“You didn’t push too far,” I said quietly. “I’m the one who—”panicked and ran like the building was on fire.“I’m the one who made it weird.”
“You didn’t make it weird.”
“Derek. I literally fled.”
“Okay,” he said and the corner of his mouth twitched. “That part was a little weird.” His expression softened again. “But I get it. I think. You’re not used to people seeing you—the real you. And I saw a lot last night.”
Heat crept up my neck. I looked away.
“Hey.” His voice was gentle. “Snowdrop, look at me.”
I frowned and turned back. “Snowdrop? Is that an insult?”
“What?” He looked almost offended. “No. It’s a flower. They bloom in the snow—sometimes push right through the ice. My mom loves them. She has a whole patch in her garden back home.”
I stared at him. “You’re comparing me to a flower your mother likes.”
“I’m comparing you to a flower that looks delicate but is tough as hell.” He shrugged, a faint flush rising in his cheeks. “One that blooms when everything around it says it shouldn’t.” His eyes held mine. “It made me think of you.”
I didn’t know what to do with the soft, fragile thing unfurling in my chest.
“That’s—” I swallowed. “That’s annoyingly sweet.”
“Yeah, well.” He smiled—crooked, warm—and it made my stomach flip. “I’m an annoyingly sweet guy. You’ll get used to it.”
I wasn’t sure I would. I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
But I didn’t run this time.
23. Derek
I was in a window seat near the front of the plane when Petrov dropped heavily into the seat beside mine. He wore sunglasses even though we were inside and drank black iced coffee out of a huge plastic cup.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “I really am getting too old for this shit.”
I hummed my agreement, taking a sip of my more reasonably sized coffee. I hadn’t slept well but it had nothing to do with going out last night.
Petrov nudged his sunglasses down and peered at me over the top of the frames. “Théo’s friend was beautiful last night.”
I shrugged. “She’s a bit young.”
“Same age like Théo, yes?”
“Probably around there.”
He took a long pull of his coffee, then added, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “He is beautiful too.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. Petrov had joined the Frost the year after I was drafted. We had been playing together for six years. Gone out together. I’d seen him take home countless women. This was the first time I had ever heard him call a man attractive. “You think so?”
He shrugged. “Don’t you?”
I glanced around reflexively and spotted Avery sitting with Kenzo a few rows back. He had on noise canceling headphonesand his eyes were closed like most of the guys dozing around us. It was an early flight.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“A good hockey player notices things,” he said.
“And a mediocre one from Russia?”
