Page 96 of Over the Line

I grabbed a puck on my stick and skated a small circle, making sure every person and camera watching me believed my head was in the game. Then I stole a glance at someone, but not the man holding the baby by the gate.

Chris was passing a puck back and forth with Drizz like they always did during warmups. He was grinning as they chirped at each other, oblivious to what his father was doing to my brain.

We’re going to have to tell you, aren’t we? Because this thing…

I let my gaze drift back to Garrett for just a second.

This thing isn’t casual.

I swallowed hard. Fuck. No. It wasn’t. That thought was both terrifying and exhilarating, like taking the ice for game seven of the Cup finals. So much potential for amazing things to happen. So much potential for heartache and disaster.

I glanced at Chris again.

Then at Garrett.

Exhaling into the chill air, all I could think was…

Please don’t let me fuck this up.

Two nights before Christmas Eve, the arena opened for a family skate for players. That was a tough night for me sometimes. Though I was kind of indifferent about the idea of having kids of my own, the family skate always drove home how alone I was. I’d brought my last boyfriend when we’d been together, but that was a lifetime ago.

If my family was in town, I’d bring them, but they wouldn’t be here until tomorrow. In theory, I didn’t have to come tonight. After all, it was a family skate and mine wasn’t here.

But I was the captain. Family or no, partner or no, I always showed my face.

Sometimes I was okay with being here alone. Sometimes it prodded at me like an old injury that refused to heal.

Tonight, the wound felt fresh in a weird way, because I was here alone… but my boyfriend was here.

When I stepped out onto the ice, Garrett’s presence pulled my focus like a lone puck in the middle of an otherwise bare sheet. Through all the faces, familiar and otherwise, there he was—the man whose touch I’d been aching for.

He was here. He was on the same ice as me. He just… wasn’t here with me.

Right then, he looked my way, locking eyes with me from across the rink, and suddenly balance was hard to come by. The ice felt literally tilted. If not for decades of muscle memory, I probably would’ve fallen on my ass.

I had never in my life wished so much that I could take someone’s hand and glide around the rink. Maybe because we were surrounded by so many people doing just that. Maybe because I knew to my core I couldn’t do that with him.

Garrett wasn’t the only one to see me, though. Chris glanced in my direction, straightened, and then motioned for his siblings to follow.

Just like that, the Kane family was skating toward me, and I was out of breath like I’d just finished a two-minute shift.

“This is Liam St. Clair.” Chris beamed as he and his family skated to a stop. “He’s the captain and⁠—”

“Oh, come on.” His brother—because that had to be his brother—gave him a playful shove. “We all know who Liam St. Clair is.” Turning to me, he stuck out his hand. “Nick Kane. It’s great to finally meet you.”

“Likewise.” I shook his hand, then did the same with Chris’s sister Katie and sister-in-law, Charli. Looking around, I asked, “No Jasmine?”

“Are you kidding?” Chris grimaced. “She’s struggling to walk. If I suggested taking her skating, she’d make me sleep in the yard.”

Garrett laughed, unaware of what he was doing to my blood pressure. Clapping his son’s shoulder, he said, “You’re probably not wrong.”

“I think she should make him sleep in the yard anyway,” Katie said. “It would do you some good.”

Chris tsked and rolled his eyes, giving his sister a shove like Nick had done to him. She giggled and skated out of his reach.

Garrett chuckled. “All right, kids. Let’s behave.”

All three of them shot him puppy dog looks and talked over each other, declaring their innocence. He just laughed, shaking his head, while I stood there trying not to swoon. I didn’t even know why watching them together did that to me. Why it made me weirdly sentimental or… hell, I didn’t even know.