Page 24 of Expose on the Ice
And God, do I want to fight my way through it and get to the core of him.
CARTER
My skates cut through the ice with a crunch as I step onto the arena. The roar of the crowd fades to a dull hum as I focus on the game ahead. But even as I take my position for the face-off, I don’t feel right. The ice is usually my place of focus, where I can channel my anger and pain in one direction, and escape for a few hours.
But it doesn’t feel right. Not now.
I can’t shake the prickling sensation at the back of my neck. I glance towards the press box, my eyes locking onto Lily’s for asplit second. She’s scribbling furiously in that damn notebook of hers, probably dissecting my every move, the words flowing as easily as my sweat will be in a little while. The thought makes my blood boil.
She’s watching. Always watching.
I grit my teeth, trying to focus on the game ahead, but my mind keeps drifting back to that damn hotel corridor. To her piercing green eyes and sharp tongue, getting right up in my face. The way she’d called me out on staring at her…
Christ. I’d wanted to do more than that. I’d–
No. I shake my head, trying to clear the image. This is precisely what I don’t need right now. Back in my room, alone, frustrated, and yeah, turned on, I’d thought getting myself off would help clear my head. Instead, it had just complicated everything.
Because now, along with the anger and the fear of her digging too deep, there’s… attraction. This heat that I can’t quite shake. My fantasies had been vivid, to say the least. Us, pressed together. Her lips on mine, fierce and demanding. My hands in her hair, her curves, her everywhere. I–
The referee’s whistle pierces the air, and my thoughts, and I snap back to attention. As the puck drops, I channel all my frustration into my play. I’m a force of nature on the ice, my passes sharper, my shots more precise. But with each shift, each rush down the ice, I feel her eyes on me.
Damn it.
This is precisely what I’d been afraid of. She’s getting to me, and I know that’s exactly how she wants it. She’d changed tactics when I’d refused to open up to her, and I’d failed to adjust. But I need to focus. To remember why I’m here.
And why I can’t let her or anyone else get too close.
Sarah’s face flashes in my mind, and with it comes the familiar wave of guilt and pain. The accident, the cover-up,the lies… It’s all still there, just beneath the surface. And Lily, with her probing questions and her too-perceptive gaze, is threatening to crack that carefully constructed facade.
I can’t let that happen. No matter how attractive she is, no matter how much a part of me wants to give in to this… whatever it is between us. The stakes are too high. Lily might think she has me figured out, but she doesn’t know shit, and won’t unless I let her win this little game of hers.
I’ll keep my secrets locked up tight, no matter what.
Because the alternative… well, that isn’t an option.
Not for me, not for my family, not for anyone.
The thought brings clarity to my game, and I see an opening. Their star defender has the puck, his head down for a split second too long. I don’t hesitate. I slam into him, the sound of our bodies colliding echoing through the arena. The crowd erupts, but I barely hear them over the rush of adrenaline. I grin, feeling powerful and in control once again.
Untouchable.
Suddenly, I’m surrounded. Helmets hit the ice and opponents converge on me, fists flying. I give as good as I get, but am badly outnumbered. Then I feel a presence at my back – Tank. He’s jumped into the fray, followed closely by Echo and Daze. At that moment, all the tension that had been simmering in the locker room disappears. We’re a unit, protecting our own.
The refs finally break it up, but not before I’ve taken an elbow to the face and dropped to the ice. The others are mostly fine, and have surrounded me like a praetorian guard. As I get up, I thank them, and they pat me on the back. The crowd’s boos rain down, but I don’t give a shit. For the first time in weeks, I feel alive.
As I skate towards the penalty box, I can feel warm blood trickling from my nose. I drop onto the bench, grabbing a towel to stem the blood flow. That’s when I feel that pricklingsensation again. I look up, my eyes immediately finding Lily’s. What I see there catches me off guard. Gone is the cool, professional mask she usually wears.
For a split second, I see genuine concern etched on her face.
Our gazes lock, and something shifts in the air between us. It’s like she’s seeing me – really seeing me – for the first time. Not the hockey star, not the asshole who’s been giving her the cold shoulder, but just… me. The moment stretches, heavy with unspoken words. Then, as quickly as it appears, the look vanishes. Lily’s face smooths back into its usual neutral expression, her pen poised over her notebook.
It seems like we’ve found our level again.
I’ve regained some control over myself and the situation.
She’s given a little of it up as well.
As the penalty clock ticks down, I try to shake off the memory of her concerned gaze, curiosity about what she’s writing, and questions of what Lily has seen in that split second – and why it matters so damn much. I step back onto the ice, feeling more sense of purpose than I have in days, so badly shaken had I been since meeting her.