3. Abby
ABBY
It’s not often that I feel totally free.
Of stress.
Of worry.
Of intense concern for the people I love.
It’s been that way ever since I was diagnosed with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia at the age of ten and my entire world changed forever.
I’m grateful every single day for the second chance I’ve been given, but I never feel fully free of that past, and I’m a tiny bit risk-averse. Or maybe a lot, according to my best friend Sadie.
But gliding across the ice in the Mutts arena is truly exhilarating.
I’m not exactly going at the speed of a figure skater here, but with each slide I get bolder, and I’m going fast enough that my hair is flying backward over my shoulder and the cool air makes my eyes water.
I feel alive, and I love it.
Quite the difference from half an hour ago when I was wandering around the parking lot lost and fretting about letting my work team down.
I have two hot hockey players to thank for turning my day around.
Kane and Dash. Just their names make me shiver.
I can hear them talking to each other behind me, though I can’t hear what they’re saying.
It makes me too nervous to look because holy shit, they are both so sexy.
But in completely different ways.
And yet I am attracted to both of them.
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised by that because I think any woman would find them attractive, but I can’t say I’ve ever met two guys at the exact same time and felt a spark of…something with both of them.
There is the obvious fact that Kane is gorgeous, but it’s more than that. He made me feel instantly comfortable. Lost in the arena and admitting I didn't know much about hockey, he was sweet and reassuring.
The truth is that I don’t always know for certain when a guy is flirting with me.
Because I had cancer and treatment during what should have been my formative middle school years, I missed some crucial social steps. I spent more time in the hospital than I did learning how to read when a guy is interested in me, and that has definitely been a problem over the years.
But Kane is so obvious there is no misunderstanding his intention, and I like that.
He’s charming and funny with a great smile.
Then Dash walked up.
Dash is huge. Like the Beast to my Belle.
Growly and scowling and rough around the edges.
But then I looked into his eyes, and I saw nothing but kindness.
And maybe some of the same doubt and awkwardness that I feel from time to time.
Dash is not as classically handsome as Kane, but I feel a kinship with him—like we most likely enjoy the same things. Quiet nights at home and walks by the lake.
Immediately my next thought is that then we would have Kane to make sure we get out of the house and do something exciting once in a while.
Which is an insane thought.
How and why would it ever work like that?
“This is so fun!” I say to distract myself from the absolutely absurd direction my thoughts are suddenly running in.
I turn toward the guys, startled to see there is a third man with them.
My foot slips, but I manage to catch my balance.
“Abby, wait for me,” Kane says.
“Oh, I’m fi—” I start to say.
Then my legs splay out, and I drop my water bottle.
I hit the ice with a hard, teeth-rattling crunch and an involuntary cry.
Stunned, I sit there for a second, assessing the damage. I’m mostly startled, not actually injured.
Kane is suddenly in front of me, hands on my shoulders, rubbing them rapidly. “Are you okay? What hurts?”
“I’m okay, I just lost my footing.”
I did whack my tailbone, but I’m not going to mention my ass right now when there is this much testosterone crowding me.
Dash has slid on the ice—on his knees—up next to me. He instantly pops back up into a squat in a way that makes me understand why all the girls in college were constantly giggling about spending their weekends at the ‘boy aquarium’.
I may not know much about hockey, but I’ve seen the warm-up videos on social media. Hip thrusting for days.
I suddenly feel warm even though I’m sitting on the ice.
“Are you sure?” Dash asks me. “That was a hard landing.” His hands stretch out and brush off my thighs.
To what purpose, I’m not sure.
But my thighs seem to disappear beneath the massive sprawl of his enormous palms, and his touch is warm and heavy.
“I…” My mouth feels too dry to speak. I realize I’ve dropped my water bottle. It’s always an extension of my right hand, and now I see it has skittered across the ice.
Dash follows where my gaze drifts.
“Stop pawing at her and let her see if she can stand.”
It’s the third man who suddenly appeared on the ice.
This obviously isn’t a player.
My eyes drift up from his expensive, shiny leather shoes over a tailored suit to arms crossed over a toned chest, to a handsome face wearing a deep scowl.
Dash yanks his hands off of me as if he just realized he’s been touching me far too long to be appropriate for strangers.
“Shit,” he mutters under his breath. “Sorry.” Then he slides off to the right, still in a squat, retrieving my water bottle.
“Are you hurt?” the scowling man demands.
He says it like it damn well better not be true.
“I…” I repeat. I swallow hard as I stare up at him towering over me. If Kane is the charming knight and Dash is the misunderstood beast, this man is the king.
He’s in charge. That is very clear.
“Benj, stop. You’re scaring her,” Kane says.
Not scaring me so much as making me wish very much I could be a princess in a fairy tale with these three men.
“She needs to answer the question.”
Kane frowns up at the man. “You’re being a dick.”
“I’m being a lawyer. Specifically, the lawyer for the Willow Bay Mutts, whose ice she just fell on, which means I have a serious responsibility to this franchise and if—
“I’m not hurt!” I blurt out, wildly uncomfortable with what sounds like a lecture brewing. Directed at Kane or at me, I’m not sure. Maybe both of us.
The man stops speaking and blinks down at me. “You’re sure?”
I nod. “Very sure.”
“Excellent. Because I wouldn’t want my brother’s irresponsible behavior to in any way have caused you harm, Miss…”
“Johnson.”
This is Kane’s brother?
I can’t say I see any physical resemblance, but they do both have a ton of confidence. I glance over at Kane. He’s still scowling up at his brother, but he senses my stare.
The second his gaze turns to me, his eyes soften, and his frown smooths away. He gives me a reassuring smile. “Meet Benjamin,” he says. “My brother—who still thinks I’m fourteen.”
“I am Benjamin. For the record, I don’t think Kane is fourteen.” He gives a brief smile that transforms his face as he glances over at Kane with obvious affection. “Though he did barely graduate from high school.”
“Dude, why would you say that?” Dash says, obviously rushing in to defend Kane. “He broke his jaw spring of our senior year,” Dash tells me. “Missed a lot of days of school.”
Kane has risen to his feet.
“Exactly. You know that’s what I meant.” Benjamin holds his hands out to me. “Let me help you up.”
I’d honestly prefer it if Kane or Dash helped me off the ice because Benjamin is intimidating, but it would be rude to refuse his offer. Besides, I don’t want to add to the tension—if that’s what this is—between these three men.
“I’m Abby,” I say. “Just to one hundred percent confirm, no, I’m not injured. Kane and Dash were giving me a tour of the arena. I’m working on the Stick It To Cancer event.”
I don’t want Kane or Dash to get in trouble for showing me around. Not that we got very far. But it was thoughtful and generous of them and honestly, now I will have less anxiety showing up for my meeting tomorrow because of the time they took with me.
I also think I might want to take some skating lessons because being on the ice was a blast.
Putting my hands into Benjamin’s, I shift onto my knees.
His grip is firm, his body close. In the crisp cool air I swear I can feel heat radiating off of him.
Suddenly I realize I am very close to him.
On my knees. My hands are clasping his.
Only a foot away from his…
Heat blooms in my cheeks. My nipples tighten.
“Up, Abby.” Firm hands slip under my armpits, and Kane lifts me to my feet, keeping a hold on my sides so I don’t lose my balance again.
Benjamin doesn’t let go of my hands.
Dash is to my right. Kane is huddled up behind me. Benjamin is staring down at me, our hands still very much clasped for no reason and he seems much less intimidating now that I’m standing.
I’m suddenly very, very confused.
Am I attracted to Benjamin too?
What is going on? Does the cooling system at the Mutts arena have pheromones being pumped in?
Suddenly, I need to leave. This is bananas.
I yank my hands out of Benjamin’s and step to the left, my only exit route.
“Thank you so much for showing me around, Kane and Dash. I feel confident we’re going to put on a great event for both Stick It To Cancer and the Mutts,” I say, injecting as much professionalism into my voice as I possibly can.
I pat my pocket for my phone and my keys and then start to back off the ice, slowly. I eye Benjamin. “Just to confirm again, I’m absolutely uninjured, no need for legal concern, sir.”
He makes a sound in the back of his throat. It’s half-growl, half-groan. “Sir?” he asks.
Oh, boy.
That obviously didn’t sound the way I intended. I was going for respect, and he’s taken it as submissive.
Definitely time to get the hell out of there because I’m way in over my head.
I glance at my watch. “If I hurry, I’ll make the next bus.”
“Bus? Oh, no. We’ll give you a ride,” Kane says.
“No, no.” I’m backing away faster now, determined to get out of here with my clothes intact.
It feels like another five minutes, and I might be sent to the penalty box for punishment. Or maybe that is just a fantasy I never knew I had until right now with these three men.
“Abby, wait—” Dash starts to say, his hand coming out.
I collide with the wall. My already sore ass twinges. I try not to visibly wince.
Spinning around so my back is to them, I head through the opening to the back hallway.
Kane is right on my heels. “We’re happy to give you a ride.”