"Now I'm picturing you zooming around the ice dressed in a leotard." Which would leave nothing to the imagination. My eyes immediately dropped to his groin, before snapping back to his face.
He noticed, but didn't look like he minded.
"If I tried lifting you over my head, someone would get hurt," he said with a chuckle.
"I don't believe that," I said. "I bet you could hold someone up over your head all day long." Or hold them over his body all night long, even after they were slick with sweat.
I hadn't missed the way his biceps strained even under his jacket. He was clearly fit.
"Maybe for an hour or two," he conceded. "Any more than that and my arms would get tired." He mimed holding someone up, his arms wobbling as if he was about to drop them.
I laughed.
"I don't think you're giving yourself enough credit," I told him.
"Maybe not. We could always try it after the game," he said jokingly.
"I don't know. We wouldn't want to show the players up, would we?" I said.
He pointed a finger at me. "Good point. We wouldn't want to do that. Some of these boys have healthy egos, Mikko in particular. I wouldn't want them to feel bad about their puny muscles."
He gave me a lopsided smile. Clearly he didn't think they had puny muscles at all. They wouldn't be professional athletes if they did, right?
"This is as close as I can get you," the driver called out.
Forrest nodded. "Good enough."
He got out of the car and hurried around to open my door for me.
"You know I can do that, right?" I whispered.
"I know," he whispered back, "but I want to do it for you. Just this once, at least." He winked and held out his hand to help me out of the car.
I slid my palm against his and let his fingers curl around mine. I didn't even flinch or want to pull away. I realized I hadn't any time we touched. I was comfortable with him, if a little aroused at his proximity.
I climbed out carefully. Right here, in front of him and all the people walking past, would be a bad place to face plant.
I managed to exit the car without embarrassing myself and closed the door behind me.
"This way." He showed a pass to the security guard on the door and led me over to an elevator. "This leads up to the private boxes," he said.
I watched the crowds moving toward the seating area and nodded. Part of me wouldn't have minded mingling with them, but I had a feeling this game was going to get loud. Not to mention, there was a lot of people. Thousands. All talking, laughing, pressed together, sharing air…
A private box was a good idea for my first time. First time seeing a hockey game that is, not the other kind of first time.
The noise in here had me rattled.
"If it's too much…" Forrest started to say.
"It's fine," I said quickly. "Nothing I can't handle."
He waited until we were inside the elevator and the door was closed before he asked, "You don't like crowds?"
"Not really," I said, raising my elbows to remind myself there was space around me. "I get overwhelmed. Then I start to freak out and want to hide in a corner." Maybe I shouldn't be so honest, but he asked, and I wanted him to know what might happen. I hoped like hell it wouldn't.
I tapped my fingertips against the heel of my hand, a tick I had when I was getting anxious. It helped me to focus and calm my mind.
"I don't like crowds too much either," he admitted. "Because I want to have you to myself." He brushed hair off my cheek that escaped from my ponytail.
