The drill runs clean. Not perfect, but better than last week.
I skate along the boards, calling out reminders, correcting grips, nudging kids back into position when they drift. There’s laughter when someone wipes out, a few groans when I make them redo a lap. Normal. Good.
Matty misses a pass, recovers, and hustles back without looking to see if I noticed.
“Nice recovery,” I call out.
His head snaps up, surprise flashing across his face, before he nods and skates harder.
We wrap up practice with a short scrimmage. I blow the whistle when time’s up, and the kids pile toward the bench, flushed and breathless.
“Sticks up,” I remind them. “Good work today.”
Helmets come off. Gloves get dropped. Parents filter in, offering water bottles and high-fives.
Matty jogs over, cheeks red, his hair plastered to his forehead. “Did you see my stop near the end?”
“I did,” I say. “You didn’t panic. That’s the part that matters.”
He grins like I just told him he won the Stanley Cup.
After I help him load his gear into my trunk, we talk about pizza toppings like it’s a serious negotiation. Pepperoni wins. It always does.
Once he’s settled back at Gwen’s, I head home, the quiet hitting me the second I shut my front door.
I drop my keys in the bowl by the entry, toe off my boots, and lean back against the door for a moment, reflecting on the day.
It was busy, but good. Really good. Getting to see Bristol in her element was an added bonus.
Pushing off the door, I head for the shower to clean up and change into sweats before I finally settle into bed with my phone in hand.
RedBarnRhett:Tomorrow night work for you?
Three dots appear.
Disappear.
Come back again.
I grin at my phone like an idiot.
Mistletoe_Reader:Tomorrow works. I only work until 2. Any time after that is good.
RedBarnRhett:Perfect. I’ll send details a little later. Looking forward to seeing you in the morning, too. ;)
Setting my phone down, I stare at the ceiling with my hands laced behind my head and let myself think about Bristol.
The way she stood there, arms crossed over her chest, making her ample chest even harder to ignore, was sexy as hell.
The thought of justhowsexy settles low in my body, slow and insistent.
It’s been years since a woman has gotten under my skin this quickly. Since justthinkingabout someone makes my pulse thrum and my body sit up and pay attention.
From her seductive curves to her quirky and eclectic sense of style and those dorky yet sophisticated glasses, I think it’s safe to say that I’ve officially developed a sexy librarian fantasy.
It’s not just her physical appearance that does it for me, either.
Bristol has substance. Intelligence. Humor. A warmth that sneaks up on you when you least expect it.
