Epilogue
Sometime next season…
The ice was treacherous beneath my shoes as I took tentative steps forward. One foot in front of the other. Almost there. Breathe .
Pretending to ignore the ever-how-many-thousands of people watching me from the stands, I made my way to center ice. My knuckles clenched tightly around the microphone until it grew slick in my palm. Great, another thing to focus on in a million scattered bits and pieces.
Breathe.
It was all I needed to do until I reached my destination.
But once I reached it…
It’s for the kids , I reminded myself. For the kids .
It was family night at the arena, and KIST was one of the foundations doing demonstrations and outreach. When I wrangled the promotional spot doing a demo before the game, in my excitement, it slipped my mind that I would be the one out on the ice in front of a truly frightening number of people.
But Ash and the team did it all the time. If they did it a million times a season, I could survive at least once . Probably. Maybe.
Help .
I skidded to a stop right in the center, standing on the circle where the face-off…faced off. Bob the Announcer tapped his foot as I paused to take a breath. How did he get out here so much quicker than me? Without falling? At least I made it eventually.
Impatiently, Bob introduced me as a special guest. Blah blah, visitor from the university, blah blah outreach program. Okay, maybe not blah blah, but my brain was short circuiting enough to only hear something like every third word the man said.
Feedback whined through the arena as I stepped forward to take his place, and Bob shot me another irritated look. I would’ve flipped him off if several thousand people weren’t watching. Actually, I considered it anyway, but let it go.
“Hi there, Knights fans!” My voice wavered, sounding weird in such a large space.
My face, all blotchy and tense, splashing on the screen for thousands of people brought back memories of the first hockey game with Brad, and all the mortification bubbled up until I remembered why I was there.
I was finally doing what I wanted. What I wanted might have changed, but I was finally achieving something. And damn, what a feeling.
“And, er, Leafs fans, as well.” A pity laugh rippled through the crowd.
“I’m Olivia Barnes, and I’m here representing Portland State University.
” Of course, my voice cracked like a teenager’s right then.
“And I want to talk to you about science. Specifically, science and hockey.” I drew the last word out.
A few claps popped throughout the stands, bouncing like popping popcorn kernels.
Silence as the crowd waited when I took a few extra seconds to breathe. Metaphorical crickets hopped around my feet.
My breath caught in my throat as I inhaled, and the mic sent screeching feedback through the arena. “Will my assistant come out please?”
Ash skated in a swooping circle around me before coming to a stop at my side.
The ends of his hair were getting unruly again, like when we’d first met, peeking out from beneath his helmet in little black spikes.
The depth of his onyx eyes reflected the harsh lights of the stadium as he stood beside me, moving his feet back and forth but somehow staying in the same place.
Well. This wasn’t the plan. It was supposed to be Dante or Goldstein, not Ash. Maybe he wanted to distract me from the task at hand, but I didn’t have time to wonder about the switch.
“Right. Please welcome Ash Wilder, everybody!”
Ash’s welcoming applause was louder than mine by a mile, with signs flashing and a whole lot of wildness. With a casual wave of his gloved hand and a flash of the smirk I hated, the crowd grew to a frenzy.
As we went through the various explanations; aerodynamics, force, acceleration, I tried to catch Ash’s eye as he zipped past me, but he focused solely on the puck or the ice or his stick, unaware of my mounting anxiety.
Cold, deeper than the ice surrounding us, sank into my bones.
The familiar too-fast thumping of my heart began pounding in my chest, but I couldn’t lose it now .
I had to finish the demo. It was almost over; I had to hold out.
Once I made it off the ice, I’d be able to catch my breath and forget the eyes on me.
Then he was by my side again. “You should skate more, if you’re going to do this sort of thing often.” Ash’s grin was broad and genuine, if somewhat teasing. “I’ll teach you.” Tucking a glove under his arm, he gripped my hand, steadying and reassuring, as he helped me back toward the boards.
“Fuck you,” I muttered. “I love you but fuck you. And shut up, I’m trying to concentrate on not falling on my ass in front of all these people.”
“You’re the one doing most of the talking, Barnes. Besides, I told you a long time ago I wouldn’t let you fall. You think that’s going to change now?”
“Please don’t.” No matter how much I trusted him, there was still the chance I’d manage to knock us both down.
“Never.” He squeezed my hand, and we were back to stable ground.
My eyes nearly rolled back in relief, but I still had to get to my seat without passing out.
“Hey, Barnes, you forgot something.”
Turning, I patted my pockets to figure out what I’d left, but he was there , burying his hands in my hair, tipping my head back and kissing me so hard I forgot to breathe for a much better reason than the burgeoning panic rattling around my head.
And then he picked me up and we were spinning, just like the first time.
A very different roar came from the crowd as he set me down on solid ground, and I caught a glimpse of my own face, flushed and smiling, on the JumboTron. At least it wasn’t fucking Brad this time .
“Barnes.” Again, I turned, wondering what else he had to say. “I love you too.” With a devastating real smile, he sped back to join his teammates where they lined up for what was now one of their signature hype-up routines.
I remained near the side until the new routine was over, laughing as Dante skidded past on his knees, jazz hands waving for the big finish.
Ash’s leadership skills were really blossoming, and I was so proud .
Still, his cockiness remained for the most part, but it’d settled into a more serious confidence and gravitas I found dangerously attractive.
Polly sat in her box suite instead of her regular one, inviting me to join her and Ash’s cousin Ethan, his wife Ivy, and their two kids, Jase and Jana.
The genes in their family tree must have been very large and athletic, because Ethan was of a similar build to Ash, though leaner.
And scowlier. His wife was an energetic ball of sunshine, and I might’ve hated her for all the energy if she hadn’t been so damned nice .
Once we figured out we had similar careers, Ivy declared us best friends and future collaborators in KIST projects.
It was overwhelming until the game began and Ivy’s attention shifted.
Somewhere around halfway through the first period, Ash's helmet rammed into the boards with a sickening crash.
The sound made my breath escape in a cascade of anguish as all the possibilities ran through my head like a slideshow.
Polly gasped and grasped my hand at the impact, but Ash rose almost instantly, his shift over.
Roiling nausea followed his path every time he took to the ice again.
Two-thirds of the way through the third period, a fight broke out. They might be common, but it didn't stop me from clutching my cheeks as Ash joined the fray.
Something else quickly replaced the worry once I realized he was fine.
The asshole sank his teeth into the soft leather and foam of one of his gloves, ripping it off to toss aside.
Heat bloomed deep inside me as a visceral memory of his teeth closing over my nipple replaced the scene unfolding before me.
Or the way he liked to tear down the waistband of my underwear with his teeth before driving the flat of his tongue against my throbbing?—
"Come on, Ash, fuck that dude up! Yeah!" Ivy roared.
The slow-creeping lava burn of my horny brain combined with the need to reassure myself that Ash was truly fine was a heady, intoxicating thing.
“I know that look,” Ivy grinned and elbowed Ethan in the side.
Ethan grumbled and kept watching the game, sharing a trash-can sized bucket of popcorn with his daughter.
“Before Ethan retired… oof,” Ivy lowered her voice and wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “I get it.” She waved at the ice where Ash grinned while slamming his fist into some dude’s midsection.
The grin told me it was one of the less serious fights; the two men probably planned it beforehand. And—yep—the camera caught him winking as he skated to the penalty box.
Winking was supposed to be corny, not hot as hell, but it was like he knew I was watching.
Like when I’d told him without thinking how fascinating I found the hip stretches he did before games, and he’d found every excuse to do the ridiculous movement all the time, even at home. What an asshole , I thought fondly.
“Yeah, I’m just glad I missed the stretches this time.”
“Mmm yeah, it’s too bad I’m married, or hockey might be my new favorite sport.”
Ethan rolled his eyes and slung an arm over his wife, whispering something in her ear to turn Ivy’s freckled cheeks bright pink.
* * *
Outside the press room, I paced as I waited, trying to calm my racing heart. None of the previous games I'd attended had such an… impact.
Drumbeats of desire tinged with anxiety thrummed in my blood while I waited, the complicated mix of emotions simmering to a raging boil as the low timbre of his voice approached the door.
A snap of electricity curled along my senses with the intimate knowledge of the deep rumbling of his voice against my skin. Anticipation lay sweet on my tongue as I waited, and I nearly threw myself on the first person who walked out the door.