ICED: Boston Terriers Hockey #2

by Chance, Jacob

  “You had me at cheering you on. It’s the least I could do. The pizza’s a nice bonus, though.”

  His lips twitch with a hint of a smile. “Fair enough. One hockey game followed by pizza and drinks.”

  That almost sounds like a date. There I go wishful thinking again.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Oliver

  My eyes sweep up to the digital numbers on the game clock. Thirty seconds are left and we’re tied, two all. Marshall faces off with one of the Huskies and comes away with the puck. The crowd goes wild, cheering and stomping their feet. Marshall doesn’t have a shot, so he sweeps the puck to me. I get tangled up at the boards with one of our opponents, but break free unexpectedly. That extra second is all I need to take a shot. The puck beams past the goalie, hitting the backside of the net. Score.

  I’m immediately swallowed up by my teammates in celebration. The roar of the audience is indescribably loud, shouting, “You got, Iced, Iced, baby.” I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything comparable, except maybe when we won the Beanpot last year. But those cheers weren’t directed at me like these are.

  I’m not some hockey superstar. I’m just a guy who loves the game and gives it his all. Standing here soaking in their approval has me overwhelmed with gratitude.

  Glancing up at the stands, I search for Ava in the sea of red and white clothed Terrier fans and find her jumping up and down along with Perri. Seeing her and how excited she is makes it even better. Nolan stands beside Perri shouting and pumping his fist. My chest tightens with emotion when I notice Ava’s wearing my shirt. And another part of me wants to react when I take in how well it fits her. But I can’t think about that right now.

  Closing my eyes, I bask in the celebration, absorbing the sound of them chanting my name. I’m a lucky man. How many people get moments like this in their lives? This is something I’ll never forget.

  “Come on, man.” Shaw cuffs me on the side of my helmet and my eyes snap open. “We’ve got some celebrating to do.”

  I grin. “What did you say? First beer’s on you?”

  “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

  * * *

  After the game, some of my teammates and I head to C’s Pub where I’ve already arranged to meet up with Ava. The inside is dimly lit and it takes me a bit to find her in the large crowd of patrons. This is a popular spot after games, especially when we win.

  I methodically weave in and out of the crowd amid a stream of backslaps and high fives. People I don’t know shout out “great game” and other compliments. I must admit, I feel like a hero under all this adulation.

  “Hey,” I call out when I finally reach the table where Ava, Perri, and Nolan are seated.

  “Great game.” Ava jumps up to hug me. Wrapping my arms tight around her, I hold her close. It’s been almost a week since I held her in my arms. Much too long, and not long enough at the same time. If that even makes sense. But that’s where I’m at, existing in a constant state of wanting her and convincing myself I can’t have her.

  I’m treading dangerously by spending more time in her company. If I were smart I’d distance myself as much as possible instead of playing with fire. Reluctantly, I release her, but not before breathing in the clean scent of her hair like some desperate creeper.

  Nolan steps forward with a knowing smirk on his face. There isn’t a guy alive who hasn’t been tied in knots about some girl he shouldn’t be. Nolan is no exception. He and Perri were once off-limits too.

  “Great game.” He holds his fist out for a bump.

  “Thanks, man. I appreciate you going. I know you guys have a football game tomorrow. You should get home and get some rest.”

  “Don’t worry, we’re leaving,” Perri cuts in. “We didn’t want to leave Ava alone here. Every guy in the place has been looking at her.”

  “Pfft, that’s not true.” Ava shakes her head.

  “Is too. Awesome goal by the way.” Perri holds her hand up and I slap my palm to hers.

  “Thanks. It’s so cool that you all came to cheer us on. I appreciate it.”

  “I love hockey,” Perri states.

  “Since when?” Nolan raises a brow.

  “Since I went to the last game with Ava.”

  “Football’s your sport,” he growls, and Perri pats him on the arm.

  “Calm down. I still love watching you best.”

  “You better.” He slaps her ass.

  “And on that note, we’re leaving.” Perri winks. “You can make sure my girl, Ava, gets home safely, right?”

  “Of course,” I agree. “I’ll deliver her right to her door.”

  Perri points at me. “You better.”

  “Uh, hello. I’m a grown woman who doesn’t need a babysitter,” Ava huffs, annoyed.

  “You can’t be too safe.” Perri pulls her into a hug. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow night.”

  Ava nods. “Okay.”

  We settle at the table and Donovan, Shaw, and Marshall join us. They bring a round of shots, setting ours down in front of us.

  “What is this?” Ava questions, picking up the small glass and staring at the golden liquid.

  “Whiskey. If you don’t want yours I’ll take it,” Donovan replies.

  “I never said I didn’t want it,” she says, surprising me. I didn’t take her for a whiskey drinker. “Thank you. It’s nice of you to include me.”

  Donovan shrugs. “You’re hot. Why wouldn’t I buy you a drink?”

  Ava snorts. “You’re honesty is kind of endearing.”

  Donovan quirks one side of his mouth up, showing a dimple. “What can I say? My mom always told me honesty is the best policy.”

  “Are we going to do these shots or what? We’re supposed to be celebrating.” Marshall’s impatience shows.

  “Slow your roll, dude. We’ve got a special guest with us.” I gesture to Ava. “Tonight she came to cheer us on at my request. Let’s toast to Ava and being our good luck charm.”

  “To Ava,” we chorus, clinking our glasses together and knocking back our shots. Ava covers her mouth with her palm and her eyes water when she swallows.

  “Is this your first shot?” I grin.

  “No. It’s my first shot of whiskey, though.”

  I wrap my arm around her shoulders. “You did well.”

  Her face turns toward mine. “Thanks.” She’s close enough for me to smell the alcohol on her breath. What would it taste like on her lips? On her tongue?

  It takes every bit of my will to resist closing the distance between us to find out. I haven’t been able to erase the memory of our kisses. It would be amazing to become reacquainted with her lips. Amazing and dangerous for me.

  If I allow whatever this is between us to progress any further, I can kiss my no relationship plans goodbye. I already feel more for Ava than I want to admit to myself. Stacey fucked me up for a long time and I can’t afford to take the chance that things between Ava and I wouldn’t work out. There are no guarantees with any relationship.

  I let my arm slip from her shoulders and rap the table with my knuckles. “How about another round of shots?”

  “What happened to the pizza you promised me?” Ava pokes my bicep. “Some ice water would be nice too if you’re going to keep making me drink whiskey.”

  “I don’t remember making you drink that shot, tiny dancer.”

  “What did you call me?”

  “Tiny dancer. You know, like the song. It seems appropriate.” She’s always with me; even when I try not to think about her, she slips into my thoughts.

  She smiles. “That’s kind of sweet, I think.”

  “It’s a great song.” I downplay the meaning. I never should’ve called her that, but now that I have, it’s a perfect fit. She doesn’t need to know I relate to the lyrics on a personal level. “So let’s get back to how you’re not responsible for drinking that shot.”

  She shrugs. “It’s pretty clear cut. I caved under the peer pressure. Four handsome hockey players t
oasting me. How was I supposed to say no to that?”

  “I am handsome, aren’t I?” Donovan beams.

  “I think she meant me,” Marshall jumps in.

  “You guys must’ve hit your heads during the game. Everyone knows chicks dig goalies best,” Shaw states.

  I tap Ava on the tip of her nose with my index finger. “I just want to point out how we toasted you as our lucky charm. You know what that means, right?” She shakes her head, eyes opened wide enough to show the whites around the stunning green of her irises. “You have to come to every home game now,” I inform.

  “No way.” She aims a wary look my way. “That’s not what it means.”

  “Sure it is. Right, guys?” I glance at my teammates and they all nod in agreement.

  Shaw points at Ava. “You can’t skip any home games. If you do, we might lose, and it will be on you.”

  “What? That’s crazy.” Ava’s voice gets higher as she panics. “This isn’t fair. You guys are being ridiculous.”

  I nudge her arm with mine. “Just accept it as fact, tiny dancer. You don’t want to disappoint all four of us, do you?”

  She directs her gaze at me before moving on to each of my friends. “Fine. But if you guys lose a game while I’m there, I don’t want to hear a single word of complaint.”

  My lips part in a wide smile. “Deal.” I hold my hand out and she slides her palm across mine and we shake on it. An image of us kissing on the beach snakes into my mind and I want to tug her forward and crash our lips together. To hell with the hundreds of witnesses who would see. None of that matters when I want her so much.

  Instead, I grit my teeth and release her hand. Raising my arm, I signal for the waitress. She hurries over.

  “What can I get you?”

  “Four large pizzas and a pitcher of beer to start.” Maybe if I distract myself with good food and drink it will take my mind off the tempting as fuck brunette beside me.

  * * *

  I sweep the back of my knuckles down Ava’s cheek. “Wake up, tiny dancer. You’re home.”

  Her long-lashed lids flutter and raise. She looks at me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I think those last two shots hit you hard. That nap probably helped to sober you up some.” I slide from the car and head around to open Ava’s door. I hold a hand out to assist her.

  “I feel fine.” She grips on to me. Once she’s on her feet, she rocks back and forth. I catch hold of her shoulders, steadying her.

  “Easy does it, tiny dancer. Let’s get you inside.” Her gait is unsteady as we enter the building. “I’m carrying you up the stairs. Hop on.” She holds her arms up to me instead of jumping on my back like I planned.

  Shit. I scoop her up and she wraps her legs around my hips. Draping her arms around my neck, she lays her head on my shoulder so trustingly, my chest tightens. Her warm, soft breaths wafting over my neck and her strong thighs squeezing my hips have my cock reacting. No matter how much I try to distract myself from the feeling of her wrapped around me, there’s no way I can. She’s all I’m cognizant of. Her soft lips pressed to my skin. Long, silk-like hair trailing over my chest. Her soft perfume wafting up to tease my nose. How much can one man stand?

  I’m reaching my breaking point by the time we reach her door. I brace her weight against the steel surface. “Where are your keys?”

  “Why don’t you want to kiss me?” she whispers.

  “I never said I didn’t want to kiss you.”

  “But you haven’t even tried to.”

  Leaning my arms on either side of her head, I frame her face with my hands. “I want to kiss you more than anything.”

  “What are you waiting for?” Her green eyes stare up at me pleadingly. How can I refuse her anything?

  Chest to chest, I lean forward. Ava exhales a relieved sigh, turning her face up toward mine. She moans when my lips move gently over hers and gasps when my tongue slips inside the pillowy softness to graze hers.

  Ava’s fingers clutch my head, threading through my hair, tugging on the strands. Her touch has my restraint hanging by a single thread. I want to strip every piece of clothing from her mouthwatering body and devour her. But she’s had more to drink than she should’ve and I won’t take advantage of it.

  I tear my mouth from hers and press our foreheads together. “We need to stop.” I shouldn’t have kissed her again. Each time is better than the previous. Each time it’s harder to stop.

  “Why?”

  “Because you’ve been drinking.”

  “I’m not drunk.” Her breath whispers over my lips, tempting me to kiss her again.

  Clenching my teeth together, I force myself to say words I don’t want to, but need to. “It shouldn’t have happened. We’re friends. I don’t want to screw that up.”

  “Oh,” she replies, and I can hear the disappointment in her tone.

  Straightening up to my full height, I set Ava down on her feet. “Do you have your keys?”

  Her hand goes to the front pocket on her jeans. Tugging them free, she jingles and swings them around her finger before turning her back to me. Unlocking the door, she steps inside and pivots, blocking the space. “Thanks for the pizza and shots.”

  “You don’t need to thank me. It was fun. Thank you for coming to the game. It was great knowing you were there.”

  “Anything for a friend,” she throws my words back at me and smiles close lipped.

  I know she’s angry, but she needs to realize I did us both a favor. Maybe someday she will.

  “Lock up. I’ll see you soon.”

  She wordlessly closes the door, leaving me staring at the white surface. I run a hand through my hair with frustration. I’m trying to be a good guy here. Why can’t she see that?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ava

  I haven’t seen Oliver since Friday night and I don’t want to see him anytime soon. Unfortunately, we’re both scheduled to work tonight. I’m going to do my job and get out of here as quickly as I can. I have one more routine to dance and I’m filled with nervous energy. Typically, I don’t get anxious before a performance, but there’s something about knowing Oliver is watching me that makes my legs feel like rubber. Will they support me or give out in the middle of my dancing?

  I guess I’m about to find out.

  Walking to the middle of the stage, I wait for the music to begin and do my best to calm myself. Panicking won’t help. This is an Irish step dancing jig to one of my favorite songs from Riverdance and it takes every bit of my energy and focus.

  I love the sounds the fiddle, Irish flute, uilleann pipes, tin whistle, bodhran, and the Celtic harp make when combined. Closing my eyes, I allow the music to block out all the bad noise in my head. It’s just me on this stage doing what I love most. My eyes snap open and I’m ready to go.

  My legs are a flurry of movement as I hop around the wooden surface. With my arms by my sides you’d think all my focus would be on my lower body, but that’s not the case. It takes extreme concentration to hold your arms so rigid and still.

  The performance passes in a flash, as my best ones always do. A roar of approval assaults my ears while I take a bow at the front of the stage. My eyes automatically glide over to the bar area. Oliver’s leaning his muscular forearms on the glossed wood and his eyes are locked on me. A thrill rushes through my stomach as a series of flutters and I quickly look away. Smiling toward the large audience one final time, I make my way off the side of the stage.

  I wish Perri were here tonight to provide a distraction from the dark eyed asshole at the bar. But he’s not really an asshole and that makes it harder. At least if he wasn’t a great guy, I could think ill of him and be done with it. But deep down I know he was trying to do the right thing the other night by walking away from me.

  My pride was wounded and the whiskey shots I consumed didn’t help me think rationally. There’s a reason why I don’t usually have more than one drink.
And I usually avoid hard liquor at all costs. That is until a mischievous pair of chocolate brown eyes worked their magic on me and I found myself agreeing to do something I shouldn’t have. I won’t blame Oliver, though. I’m an adult and own every mistake I make. Whiskey shots are the least of what he could’ve gotten me to agree to that night.

  I hurry to the dressing room and change in record time. I want to get out of here. No, I need to leave before I do something stupid like seek out Oliver. I’m not ready to be face-to-face with him. However, I’m also not ready to not be on speaking terms with him. It feels wrong to pretend he’s not here. If we’re friends shouldn’t I go say hi?

  Leaving the dressing room, I hesitate, leaning my shoulder against the cement wall. I groan and cover my face. I’m so conflicted about what to do.

  “Hey. Are you okay?”

  Fuck me. Of course Oliver would witness my moment of uncertainty. My hands slide down my face and I meet his concerned gaze. “I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure? Did you hurt yourself when you were dancing?”

  “No. Everything is fine.” Everything but my heart that is.

  “You were amazing tonight.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Why don’t you come have a drink and keep me company?”

  Why is he asking me this? Does he feel bad for me? “I’m going to pass. I’ve got a paper to write and I’m pretty tired.”

  He studies my face to see if I’m making an excuse or telling the truth. “I’ll see you soon.” If he can tell I’m lying he doesn’t let on. “I need to get back to work.”

  “Have a good night.” I raise my hand in a wave and watch him walk past me, moving down the long hallway. My eyes follow him until the door closes, cutting off my view. I want to shut off every emotion I feel when it comes to Oliver, but he’s become important to me. I find myself thinking about him during the day when I should be focusing on my schoolwork. And at night when I’m lying in bed, he’s on a continuous loop in my mind. I replay every moment we’ve spent together. I know forgetting about him would be the best thing for me to do, but how do I stay away from the one person I’ve wanted for so long?