I don’t know what’s going on. The coach is talking, and the only thing I’m paying attention to is the fucking time. Counting down every minute until I get Faith on the ice.

This is insane. I don’t know the woman. I vowed never to be with another, and yet, she’s always on my mind.

I smile as I think about her in the pool in a sexy bikini. I doubt that’s what she’s wearing, being as modest as she is, but my mind has other plans. Shit, I wish I wasn’t in the conference room watching the last game Arizona played against Colorado. The footage is great, but I can’t concentrate on it.

Then, I hear the magic words. “Guys, we’ll go down to the arena later, to go through strategies.”

Everyone’s muttering and talking as we leave the room. I’m worried for a second that the coach might’ve noticed I wasn’t really paying attention, but he doesn’t say anything as I stand. I need to get my mind back on the upcoming game and as far from Faith’s sexy little body as possible. But it’s so fucking hard. Near enough to impossible.

I grab my phone. She’s sent a text, saying they’re out of the pool and back in the room. She says she’ll meet me in ten minutes at the reception desk. That’s music to my ears, and I grab my bag, intent on making my way out of the room.

The coach grabs my arm. “Everything okay? You were miles away, Wright.”

Shit, he did notice.

I smile. “Yeah, sorry, Coach. Just want to make sure the kids are okay.”

His eyebrow arches. “And that’s why you were smiling while I was showing the game footage?”

Fuck! He was watching me more than I realized. I need to focus, but Faith’s taking over my damn mind. And I’m letting her.

“Coach, cut me a break. I’m here. Playing better than before. What more can I do?”

He uses his two fingers and very nearly pokes my eyes out. I jerk my head back just in time.

“Focus!”

I quickly move away from him, not wanting to hear more lecturing. A couple of guys seem to want his attention, which saves me from more grilling, and I slip out the door.

I sigh as I head toward the reception desk, because I know he’s right. I need to stop thinking with my cock and start using my damn head.

But that idea comes to a dramatic end when Faith enters the reception area. Even in her simple yoga pants and fitted shirt, she takes my breath away. She’s a distraction, that’s for sure. One that I need to rid myself of if I’m going to be the star player in this next game.

It’s then that I notice the kids aren’t with her.

“Where are—”

She holds up a hand. “They’re fine. There’s a play area and a babysitting facility here. I asked if they wouldn’t mind keeping an eye on them for a couple of hours, so we can do this. You don’t mind, do you?”

So we can do this. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask what kinds of delicious things she had in mind, but I swallow it back. I know what she means.

I shake my head, knowing that those kids would’ve kept me on the straight and narrow. But now, I’m going to be alone with Faith.

I can’t see how I’ll be able to control myself, but I know that I have to fucking try. After all, it’s only for a couple of hours.

* * *

Faith hasn’t stopped talking since we got here. I’m starting to think she’s even more nervous about all this than I am.

Luckily, there was equipment to be rented at the arena, so she was able to suit up in stuff that actually fit her to practice in.

“Are you sure you can skate?”

I can’t help but laugh as she tries to straighten up after falling yet again. She’s done that twice, and I’m just standing in the middle of the rink, waiting for her to join me.

“Yeah, I’m just really rusty.”

I nod my head, but she’s a mess. I didn’t think I came here to give her a skating lesson. I wanted to see her on the ice. But now…

Curiosity gets the best of me, and I skate closer to her. She’s shaking. “Faith? Are you okay?”

She shakes her head and then rips off her helmet. “I can’t do this.”

Tears are streaming down her face, and I wonder if maybe I was too harsh on her. Shit, I’m not good at this. I have no patience, whatsoever. The idea of teaching her anything makes me feel like I’m not the man for the job. And that’s exactly what went through my mind when she suggested it.

I remember trying to teach Darcy to ride a bike. That was a complete disaster. My own dad had to step in. I’m just not the sensitive kind of guy that can guide anyone step by step.

I take a deep breath, grabbing her hand as she starts heading off the ice.

“Look, I shouldn’t have laughed when you fell. I’m sorry.” I speak as softly as I can. “It’s just that you said you were preparing for a scholarship. Watching you like this, I find it hard to believe.”

She shakes her head, setting her helmet down on the ice.

“It’s not that.” She wipes at her eyes. “My mom played for Boston Pride.” She chuckles hollowly as her tears start to dry away. “She was the captain, like you.”

I nod. “So, she can train you, then. You don’t need me.”

She shakes her head again. “She’s dead, Tristan.” The words sound like sandpaper on her tongue. “All I ever wanted was for her to be proud of me. That’s why I put everything into hockey, and it’s just had the reverse effect. I’m no longer following in her footsteps. I’m falling away from them.”

A sad smile crosses my features, and I reach out to cup her face. “You’re too beautiful, and too passionate, to think of yourself as a failure, Faith. You just need to stop putting so much pressure on yourself.”

She sighs. “When I first started playing, I used to feel so damn powerful. Like everything was within my grasp. Including the puck. I had that in the palm of my hands. Then—”

I press my finger to her lips, my eyes locking with hers. “Remember that feeling, Faith, and let’s start again.” Despite my rational brain telling me I shouldn’t, I plant a delicate kiss on her cold, trembling lips.

Her eyelashes flutter, and a faint grin tugs at the corners of her mouth. I skate away from her, watching as she picks up her helmet and pushes it back on.

She’s not even the same person once she starts to skate this time. Gone is the nervous woman who was skating for the first time in years, replaced by a confident one, driven by the skills she’d once honed with hopes of using them in the future.

She’d be an excellent player, I can see that immediately, watching her every move as she follows my instructions down to the letter. The girl can skate.

But, each time I pass her the puck, it becomes evident where her weakness lies. She fails miserably to execute even the simplest shot, fumbling every pass I send her way.

“Faith! You need to focus. We’re going to take it from the top!”

I can hear her sigh, frustrated. But, after a moment, she nods her head, lowering her chin.

It’s getting time for us to head back to the hotel. I should tell her to stop, but she suddenly skates past me and, at last, she puts the biscuit in the basket.

It wasn’t just any goal, but a beautiful one. Her gloved hand rises in the air in triumph. She’s getting the hang of it, and she’s definitely got potential, if I do say so myself.

She isn’t the only one proud of her accomplishments. Maybe this teacher thing isn’t so bad, after all. And maybe that scholarship is more attainable than she thinks.