“You got troubles?” Cruz asked.
“A lot,” I said. With a long sigh, I gave them the gist of the situation.
“So, you got married?” Naese said.
“Would have been nice to see that,” Cruz mumbled. “I love weddings.”
“He had to get married. ICE or some shit is breathing down his neck,” Cormac said. “He just told you that.”
“So, it’s not real?” Stol asked.
“It’s fucking real,” I growled. “Now, stop talking about my wife. My love life. Me.” I met each of my friends’ eyes. I held Cormac’s the longest, until he dropped his gaze, his cheeks turning ruddy.
“You’re right, man. Sorry,” he said.
I silently dressed for the game. Once I was ready, I headed over to Coach and asked for some time on the ice to clear my head. He glanced at Cormac, clearly aware of the tension building there—because Coach kneweverything—and nodded.
When I headed up to the ice, I noted Ida Jane, my tiny blond vixen, already in the stands. She’d changed from her wedding gown and taken her hair down. She looked relaxed as she read something on her phone. I called out her name, and she looked up and smiled, waving at me.
She was a vision sitting in the seats, one row up and two rows over from the bench. They were my team seats, something I rarely used. In fact, up to this point, I’d let the Wildcatters give my tickets to each game to veterans and first responders. There was no sense for them to go to waste, and I wanted those groups of people to know I appreciated them.
I shifted my weight, unsure I’d be able to tear my gaze away if I glanced back. She looked gorgeous. The bruises were barely noticeable from here. Her top clung to those glorious tits—the ones I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the past couple of days. She rose from the chair, and I noted her legs looked sleeker in the skinny jeans she wore. Nothing would make them look long because she was tiny, but she worked those petite curves to perfection.
I was desperate to peel those jeans off her later. And I wanted to tuck her under my arm and glower at any man who dared to so much as glance in her direction.
“Stop scowling,” Cormac muttered out of the side of his mouth when he skated past me. “You’re gonna scare the kids.”
“Fuck off.”
“I deserve that.” He remained quiet as we took another loop around the ice. “I’m happy for you, man,” he said, patting my shoulder.
I shrugged off his mitted hand as I stopped.
“No, you’re not.” I wasn’t one to back down from a fight, and Cormac should know that.
He sighed even as he nudged me into a lazy skate around the perimeter of the rink. “Iamhappy. I just…worry about you, too. You’re often so deep in your head, I can’t pull you out. And I know you feel a lot,” Cormac continued when the silence got to him. “AndI know you don’t like to process it. So, yeah, I’m worried about you. I just…I want you to be happy.”
Well, fuck. How did I stay mad at him after all that? I slung my arm around his shoulder. “I appreciate you clarifying. I didn’t…” I frowned. This talking shit out was harder than fifty sprints across the ice after a full practice. “I needed to hear that.”
“You, Maxim Dolov, are one of my closest friends. I care a lot about what’s going on with you.” He patted the back of my helmet. “Don’t make me do this heart-to-heart again, though, you hear me? Just know you matter and stop making me worry.”
“Yeah, Mac. Back at you.” I shifted my shoulder into his side as I shoved off the side of my blade. “Now, let me focus on the game.”
“You got it, Maximum.” He chuckled as I sped away.
Once we were in line for the national anthem, I looked back up to Ida Jane. She was chatting with an older man, who hung off her every word.
My scowl felt hot enough to burn the ice, and Mac nudged me.
“You look scarier than Cruz,” he whispered.
I tried to rearrange my features, but all I could think about was Ida Jane. I’d never been so consumed by another person, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about her taking up all this space and emotion.
I just knew I couldn’t fathom a time when she hadn’t been there, doing that to me.
I was in so much trouble.
* * *
