossed, frowning as he looks between Hadley and me.
Oh, fuck! Thank God the sheer fear of being caught by him talking to Hadley with an erection has totally gotten rid of that problem.
He glances between us, then smirks. “You look surprised.”
“Didn’t know she was back,” I admit. My throat feels dry, and my voice comes out as a croak.
“Well,” he declares, putting his hands on his hips and nodding, “her father finally came around. Let our girl come home.”
Our girl.
My girl.
Fuuuuck.
Hadley rolls her eyes at her grandpa’s words, but she’s still smiling.
Coach skates closer, clapping a hand against my shoulder. “What are you doing here this early?”
I shrug. “Couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d get a jump on things.”
“Overachiever,” he mutters. “Don’t burn yourself out before the season even starts.”
I nod. “Yes, sir.”
He huffs, then looks back at Hadley. “Good to have you home, kid. Good to see you on the ice already. We’ve got practice in an hour. We can grab lunch after if you want to.”
“That’d be great, Grandpa,” she replies.
Coach gives my shoulder one more pat before pushing off the ice again, leaving us alone.
“So,” I murmur, clearing my throat as I turn back to her. “You gonna kick me out, or…?”
She laughs. “I think we can share. There’s a lot of ice here.”
I grin. “Generous of you.”
She teasingly flips her hair over her shoulder. “I try. Do you mind the music?”
I pause and listen. When I realize she’s got Fall Out Boy playing over the speakers, I grin.
“Nice. You can’t beat their 2005 album. It’s got the real classics.”
She grins. “That album came out the year I was born.”
I nearly choke. “Jesus Christ, let’s just skate before you make me feel any more ancient.”
She laughs as I peel off and skate away from her.
We split the rink, each of us doing our own thing.
I push off first, carving a wide arc along the boards, letting my edges bite into the ice.
I run through the basics automatically. Tight turns, quick stops, and accelerating into short bursts down the length of the rink as I push a puck along with my stick.
I’m acutely aware that Hadley is so close by.
I dig in harder than necessary, forcing power into each stride.
My skates cut deep grooves into the ice as I shift my weight, test my edges, and push into controlled stops that send a spray of ice out in sharp arcs.
Easy stuff, but I can feel myself putting in more effort than I need to.
There’s a part of me that wants to impress Hadley, which is dumb and childish…
and I can’t stop myself from glancing toward her.
She’s moving across her half of the rink, arms extending out gracefully before pulling in. Her body tightens as she spins. It’s fast, but it doesn’t look rushed. Every movement is deliberate, practiced to the point of instinct.
She lands clean and transitions into another turn, her feet working in quick, precise patterns that I can’t even begin to follow.
Fuck…she’s impressive as hell. I knew she could skate, and I figured she had to be pretty good growing up in her family and being around the ice so much, but actually seeing her is kind of stunning.
Her cheeks are flushed, color high from exertion. There’s a slight shine of sweat along her temples. Her lips part as she exhales, steady but deeper than before, and her eyes…
Fuck.
Her deep brown gaze meets mine. The air rushes out of my lungs. I spin away, embarrassed as hell that I got caught staring at her again.
Get your head on straight, you motherfucker!
I force myself into another drill. My edges dig in deep, the sharp scrape echoing louder now as I throw my weight into each movement. I try to focus on anything other than her.
She’s off-limits. Off-limits!
I repeat those words in my head over and over again, but it’s not helping. Even over the music, I can’t help but hear her as she skates. I need something to distract me. Something more than a few drills I could do in my sleep.
The heavy clatter of skates and gruff voice suddenly echoes from the tunnel. I blink, the sharp sting of sweat in my eyes pulling me out of the trance I’d been in just five seconds ago, staring at Hadley from across the red line.
Her shoulders tense, her chocolate brown eyes darting toward the open bench gate.
Without a word, she executes a flawless, quiet transition, gliding toward the boards on the far side of the rink.
She slips out of the gate near the Zamboni entrance, disappearing behind the high plastic barrier to grab her water bottle and put some distance between us.
The heavy glass door swings open. The core of the Night Hawks’ defensive and offensive line spills onto the ice, fully geared up.
Jensen Reece steps out first. One of my closest friends and our captain, Jensen, joined the Night Hawks a year after I did, and he’s been steadying this locker room ever since.
He’s already rolling his wide shoulders, swinging his stick in a wide arc to stretch out his back, his close-trimmed beard frosted with his first deep exhale.
Right behind him is Carson Monroe, our goalie, and six feet of solid muscle. I still remember the day Carson joined the team. Jensen introduced us since they had gone to college together. Dark shaggy hair pokes out from his helmet. His piercing blue eyes are bright and alert.
Owen Scott comes next, towering and athletic, dragging a gloved hand through his dirty blonde hair as he squints through the glare of the rafters.
Out of everyone on the ice, I’ve known Owen the least amount of time, but after everything we’ve been through on and off the boards, he feels no less like family than the rest of the guys.