Chapter 3
THE ICE BETWEEN US
ELI
The tables at the Denver Metro Rink buzz with activity, with parents and children all around grabbing each piece of gear we’re distributing. Rookies on the team and some of our PR staff are helping size and hand out hockey gear to the kids, making sure everything fits.
“How are you doing today?” I call out, showing up with two of my teammates.
We sit at a table where all the kids come up asking for autographs on their gear.
I love children; they’re great. It’s the parents who fawn all over me; one even brought some old hockey cards of mine from college for me to sign.
“Damn, I haven’t seen these cards in forever. Look at my rookie face,” I laugh. All-in-all I’d say it’s a successful first event for my new foundation.
I change into my skates, and hit the ice right as the Zamboni finishes its rounds. I’m casual for this event in my jersey with two layers of henley and thermal wear, and jeans.
“Hey, Captain!” Sean shouts, skating past me like a lumbering turtle in all his full goalie gear, with his helmet on.
Mason isn’t too far behind him, dressed like me. “He took things to the next level.”
“Shut the fuck up. I’m giving the kids what they want,” Sean retorts.
“That’s right. Kids love to see a huge goalie and their scary designed mask.
” I grin because starting up this nonprofit has been a project of mine since I saw what Cam did in Las Vegas.
Sean and Mason both came on board to help me before our practice today.
It was easy to talk them into it considering they’re also two of my roommates.
A handful of photographers cluster near the boards, and a local TV news reporter stands by to interview me and some kids and parents as well. I take care of that first, then head back to the guys.
“Look at these youngsters. Jeez, dude, do you recall being that young, and getting started in hockey?” Sean shakes his head.
Mason, practically hockey royalty with a father, uncle, and older brothers who all played in Canada professionally, says, “I think I was born in skates.”
“My dad started me out in our yard, freezing it over in the winter, before I could even walk.” I hadn’t thought that far back in years.
I shake it off. My phone buzzes with a text and an attachment from my assistant.
RENAE: 19 kids today. Roster attached. Try not to swear in front of the kids. Also—good luck, Sir.
I snort.
ELI: Me and 19 kids? I’m in my element. What could go wrong?
RENAE: That’s what I’m fucking worried about, sir.
I grin at my phone, not that my virtual assistant can see.
One of the reasons I hired Renae was her penchant for swearing like a soldier—because she was in the Army, military police, narcotics division, now retired.
Honestly, her no-bullshit attitude kind of scares me, but she’s so damn good at her job as a virtual assistant.
I hardly look over the roster. Renae is the detail person, not me.
In front of the families, the team rookies demonstrate how to put the hockey gear on, and how to lace up the skates. When they finish, the group of boys and one girl are ready with their skates laced.
“Let’s split off with three kids each, and get them comfortable on the ice for today. This is just an introduction, all for fun,” I order. Between the rookies and Mason and Sean, we have enough people to go around.
Once we each have a team of kids, I skate over to mine and scan the group. “Hi everyone, I’m—”
“Eli Lewis! Captain of the Aspens.” One boy shouts and points like he might vibrate straight out of his skates, with dark hair sticking up everywhere, in an Aspens jersey several sizes too big. When our eyes meet, his whole face lights up. Was I that excited when I was younger?
“What are your names?” I ask.
The boy continues. “I’m Aiden. And you’re number six. Best defenseman in the league. You had seventeen blocked shots last game and two assists, and you totally wrecked Flynn Peterson from the LA Vipers when he tried to—”
“Whoa, Aiden.” I laugh. “You know your stats.” Bouncing on his skates, he might explode from excitement. He reminds me of myself at that age.
“I like hockey, Mr. Captain Lewis,” he grins.
“Just Eli is fine, okay?”
“Okay, Mr. Eli.” The kid is cute.
Timmy and Tessa rattle their names off next. They’re twins, and how cool is it to see a girl taking interest in the sport?
I get my group lined up on the ice with assistive bars, which helps them keep upright with something to hold on to. They can push these bars around as they work their feet and get used to gliding along on the blades.
“Now, let’s start off with basic skating.” I demonstrate, and the kids move around, taking my lead. Aiden follows me closely. He wobbles though, arms windmilling, but he’s laughing. Not scared, but happy.
“You’re gonna face plant a lot; that’s just how it goes until you’re used to it. That’s why we have you each wearing your new masks today,” I tell him, steadying him back on his feet. “Falling is only life teaching you how to get back up and shit.”
Aiden’s eyes grow big, and I wish I could take it back. “My mom has a swear jar. I have to pay twenty-five cents each time I swear.”
“Oh yeah? Your mom sounds smart, so you should always do what she says.”
“She is. She works really hard. Goes to school. Takes care of me and Grandma and—”
He crashes into my legs while looking up at me and talking. I catch him without thinking.
“Oops, falling again,” he giggles.
Then Tessa and Timmy follow suit, right into my legs.
I pretend I’m a tree, making noises and flailing my arms, like they’re cars crashing into me.
My group roars with fits of laughter. And just like that, we bond.
If this were an actual little team, I’d call us the Crashers. Too bad this is only a one-day event.
For thirty minutes, we work at getting the kids comfortable skating on the ice. And holy hell—Aiden is a natural. He trips, sure. But he gets back up every time. No whining or fear, just grit and determination.
“You’re doing great,” I say, my face splitting.
From across the rink, some of my other teammates call out, arriving for practice. “Captain is smiling! Someone get proof!”
“Put your cameras away,” I grumble at them.
Aiden beams at me. “The Aspens are so cool. I wanna be like you someday, Mr. Eli.”
Whoa. My heart fills with pride. When I planned this event, I knew it'd feel great to do some good, but this goes beyond expectations.
When our time is up, I'm not ready for this to be over.
Turns out, Aiden's mom is late picking up him and his grandmother.
I could grumble about people being inconsiderate with my time, but it's fine.
Gives me a few more one-on-one minutes on the ice with Aiden.
I show him some basic stick handling, letting him try to shoot a few pucks into the net.
Several minutes later, a woman rushes in. I notice her immediately, and my world grinds to a halt—it could crash into another dimension and I wouldn’t notice, because all I see is her.
From where I'm standing in the middle of the ice, Aiden's mom looks like a redheaded beauty I knew long ago. But damn, that's impossible—I blink away the thought.
“Mom!” Aiden waves frantically. “Look! I’m skating!”
“How fun, buddy,” she calls. Her voice is a slap shot to my chest, a blast from my distant past.
I squint. Stella? Why didn’t I look at the roster Renae sent more closely?
Aiden takes off toward her, and I follow suit, my body moving even though my brain is stuck. His mother starts in, apologizing, as he sits on the bench. She crouches to help him out of the skates.
“I'm so sorry I'm late. I thought I'd go get groceries really quickly, but it started raining and traffic was terrible getting back here and—” She finally glances up at me, doing a double take, and practically chokes on her words, her eyes as round as saucers.
“Fuck me. It is you,” I mutter. Stella… but she's older and tired-looking now, hair wildly curly.
She wears yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt and a scarf.
Some of the seams of her leather jacket are fraying, but she wears it anyway, like she can't stand to part with the old thing.
But, fuck, she's still beautiful… and I know exactly what she looks like and feels like underneath it all.
I've kissed those plump lips. I've watched her face as she came undone for me, riding on my cock, breathless and reckless—and once mine. And her mouth… yeah, that's the same mouth that told me we should break up, that we were two people with futures headed in different directions.
She was the college girl who landed in my life unexpectedly, made me believe in love, and then ripped my heart away without warning. Like a hurricane, hitting my shore, leaving a path of destruction behind her.
“Fuck, you’re really here,” I breathe.
Aiden gasps. “Mom, I told him about the swear jar. I told him. You don’t like swearing.”
“Guess I'll owe the swear jar,” I laugh nervously and scratch my neck with my glove.
My entire body shakes from seeing Stella again—from total excitement remembering everything that happened between us in our brief relationship during college.
Definitely everything between the sheets, too.
I almost groan, thankful my jersey hangs down low enough to hide my growing dick from the situation developing there.
Aiden laughs, too. “Don’t be mad, Mom. Mr. Eli is really cool. I just wish today didn’t have to end.”
“Mr. Eli?” She quirks a brow, finally speaking after staring at me like she’s seen a ghost, her face pale, hands clutching the skates so tight her knuckles are white.
“Stella.” Her name comes out rougher than I mean it to.
“I... I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“This is my foundation handing out gear today.” I don’t know what else to say. How do you talk to someone who forced themselves out of your life long ago? “Surprise.”