“Hey,” I say softly. “In the mood for a visitor?”
His handsome face breaks into a smile, that damn dimple showing. “Ivy? I thought you weren’t working today.”
“Decided to make a visit outside my hours, if you don’t mind.” Stepping inside, I hold up the bag. “I brought contraband, too.”
He sits up straighter, the movement slow. “What kind?”
“The best kind.” I set the bag on the tray table and start unpacking, popping the lid off the Styrofoam container. “Plain pancakes with butter and maple syrup.”
“You remembered.”
He inhales deeply, the way people do when a good meal is set down in front of them, savoring the scent. A pleased groan rumbles out of him as he rubs his hands together, boyish and unguarded.
My heart does the annoying thing where it skips when he’s around. “Of course I did. Who forgets a man’s pancake preferences?”
He laughs in agreement and reaches for the fork I hand him, devouring his favorite food. His moans of enjoyment should be illegal. “Did you make these?” he asks between large bites. “They’resodamn good. Reminds me of the ones my Uncle Jake makes.”
“I did not. Unless I was secretly hired by Hudson Hash, and no one told me.”
“I’ve heard they offer the best diner pancakes on the other side of the river, but I haven’t been there.”
“They’re my post-practice reward.” I settle into the chair beside him with my portion. “Though I don’t usually share.”
“Practice.” He echoes, tilting his head curiously. “What practice?”
I exhale through my nose. “Ice Cross.” This is the part where people usually blink at me like I’ve grown a second head.
“Icewhat?” He sets the fork down and wipes his mouth with a napkin.
“Ice Cross,” I repeat. “It’s downhill skating. Basically no-contact sprints on a vertical ice track. Think luge meets roller derby meets ice hockey on crack.”
“Oh, I’ve heard of it before.” Teddy blinks, processing the information. “Let me get this straight: you’re a nurseandan Ice Cross star?”
I snort. “I’m definitely a nurse. The other part is debatable. I’m only starting my second season next month.”
“What does an Ice Cross season look like?”
“Everything happens in under three months, so pretty packed,” I explain. “We’ve got a week-long training camp in Japan in early January, then ten races—five in Europe and five in North America. There’s twenty women and twenty men. The races are televised.”
“Sounds intense.”
“It is,” I admit with a smile. “It’s not exactly the kind of sport that pays a lot, especially women. Since it’s only starting to gain popularity, we get paid for competing and a bonus based on final rankings. If you’re not in the top five, it’s not a whole lot. I’ve got one sponsor, Blackbeard Energy Drinks. The company covers my flights and some of my accommodations when we’re on the road. Hence, I’m a nurse by day, semi-pro ice maniac by night.”
“No way! I’ve been sponsored by Blackbeard for years, too. Their CEO is a friend of mine. That’s such a cool connection.”He’s grinning now. “What else haven’t you told me? You bench press ambulances in your free time?”
“Only on weekends,” I deadpan.
He laughs, shaking his head. “You don’t strike me as the type to hurl yourself down an icy death slide for fun. That’s so wild.”
“What do I seem like then?”
“I don’t know yet.” There’s a flicker of vulnerability behind the words. “But I want to.”
His confession steals the breath from my lungs. I look away, suddenly hyper-aware of the small room and the closeness between us. My earlier thoughts flood my mind and I have to move the conversation to another direction.
“Well, now you know I'm a daredevil.”
“It’s a bit strange how you’re helping me recover from my injury, while taking big risks that could put you in a similar situation.”
