Page 44 of Ice King

I wasn’t certain if she was teasing me or not. True to form, his rage was on full display when he smashed his fist into the acrylic fencing surrounding the stands before storming off.

“He had about fifteen minutes to calm down and regain control or this game is already lost.”

“Help him,” Samantha encouraged. “Or he won’t be bearable to deal with. For a long time.”

Great. Talk about feeling pressure. How was I supposed to calm down a man like Ford, especially since our last interaction had been confusing, the conversation explosive?

“Where is he?”

“Locker room. Just be prepared. He won’t appreciate your interference.” Roxanne’s warning was done with a smile.

“Until he wins.” Samantha was just as pushy as her brother.

When the cameras found me in the audience then shifted to the earlier display of insanity in the parking lot with the hateful woman, I knew I’d faint. I had to get out of the arena.

“Fine,” I grumbled, moving through the crowd. By the time I made it to the hallway, I had to push and shove my way through far too many people, including reporters, whose questions were abominable. The coach was trying diligently to keep them from going into the locker room.

Catching my breath wasn’t an option, people pulling at me.

“There she is. The one on the jumbotron.”

Wait. Were the reporters determined to chase me down? I even took off running, fighting my way through them with my pulse racing.

When Coach Stryker noticed my approach, he appeared relieved, allowing me to scoot under his arm.

Finding Ford didn’t take me very long. He’d just punched the hard metal locker as he’d done with the plexiglass, and I could feel the intense vibrations from where I stood.

While half the players were in a state of undress, they weren’t in the mood to care about a woman invading their space.

They were far too busy perfecting their venomous expressions to notice me weaving through them.

“Glad you’re here,” the coach called.

Before I reached Ford, he’d jerked off his shirt and shoulder pads, cursing the entire time. He threw his arms up and against the locker, his head lowered. With his back to me, air wasyanked from my lungs from seeing his sculpted muscles. With Ford, you never knew what to expect and when I touched his arm, his reaction was full of the same anger. Even his eyes appeared dilated, shimmering in an entirely different way than I’d experienced so far.

I’d long since lost trust in my own feelings, confusing what I’d thought I wanted with a much uglier reality. Shutting myself down to prevent losing more of my thin grasp on happiness had been my main goal, ignoring the pain and fear that still threatened to sweep me into a horrible abyss.

What I hadn’t wanted was to feel any need to care about another soul. But the moment he recoiled as if he’d been punched in the face, I’d caught a slight glimpse of the man inside, the one without the bullshit bravado and cocky arrogance that the girls loved and the press and naysayers loved to hate.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he barked out. Everything with him was a battle, but my reactions were also easily pegged.

He could drive me crazier than almost anyone. The flow of current was doubled from what it had been before the stupid kiss, which almost made me regret being here. “I can help.”

His laugh was loud and annoying, but it was the look on his face that angered me. “You can’t help me. What do you think you can honestly do at this point, huh? You don’t even know a thing about hockey. And obviously nothing about shifters.”

Well, fuck. I deserved that.

“Yeah, you’re right. I don’t know much of anything, but I’m a quick learner and I’m very observant. What I know is that you honestly believe if you lose this game, you are finished and guesswhat, you’ve sold that shitty attitude to enough people ready to crucify you.”

He dared try to push me away, but this time, I wasn’t going to allow it to happen. I stepped in front ofhimfor a change, crowdinghisspace instead of the other way around.

“I’m not finished yet,” I barked, ready to launch into him. “You’re so damn hardheaded and set in your ways that you’re forgetting all about the love of the game, the reason you took your first steps in this world on the ice then refused to leave it for anything else.”

I sensed I’d crossed some invisible line, but by instinct, I rose onto my tiptoes and placed my index finger over his lips, softening my voice.

“I’m still not finished. You love hockey. You told me yourself it’s in your blood and I believe that. But without you letting go, shoving aside all the pressure you have to succeed, you won’t play your best. Now, let me help you remember. Okay?”

“I tell you what, Georgia. I’ll make you a deal. I’ll let you help if you’ll agree to have a drink with me after the game is finished. My choice if I win. Yours if I don’t.”