So I don’t speak; I memorize his face instead.
Strands of his blond hair are peeking out from under his pink beanie. His skin is flushed. I think it’s in a permanent state of being flushed. Though it might be because it’s cold in here. His big, pretty eyes are locked on mine. His perfectly shaped pink lips are slightly parted. He has a soft curvature to his jaw and he’s completely clean shaven. His neck is slender and smooth.
I’m not sure why, but I pull him closer. Now that he’s wearing skates, he’s nearly my same height again. So when I narrow the distance between us, our faces are really close. I lick my lips as I stare into his eyes. I’ve never seen such unique, pretty eyes before.
Closer. Our mouths are almost touching.
And then the back of my skate hits something and we gotoppling over. Torin lets out a loud yelp as I pull him against my chest and angle my body to make sure we fall on my back with him on top of me.
The slam into the ice is jarring. I manage to keep my head from cracking, but that’s mostly from practice more than the way I fell. Which is lucky, since I’d taken my helmet off. Torin is on top of me, splayed out and gripping me tightly.
“Are you okay?” I ask, pushing his hair back so I can look at his face.
He’s breathing heavily but Torin nods. “Yeah. Just startled.”
I glance around and find the bucket he’d been dumping our pucks into. That’s what I’d skated into. I laugh and close my eyes, letting my head fall back to rest on the cold ice. “Sorry. Wasn’t paying attention.”
“It’s okay,” he says, voice quiet.
I drape both my arms around him and Torin settles, relaxing against me. Fuck, I could have hurt us both.
“Everything okay out here?”
Torin immediately tries to get up and ends up sprawled out on the ice beside me. Chuckling, I sit and look at Coach. “Yep. Wasn’t paying attention and fell over the bucket.”
Coach Ajo gives me a bemused look. “I expect neither of you to be hurt when you get off the ice. Understand me?”
“Yes, Coach,” we both call back. I throw Torin a grin because we spoke the words in unison.
Coach gives us one of his small smiles and a curt nod before turning away.
“He probably heard you scream,” I tease.
Torin huffs as he sits up. “I didn’t scream.”
Laughing, I get to my feet and pull him up too. “Here. Hang out by the bucket. I’ll toss the pucks to you.”
“You think I can bend down in skates and not crack my head open?” he asks, eyebrow raised.
“You can try.”
“You want to see that, do you?” There’s a playful smile on his lips and, for some reason, I stare at it for a minute.
“Kinda, yeah. I think you don’t give yourself enough credit.You’re pretty good on skates as long as you’re not thinking about it.”
Torin rolls his eyes. I press him against the boards so he has something to hang onto before grabbing my stick and heading for the rest of the pucks. There are half a dozen spread around and I fling them toward him.
He doesn’t bend down. Instead, he lowers himself to his knees and scrambles after the pucks I send his way. It leaves me laughing as I return.
When I return, I stuff the rest of my gear into the bucket too and load Torin on my back. Which he loudly protests to. It’s the loudest I’ve ever heard his voice. But he hangs on tightly as I carry him, the bucket of pucks and my gear, plus my stick, toward the chute.
I bring him all the way to the locker room, which is empty now, before helping him down to his feet. He quickly changes out of the skates and disappears to put the spare skates and pucks away before I’ve even peeled off my pads.
Chuckling, I begin my routine of stripping, showering, and dressing again before I go to find Torin. He’s in his office, sitting in a chair. He looks up when I stand in his doorway. As I’m coming to expect, his cheeks flush when he looks at me.
“Want to grab a bite to eat and then head to my house?”
Torin nods. “Yeah.”
