Scoring Off The Ice (Ice Kings #2) - Stacey Lynn Page 0,68

of putting bumpers on the corner of my tables. I now have every outlet blocked, every cabinet door and drawer locked even though he still won’t crawl for months.

Emotions threaten to overwhelm as I take the ice, smiling at them cheering me on. Paisley grabs one of Angelo’s furry covered fists—she insisted on dressing him like a teddy bear—and waves it in the air.

The practice is tough, but like always, Jude and Jason and I fall into our forward line like the trio we usually are. Jason misses a pass or two, which causes me to check on him once the second line takes over. We’re scrimmaging, with the first line playing the back-ups and the second and third lines backing up each other, against us. The line that takes over us are usually bench players, some who are only fortunate to travel with the team once or twice a year. Then there’s Klaus Newman, the right-winger who was switched from second line to first last season when Jude was hurt.

He’s incredible. I can see Coach watching him with intense focus. A ball grows in my throat at that. Any of us can lose our line. We can be switched up and sometimes are, but the Taylors and I have had great success when together. But that doesn’t mean Jude isn’t worried about Newman taking his. Last season, when Newman played with us, we gelled quickly and powerfully. We were practically unstoppable, winning eight games on a ten-day away road stretch.

Jason spent most of it worried on Jude’s behalf, but now, he’s the one I’m more worried about. He’s skating like he’s angry at the team, slap shots coming too quick, wrist shots weak. He should have been put in the sin bin for a tripping call against Duke Fletcher, one of our team’s defensemen, and I’m pretty sure he’s ready to rip off his gloves and have a go at Hendrix.

Which makes no sense. We’re on the same team and Hendrix is one of his closest friends.

I squirt the bottle in the holder in front of our bench into my mouth and tap his stick. “What’s going on? Pissed at something?”

He sucks back at his own water, his gaze on the ice. Jaw hard, Eyes narrowed. “Nope.”

From anyone else, I would believe them. But Jason likes to talk and joke. He’s loud and boisterous and even though he takes his career seriously, he usually treats hockey like one big, fun game.

“How’s Sawyer and Tessa? They find her ex yet?”

“Yeah. They found him. He’s in Nova Scotia.”

He shoves to his feet, apparently done with my questioning. He and Sawyer went to college together. Were roommates for three years before Sawyer graduated a year before him. After Jude, Sawyer is probably like a brother to him so it’s understandable he’s pissed about Tessa.

But there has to be something else. Jason rarely lets anything get to him outside an opponent in the rink.

The whistle is called, and he and I jump the boards, quickly skating to take the puck from Hendrix and getting back to it. For the next hour, everything else is pushed out of my mind. My focus and life is zoned in on a three-inch rubber disc. And when practice is done, I glance to the end of the rink where the free skaters are lined up, anxiously stepping in their rented skates to come out with us. Before I meet them though, I skate to Paisley. She’s standing with Angelo at the home team bench. Ice flies up in the air as I pull to a stop. I pull Angelo from her arms while planting a kiss on her lips.

“So, we’re here. Wanna tell us why?” She’s taller than me since she’s standing in the raised bench area and smiling down at me.

“Yeah. I believe it’s time I go public with this little guy.” I’ve planned this but didn’t tell her. I don’t want Paisley to be aware of cameras or press or nervous about it and once she said she was skipping class to come, I made sure the sports reporters who would be here would make time for me first.

“What?”

I gesture toward the guy coming our way, cameramen behind him. When I turn back to Paisley, her blue eyes are as large as the hockey puck and her skin the color of ice. “You… you want me here? For this?”

“Off camera,” I assure her. It’s not like she’s his mom, although I definitely like the sound