Confident, commanding, and beautiful.
I try not to stare, but I fail miserably.
We work opposite sides of the rink for a while. Him with the older kids who want to learn slap shots, me with the younger ones still mastering forward momentum. Every so often, our eyes meet across the ice. Every time, my stomach does a little flip.
It's Jessa who eventually skates up with that knowing look on her face. "So," she says, drawing out the word. "Roommate, huh?"
My face burns hotter than the rink lights. "He's just... he's very nice."
"Nice." Jessa repeats the word flat and skeptical. "That's not exactly the word I'd use for Silas Huxley. More... hmm. Gruff and thorny?"
I try to defend him, breathless and fumbling. "He is nice, though. When you get past all the growling and scowling, he's actually really sweet."
"Oh!" Understanding dawns on her face. "Oh my god, you've got a crush on him."
"What? No." My face heats and I shake my head emphatically. "We're just friends. Not even that. Friendly, at times. It's really noth?—"
A kid crashes into my legs and I stumble, catching myself on the boards. Jessa doesn't look swayed by my argument, but she rushes to check on the kid. When she gets him upright and skating again, she lets the subject drop.
Phew. I need her questioning me like I need a hole in the head.
I spend the rest of the event helping kids, occasionally glancing at Silas across the ice. He's good with them, patient in a way I didn't expect. Stoic, sure, but gentle when it counts.
By the end of the night, my legs ache in that good way that comes from real exercise. My cheeks hurt from smiling at kids and their parents. Despite spending two hours on my feet, I feel energized instead of drained.
Unfortunately, Enzo finds me near the exit while I'm unlacing my rental skates.
"Still slaving away for the Havoc, I see." His voice is slick and cutting, his face twisted in a sneer. "I'm sure you were mostly upset because you couldn't chase after the players and hover over them constantly. You know you drag people down with all that smothering, right? It's why I had to get out. You were suffocating me."
The old wound splits wide open. My throat tightens.
"Enzo, did you come to this event just to be mean to me?"
He looks amused. "No. I rep a lot of the players on the ice. You're the one who isn't supposed to be here."
Fixing him with a look, I sigh, "I don't understand why we keep having the same argument. We're divorced. I swear, I hear more complaints from you now than when we were married."
Enzo looks over my shoulder, sucking in a breath. That'sthe only warning I have before Tropical Storm Silas rolls up, furious.
"Say one more word to her, loser. Do it. I'm begging you." Silas points a finger in Enzo's face. "I'll drag you somewhere private so I can put you out of your misery, you ugly sack of shit."
Enzo raises his hands in mock surrender, that smug smile still in place. He's flushed though, right around his hairline. That's Enzo's tell. He plays it cool, but I can see he's sweating.
He says, "Just a little friendly advice between exes, Huxley. No need to get territorial."
"Fuck off. I don't want to see you in the arena anymore, Morelli." Silas is spitting mad.
"For her?" Enzo snorts. "She's not worth it. But I guess you'll find that out for yourself."
Silas lunges toward Enzo, who stumbles back over a bleacher seat. When Silas bares his teeth, Enzo continues to back away.
"Are you okay?" Silas asks me.
Pressing my lips into a firm line, I nod. Silas doesn't wait around, choosing instead to follow Enzo out. Maybe he's making sure his agent really leaves.
The damage is done. I'm left trembling in the aftermath, my hands shaking as I finish taking off my skates. I don't know if Silas defended me because he actually cares, or if he just wanted to flex his power over Enzo. Either way, it leaves me unsure and confused.
An hour later, alone in my room at Silas's condo, I log the Mobility Monday data on my laptop. Two players mentioned their backs feeling better after the stretches I prescribed. Juliet cc'd me on anice workemail to the GM. Small victories that should make me feel proud.
