Icing the Puck (New York Empires Book 2)

by Isabo Kelly

  Semenov growled. “You’re not going anywhere with her without me.”

  “Does he know?” Brody asked Nathalie without looking at his goalie.

  Her eyes narrowed again, and she pursed her lips. “Let’s find a more private spot.”

  He trailed her and Semenov to a quiet nook off the main living room area.

  “Tell me what you know,” Nathalie said when they were safely out of earshot of anyone else at the party.

  “Pyrokenesis? That’s what she’s been hiding.”

  Her brows rose. “You know the real word for it? That’s a good start. Tell me what happened.”

  He told her everything, because he needed her help. Because Ann turned to her for help.

  “Why do you want her at the game?”

  “I need to talk to her.”

  “If you call her out as Devil’s spawn I will kick your ass, Brody Evans.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Her mother. Her parents. Didn’t she tell you about them?”

  “A little. Only that they were religious nuts. What do they have to do with anything?”

  “That’s the reaction she was expecting from you.”

  “Why would I react that way? I’m not a religious nut.” Then he remembered. He’d crossed himself. A knee-jerk reaction he’d barely thought about, something from his youth. He only ever went to mass on Christmas these day, and didn’t really consider himself religious anymore. But he’d been raised Catholic, and some things had just been ingrained.

  “Fuck.” He ran a hand through his hair. “She got the wrong idea from my reaction.” But she should have known better. She should have known him better. She should have trusted him. He pushed aside the hurt. That wasn’t important now. “I really need to talk to her, Nathalie. Tomorrow. I can’t wait until after the game.”

  “You sure you can play like this?” Semenov asked.

  “Not all three periods.”

  “Why not see her tonight? Or before the game?” Nathalie asked.

  “She won’t answer my calls and she’s not at her apartment tonight. She’ll answer your call. And I won’t have time before the game because of all the media stuff. We need a minute of privacy. We can squeeze that in during the first period break. If you two will help.”

  She exchanged a look with Semenov, unspoken understanding moving between them.

  Finally, she said, “I’ll try. For her sake. And for the game.”

  He smiled a little at her last jab. “Can I ask you something?”

  She nodded.

  “Why did Ann come to you? Why did she think you could help her with the pyrokenesis?”

  Semenov drew himself up, as if ready to put an end to the conversation.

  Nathalie waved him away. “My mother called me Devil’s spawn before leaving me and my father. She told Ann that my father and I were minions of the Devil. Who better to go to when you have a fire ‘curse’?”

  “You don’t believe in that devil,” he commented.

  He hadn’t wanted to intrude on her privacy, so he’d never come out and asked her about her religion. But his curiosity hoped she’d discuss it with him one day because he was fascinated by it and the differences between being a green witch and a Wiccan.

  “No,” she said, “but Ann didn’t know that before we met.”

  “You were able to help her, though. You understood what was happening?”

  “She’s got a lot better control now. She’ll need more training, but she’s going to be fine.”

  He didn’t miss how she’d sidestepped actually answering his question. “You’d make a good politician,” he said.

  She snorted a laugh.

  “You’ll make sure Ann is there tomorrow?” He didn’t even try to hide his desperation.

  “Are you breaking up with her or fixing things?”

  “I’m hoping to fix things. I love her.”

  “Even with this talent of hers?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then I’ll make sure she’s there.”

  Ignoring Semenov, he snatched Nathalie up in a big hug. “Thank you.” He set her on her feet and grinned at Semenov’s scowl. “Don’t stay up too late,” he told his goalie, just to irritate him more, then he left the party.

  He had some planning to do.

  Chapter Seventeen

  New York City hosted the Winter Classic at the Queens Bank Stadium. The place was a huge, open-air baseball stadium with lots of room to walk on the field level and a friendly, eager vibe as the hockey fans flowed in through the gates.

  Ann hadn’t been here before, since she’d never gone to any sporting events before meeting Brody. She wasn’t entirely sure why she was here now, except that Nathalie had insisted. She owed her sister too much to refuse. Still, being around the crowds of enthusiastic fans reminded her too sharply of the last hockey game she’d attended and the chair armrest she’d melted.

  Nathalie took her arm as they went up the escalator to the field level from the main rotunda. “Stop fretting. I’m here with you this time. You’ll be fine.”

  Ann forced a smile. As they pushed through the crowds to their seats—a section near the ice reserved for the teams’ family and special guests—she gripped Nathalie’s arm tighter.

  “Why does he want to see me?” Ann asked. Again.

  “To talk. I’m not saying any more than that because it’s between you guys to settle this.”

  “You should have seen his face. I can’t take him looking at me like my parents would.”

  “He won’t. I already told him I’ll kick his ass if he tries.”

  “He’s almost a foot taller than you and regularly gets into fist fights on the ice,” Ann pointed out.

  “Ha. I’d still kick his ass. He knows it, too.”

  Ann grinned.

  They settled in their seats just as the two teams hit the ice to warm up. She couldn’t help looking out for Brody, both dreading and hoping for the moment he’d look up into the stands and see her. But he didn’t look their direction. He was all focus and attention, stretching, practicing shots, and running through drills.

  She tried to convince herself the fact that he wanted to talk to her was a good thing, that he hadn’t brought her all this way just to tell her they couldn’t see each other anymore. Why bother? Hope and fear thrummed through her blood, making her pulse pound a little too hard. She focused on calming her nerves, keeping her control. Having Nathalie next to her helped.

  When the first period began, despite herself, her stomach tightened with dread and expectation. She could barely watch the game, her every nerve anticipating her meeting with Brody.

  As the clock ticked down and the buzzer sounded, Nathalie stood. “Come on. You two won’t have much time.”

  She let Nathalie lead the way, as they took the stairs down to the ground level, flashed their passes at a guard, and were let in through a locked door to the sub-level where the locker rooms and media rooms were located. Ann stared at the milling crowds in horror. How would she and Brody talk with reporters everywhere?

  “Why here and now?” she hissed at Nathalie.

  “Because he insisted. Come on, Alex said there’s a place around the corner here…”

  They made their way to what looked like an equipment storage room, stacked neatly with baseball bats, bases and other things Ann couldn’t identify but which she presumed had something to do with the stadium’s usual purpose as a baseball field.

  Nathalie waved her in, said, “Good luck.” Then walked out, closing the door behind her.

  Ann blinked, alone in the room full of sports equipment, not sure what to do now. She wasn’t even sure how to get back to her seat if Nathalie didn’t return.

  A little bubble of panic swelled in her stomach. She practiced her breathing, working at calming her nerves, and tried hard not to think about her reasons for being here.

  The door opened a minute later, and Brody, in full gear, stepped inside, clo
sing the metal door behind him with a quiet clang.

  “I can’t stay long,” he said, not coming any farther into the room. “The break goes faster than you’d expect.”

  “That’s fine.”

  “I needed to see you.”

  “Isn’t that uncomfortable?” She gestured to his skates. They had blade covers on them but still weren’t designed for walking on concrete.

  “It’s fine. Takes too long to lace up again if I take them off.”

  They fell silent for a moment, Ann not sure what to say.

  “So,” Brody said into the tension. “You’re a firestarter. That’s why all the running away?”

  She bit the inside of her cheek but nodded.

  “Were you ever going to tell me? If I hadn’t pushed, would you have admitted the truth to me eventually?”

  “Maybe. I’m not sure. I wanted to, but…”

  “Your family.”

  “Nathalie explained?”

  “A little.”

  She shrugged. “It’s a curse I’ve lived with my whole life,” she said, finding a kind of relief in admitting this to him out loud. “I shut down my emotions so I wouldn’t lose control of it. But that wasn’t working anymore. Nathalie has helped me gain real control, though. I…probably won’t burn things down now.”

  “Probably?”

  “I’m still learning.”

  “Is that why that game, my fight upset you so much?”

  “A lot of emotion can still be difficult for me.”

  “That’s why you put off sex for so long?”

  Her cheeks heated. “I was afraid I’d hurt you,” she murmured.

  “Have you ever hurt anyone with the fire?”

  “No. Well, almost a few times. But no. I’ve damaged things, though.”

  “That first date, when you ran from the restaurant…?”

  “I was losing control. I made my water boil.”

  “Why were you losing control?”

  “Because you made me feel. You made me forget not to.”

  He took one step closer, then stilled, balanced expertly on his blades. “Now?”

  “Now what?”

  “You can deal with emotions now?”

  “Mostly. My hands are a little warm right now.”

  “I’m not sure whether to consider that a good thing or not.”

  “As long as I don’t set a baseball bat on fire, you could consider it good. I’m in control right now, Brody, but I’m also…emotional.”

  “How emotional?”

  “I’m not sure how to answer that.”

  He stared at her, his gorgeous face still and impossible for her to read. He’d kept his tone neutral, though his voice was deeper than usual. She had no idea what he was thinking or how he felt, and it left her edgy. She didn’t fidget, she didn’t dare touch anything at the moment, but she did have to concentrate on breathing normally and keeping her pulse as even as possible.

  “You don’t trust me,” he said quietly.

  “What?”

  “You weren’t going to tell me about the pyrokenesis because you don’t trust me to be different from your parents.”

  “No, that’s not it.” But it was, and they both knew it.

  “You thought I’d react the way they would. You didn’t trust me to handle it. Thought I’d just throw away what we have because of this.”

  She glanced away. “You did cross yourself.”

  “A knee-jerk Catholic reaction that had nothing to do with how I felt about your talent.”

  “Curse.”

  “Talent,” he hissed, emotion finally working its way into his voice. Emotion that sounded and felt a lot like anger. “After everything, I can’t believe you’d think that of me. I can’t believe you wouldn’t trust me.”

  “That’s what you’re upset about? I can turn my hand into a ball of flames, and you’re worried about whether I trust you or not?”

  “Of course. I love you, and you think I’m some sort of ignorant fanatic. How the hell else am I supposed to feel?”

  Hearing him say he loved her took her breath for a moment, and she had to blink a few times before she could ask, “The fire doesn’t…doesn’t scare you?”

  “Damn it, Ann. I thought you knew me better than that. I told you I read everything.”

  “About pyronkenesis?”

  “And psychics and ghosts and ESP and everything.”

  “But you don’t believe in all that stuff, do you?”

  “I maintain an open mind to all possibilities. And I resent that you’d clump me in with close-minded numskulls like your parents.”

  She swallowed hard and let out a slow breath. She hadn’t even considered that. She did trust Brody. But she’d been too afraid to look past her own knee-jerk reactions.

  “I’m sorry, Brody,” she said. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before you forced it out of me. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you to understand. But understanding of something like this isn’t really part of my experience—outside of Nathalie and her family.”

  He raised his brows a little and nodded, but he wouldn’t meet her gaze.

  “Can you forgive me? Can you give me a chance?” She took a step closer. “Can you trust me?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I love you, too. If that helps.”

  He scowled. “That’s playing dirty.”

  She smiled. “Please, Brody. I’d like the chance to earn your trust.” She closed the space between them. Because of his protective gear, she couldn’t get as close as she wanted, and his skates made him even taller. She laid her hands on his chest and eased as near as she could. “Please, Brody.”

  His scowl was fierce. “Damn it. I haven’t been able to resist you since the moment we bumped into each other at the physical therapy center.”

  The tension in her stomach finally started to ease as he wrapped his arms around her. The position felt clunky and a little uncomfortable against all the hard protective gear, but she didn’t care. Just having his arms around her was glorious. The only place she wanted to be.

  “I had Nathalie bring you here,” he said, “because I wanted to make things right between us. I don’t want to lose you. And I don’t want you to be afraid of telling me anything.”

  She sighed. “I’d like that, too.”

  “I want you to trust me.”

  She nodded.

  “You really can, you know.”

  “I’m figuring that out.”

  “About damned time.” He shook his head. “You drive me insane. And I love you.”

  She chuckled. “I love you.”

  He tugged her upward a little and she took the hint, climbing up onto the top of his skates so she’d be closer to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her stomach dancing with pleasure now. Then he kissed her soundly. She sighed into him, relieved and grateful to be here.

  “Will you show me how it works?” he asked, lifting his head and brushing a strand of hair that had escaped her hat back behind her ear. “How you do that thing with the fire on your hands?”

  “If you really want to see. I’m still learning how to start the fire on purpose and put it out again. But when we’re someplace without a lot volatile substances around, I’ll show you more.”

  He grinned, that familiar easygoing grin she loved so much, the expression that showed off his dimple and made her heart thump hard.

  “Can’t wait,” he said.

  He leaned down for another kiss just as someone pounded on the metal door. “Damn. That’s my signal. Gotta get back.” He still kissed her, quick and hard, before releasing her. “Can I meet you at your place tonight? We have some making up to do.”

  Her nerves danced, giddy with anticipation and desire. The look in his eyes promised she’d enjoy making up with him.

  “See you when you can get there,” she said, waving him off as he hurried back to do his job.

  Just as she started to leave, though, he popped back into the room. “By the
way,” he said, “I love you.”

  He didn’t give her a chance to say it back before hurrying away, but the parting declaration left her grinning like a fool all the way back to her seat.

  The Empires won the Classic. And all of New York City celebrated with them. Ann enjoyed the festivities, knowing it would be ages before Brody could get away and meet her back at her place. The train ride from Queens to Brooklyn took a while, because she had to go all the way through Manhattan to get home, but the subway was packed with people celebrating the Classic win so she didn’t mind the ride.

  Brody knocked on her door later that night, back in street clothes, looking more handsome than ever, his eyes glowing with heat and fun.

  “Congratulations on the win,” she said, letting him in.

  She’d barely closed the door before he pulled her into his arms, kissing her hard and with such passion it took her breath away.

  She pulled back just enough to say, “By the way. I love you.”

  He grinned then kissed her again, walking her backward to her bedroom without breaking contact.

  They tumbled onto her bed, and Ann felt so right having him here. The hours of fear and heartache fell away, leaving such a profound relief, it left her dizzy.

  She rolled him onto his back and strip him out of his clothes slowly, savoring each inch of him, kissing and licking and enjoying every taste. He groaned when she took his cock into her mouth and she smiled, loving the sounds he made, the way he felt. She loved him. More than she’d ever hoped to love anyone. More than she thought she was capable of loving someone. And that filled her with joy.

  He was trembling when he pulled her back up his body for a kiss. With his hands in her hair, she held her close, all his own emotions right there in the press of his lips and the dance of his tongue. When he stripped her, when he explored her body with his mouth, she felt an acceptance she’d never experienced before. There was freedom in his touch, and so much emotion.

  “Mine,” he said when he slid into her, rocking his hips gently against hers. “You’re mine.”

  “You’re mine, too.” She cupped his face with her hands, holding his gaze as long as she could even as her body wound tighter. Then she finally had to closer her eyes, as her orgasm took her, but she carried the deep, harsh sound of his own orgasm over the edge with her.