Chapter 2
TWO
LIAM
Bouch passes me the puck, but he’s outside my range. I reach out to catch it but disastrously fail. Turning my head, I watch as it flies right past me. I call out for a heads-up because I don’t know where this wild puck is headed.
As my gaze follows the puck, I wince before I get my butt in gear and skate as quickly as I can toward the edge of the rink where the puck is flying. I don’t make it. I’m not fast enough to beat it or to stop it from slamming right into a woman’s leg.
She is standing with a coffee in her hand, while carrying three bakery-style boxes. I watch in horror as her knees begin to buckle and she begins to crumple down. I can’t see any part of her other than her legs and her hands holding the boxes and coffee.
Instinctually, I reach out and wrap my fingers around her waist. I’m able to keep her body from hitting the ground—or worse, dropping whatever is in those bakery boxes. I have no doubt it’s something delicious. Being this close to her, I can smell the sugar.
The boxes don’t fall, but the coffee isn’t as lucky. It splashes against my jersey, drips down my pants, and the empty cup lands by my feet. Thankfully, it’s not hot coffee, although my jersey is going to be stained as shit.
I let out a hiss as the cold liquid soaks my pants. The woman lets out a cry, but the boxes stay intact. My fingers curl around her small waist, and my spine straightens—electricity sliding through my entire body, rushing from my fingertips up my arms, down my torso, and straight to my toes.
What the hell just happened?
Once she’s steady, I take a step backward, releasing her as quickly as possible. Flicking my gaze down, I look at my hands. I stare at them for a moment, wondering what the hell that was. They look the same as they did just before I touched her, but they sure as shit feel different.
“Oh my god,” a sweet voice cries.
“No injuries?” I ask.
“Huh?”
Lifting my head, I look up at her, or at least the boxes covering her face. “You okay?”
She doesn’t say anything immediately. I arch a brow, waiting for her response. That’s when she shifts her head around the boxes, and her eyes meet mine.
Holy shit.
A sudden shock zooms through me the moment our gazes connect. Hazel eyes search mine, full lips part in awe. I’ve never seen that color this close before. My breath hitches as sweat breaks out on the back of my neck.
She’s fucking beautiful.
“I’m fine,” she whispers.
Shifting my gaze from hers over to the boxes, my lips twitch into a smirk. “You saved the cupcakes. No casualties there.”
“Other than the coffee all over you,” she mutters. “I’m so sorry.” I watch as her cheeks tint bright pink, and my lips curve up into an even bigger smile at the sight.
“You can make it up to me.”
She blinks, then opens her mouth just as Bouch calls out from across the ice behind me. “Stop flirting with the cupcake girl and get the fuck back here.”
His tone is teasing, but he does want me to go back over and help him practice a certain shot he’s been working on. I promised him I’d help, but that was before Cupcake Girl appeared. I ignore him, at least for a moment.
“You need some help?” I ask, still ignoring Bouch.
“No, um, I can manage.”
She seems flustered, and her eyes widen as her lips part. Then she begins to speak, but before she can argue, I slip the boxes from her hands, turn around, and skate toward the table.