It’s a long time for a drill that’s designed to push skaters to their limit racing in groups from the starting point to thenext line, progressing further with each round. Typically it lasts around five minutes.
David’s eyes narrow. Alex pulls the rookies with him and the others follow. The team goes to line up, muttering curses to themselves. Once they’re in position split into groups at opposite corners of the rink, he blows his whistle.
“Jeez, Dad,” Eve mumbles a few minutes in. “Is this necessary?”
He grunts, moving away from us to oversee the team’s penalty. I rub the back of my neck and sigh.
“They’ll live. If he didn’t say something to them, I would’ve.”
She blinks, cheeks pink. Then she shakes her head, fighting back a shiver.
“The guys are harmless. I can handle players like Brody if it gets to me.”
I rub at my sternum to dispel the remnants of annoyance. “What are you working on?”
She holds up her iPad to show me. “This motivational sticker collection. I started designing them last night. I thought it would be cute if I got some colorful pens and maybe some notepads to send out with them. Like a positivity journaling set.”
She shivers again with a grimace, burrowing into the hoodie she’s wearing. I frown.
“Here. Put this on if you’re cold.”
I shrug out of my coaching jacket and drape it around her shoulders. She peers up at me while I zip it for her, hands lingering when it hits me she’s wearing my name. If she turns around, I’ll seeAssistant Coach Kincaidacross her back.
Possessiveness burns in my chest. I curl my fingers into my palms to stop myself from pulling her into me the way I want to right now. Because wearing my name makes her look like she’s mine.
“Thanks. It helps.” She lifts the collar and tucks her nose inside, closing her eyes. “It’s warm.”
This jacket isn’t one of my old hockey sweaters, yet the effect it has on me is just as strong seeing her in it. I used to think my old teammates were joking about wanting to see their girlfriends wearing their jerseys.
Now I get the appeal. Not only wanting to broadcast who she’s rooting for, but also knowing her eyes are on me all the time. My mind flashes with ideas of her wearing it. Her riding me in reverse. Sleepy in bed on a Saturday morning, curled up with me. Out at The Landmark.
Damn. I fear I’ll never work her out of my system because the more I’m around her, the more she draws me in.
“Aren’t you cold? It’s freezing in here today.” She tugs the sleeves over her hands.
“Not anymore than usual.”
She sneezes. “Must be me.”
My brow wrinkles as she goes back to working on her design. She doesn’t seem like herself today. Her hair is done in a more simple style than usual and she’s bundled in comfy clothes. She’s not even wearing earrings.
Her face is too flushed. I feel her forehead. She jerks in surprise. Gut clenching, I touch the back of my hand to her feverish skin again.
“Hold still,” I murmur. “You feel pretty warm.”
“I’m okay. I was just up late.” She worries her lip. “I’m supposed to get a ride to work from Dad.”
“Hang on. I’ll give you a ride instead.”
I hurry to David with quick strides. He’s putting on the strict coach act, barking at straggling players to pick up their pace.
“Hey, I’m taking Eve home. I think she’s sick. She’s got a fever,” I say.
His stony expression falls. “She’s always pushing herself too hard.” He checks his watch. “I’m meeting Neil for lunch at the bar. I’ll let Matt know she won’t be in for work.”
“Okay.”
He blows his whistle. “That’s it for today. Get out of here.”
