“Helps me focus,” I mutter, grabbing the next puck.
He coasts closer, his skates whispering over the ice, and drops into a crouch. “Good. ‘Cause I’m here to make sure my partner doesn’t choke at Nationals.”
I glare at him over my shoulder. “We’re not partners.”
“Could’ve fooled Coach,” he says, flashing that slow, infuriating grin. “Besides…I think we make a good team.”
I fire another puck just to avoid answering, but my chest feels tight, and I hate that I can still see the memory of his hips moving and thrusting into the ice burned behind my eyes.
After a breath, I send another puck flying into the net, the sharp echo bouncing off the empty arena. Logan glides to a stray puck, crouching to scoop it up with the tip of his stick. He flicks it toward me like we’ve been doing this together forever.
“Come on, Shaw,” he says. “Let’s run it like Coach wanted. You and me. Full speed.”
I exhale hard, like I can blow the tension out of my lungs. “Fine.”
We line up, me skating backward to defend, him charging forward with that lazy, confident posture that always turns lethal in the blink of an eye. The first rush is a blur—his stick flashes, my skates cut hard, and our shoulders collide with a solid thud. The impact zings through my chest. Not because it hurts, but because I’m so fucking aware of him, it feels like he’s all I can sense.
“Not bad,” he says, grinning like he’s enjoying every second of this. “But I think you can hit me harder.”
I grit my teeth and try again. This time I read his feint perfectly, skating backward, cutting him off near the blue line. He spins, trying to keep the puck, and we collide chest-to-chest, our momentum locking us together for a second too long.
Heat sparks under my skin.
“Careful,” he murmurs, voice low and teasing. “Keep looking at me like that, and the guys really will start talking if they see it.”
“I’m looking at the puck,” I snap, even though we both know that’s a lie.
We reset for another rush. My legs are burning, but adrenaline keeps me sharp. He charges again, faster this time, and I go to block him. My skate slips on a shallow groove in the ice, and suddenly he’s got a hand on my hip, steadying me before I eat it.
My breath catches. He doesn’t move his hand right away.
“Easy,” he says softly, almost like he’s enjoying the fact that I’m off-balance in more ways than one.
I jerk away, gripping my stick tighter. “Run it again.”
He just smirks, backing up for another go, and I know I’m in trouble. Because the more we collide on the ice, the more I can’t tell if I want to check him into the boards…or pull him closer.
By the timeCoach comes out of his office and calls it, my legs are on fire, my shirt is plastered to my back, and my brain feels like it’s short-circuited. Logan and I skate off together, both breathing hard. He peels his beanie off, raking a hand through dark, damp hair, and I have to look away fast before my thoughts wander somewhere I don’t want them to.
“Good practice, Captain,” he says, like he didn’t just spend an hour knocking me off my axis.
I grunt something that might be “yeah,” tossing my stick onto my rack. I tug my gloves off, and then I make a beeline for the locker room like my life depends on it.
The room is empty, the rest of the team long gone. I toss my gloves into the cubby and then sink onto the bench in front of my cubby, trying to pretend my heart isn’t pounding for reasons that have nothing to do with conditioning.
Of course, that’s when Logan strolls in.
His t-shirt is clinging in all the wrong—or right—places. He drops onto his seat in front of his cubby, stretching his long legs out.
“Not bad today,” he says. “You almost knocked me on my ass twice.”
“Almost,” I mutter, yanking at my skates. My fingers fumble with the laces.
He notices. His grin turns slow and knowing. “You always this jumpy in the locker room, Shaw?”
I glare. “I’m not jumpy.”
“You’re…something,” he says, angling his body toward me, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. His voice drops just enough to make my pulse jump again. “But I like skating with you. We’re good together.”
