"What?"
"You're staring. Don’t be a creeper.”
"I'm observing. In case someone gets hurt. And I think someone is hurt."
"Uh-huh." She smirks. "Observing the captain very closely."
"Shut up." I hit her, then nervously look around to see if anyone heard her. I tear my eyes away and busy myself setting up a small first aid station at the bench. Band-aids. Ice packs. Antiseptic wipes. The essentials for minor scrapes and bruised egos. But my gaze keeps drifting back to the ice.
Emmett has gotten the little boy to stop crying. He's saying something that makes the kid laugh, then helps him back to his feet. Instead of sending him off, Emmett skates slowly beside him. One hand hovering near the boy's back, ready to catch him if he falls again. The boy gains confidence, skating a little faster, and Emmett matches his pace. Encouraging him. When the kid makes it all the way to the boards without falling, he throws his tiny arms up in triumph. Emmett gives him a high five that nearly knocks him over. He then scoops him up and spins him around while the kid shrieks with laughter.
Something twists in my chest. I've seen Emmett Black be many things. Intense. Commanding. Infuriatingly cocky. I've seen him bark orders on the ice and intimidate opponents twice his size. I've seen him pressed against me in a hotel room. Allheat and barely restrained hunger. I've never seen him like this. Gentle. Patient. Soft.
"You're staring again," Collette calls me out.
"I'm doing my job."
"Your job is to look at the captain like you want to climb him like a tree?"
"I do not ..." I cut myself off because she's baiting me, and I'm falling for it. "Don't you have content to create?"
"I'm multitasking." She wanders off toward the ice with her camera, leaving me alone with my very inconvenient thoughts.
For the next hour, I patch up scraped knees and hand out ice packs for bumped elbows, nothing serious. The players are careful with the kids. The kids are having the time of their lives.
Emmett rotates through different groups, spending time with each one. He teaches the beginners how to fall safely. "Butt first, not face first," he tells them. Demonstrating by flopping dramatically onto the ice while the kids howl with laughter. He runs passing drills with the intermediate kids, cheering every successful connection like they've just won the Cup. He lets the older kids try to steal the puck from him, pretending to be outmaneuvered before accidentally losing it to a determined ten-year-old. He's good at this. Really good.
"Excuse me?" A small voice pulls my attention.
A little girl is standing at my station, maybe six years old, with a gap-toothed smile and braids poking out from under her helmet.
"Hi, sweetie. Are you hurt?"
"No." She leans against the boards. "I just wanted to take a break. Skating is hard."
"It is hard. But you looked like you were doing great out there."
She shrugs. "Emmett says I'm a natural. But I fell three times."
"Emmett, huh? Not Captain Black?"
"He said to call him Emmett." She giggles. "He's nice. He caught me when I almost fell into the boards."
"Did he?" Why is my heart doing weird things in my chest?
"Uh-huh. And he said falling is how you learn. He said he fell a hundred times when he was learning."
"I bet he did." I smile.
She's quiet for a moment, watching the ice. "Are you his girlfriend?"
I choke on nothing. "What? No. Why would you think that?"
"Because he keeps looking at you." She points matter-of-factly. "Every time he skates by, he looks over here. My mom says that's what boys do when they like someone."
My face is burning. "We just work together. And my brothers are his teammates. Have you heard of the St. Pierre brothers?" She nods furiously. "I'm their sister. And so is she." I point to Collette.
"You work with your brothers?" She scrunches up her face.
