Chapter 10—Shredding the Offense

Grinning, Drew mirrored Marina’s movements as they skated in a large circle at high speed. He was having fun. Digging in, she powered in front of him, and he lifted her by the waist before dropping to one knee, while still holding her above his head. He slid to a stop, released her, and she did the splits in front of him, ending their routine.

A huge smile spread across his face as he shot to his feet and pulled her up next to him. Her mega-watt smile warmed his heart and other parts he’d been trying to keep under wraps. She was so beautiful, and her face glowed with happiness. Come to think of it, he couldn’t recall the last time he’d smiled this broadly and felt this free and happy.

She threw back her head and laughed for the pure joy of it all. He wrapped her in his arms and spun her around, both of them laughing as their skates became tangled and they fell into a heap on the ice with Marina half underneath him.

As she stared up at him with her expressive brown eyes, he forgot the rest of the world.

She held him in a trance, the same one she appeared to be in. Neither spoke, they barely breathed. Their lips were mere inches apart, and he so wanted to taste them. One little taste. That’s all. That’d be enough. Only it wouldn’t. He’d want more. She was an addiction he couldn’t shake, and thoughts of her occupied his days and nights.

“Drew?” she said questioningly, then pushed on his chest. He woke from his Marina-induced stupor and hauled himself to his feet. Offering her his hand, he helped her stand.

“Sorry,” he said.

“Nothing to be sorry for.” She brushed his remark off as if the last several seconds hadn’t happened, as if she hadn’t felt the connection tugging at both of them. Her smile returned. “We nailed it!”

“We did,” he agreed, smiling again. “We were awesome.”

“We were. Next time we’re working on the jumps.”

He made a face. Even though he secretly loved the jumps, he pretended he didn’t to get a rise out of her.

They’d run through the majority of their routine and done it close to perfectly. He couldn’t begin to explain the pure joy that enveloped him when he was skating with Marina. They’d been in the zone, one mind, one body… Fuck, maybe even one soul. He’d never wanted anything in his life as much as he wanted her. She’d made him love life again, even if only a portion of it. He’d been dead to the world around him. Numb and unfeeling. Now he’d emerged from a black-and-white world to one in full, vibrant colors. He didn’t want to lose those colors again.

The past several days had been tough, but the Sockeyes made it through the first round by the skin of their teeth. They won the seventh game in L.A. in overtime in a five to four nail-biter and were moving on to the second round against San Jose.

Cave proved he belonged on the first line by being all over the ice, assisting, passing, blocking, shooting, and scoring the winning goal with five seconds on the clock. Drew, on the other hand, hadn’t proven a thing. He hadn’t played badly, just not impressively. He wasn’t performing to his potential. Yet the coaches seemed pleased with the improvements they’d seen. It certainly wasn’t enough to win back his spot on the first line, but he was becoming accustomed to playing with Ziggy and Rush.

Tomorrow they’d fly to San Jose and the next night they’d play the first of two away games before returning to Seattle for two home games. Today they had a much-needed break. Drew and Marina were taking advantage of the deserted practice rink to work on their pairs routine. The last couple of games had been too intense to spend time on figure skating. He enjoyed the break from hockey, probably a little too much.

His parents had been absent from his games. He’d heard through the hockey grapevine they were back home in Toronto. He’d never gone this long without talking to either of them. He should be relieved without their constant scrutiny, and he was, but not as much as he’d have guessed. He missed them, but he couldn’t cave this time. They’d expect him to come back on their terms. If he did, he’d lose what little ground he’d gained.

He still wasn’t as crazed as his teammates about the playoffs, but he was faking it better, judging by the looks of approval he’d seen on Coop and Smooth’s faces.

And he had Marina to thank for his improved attitude. Gorst damn well better notice and give credit where credit was due. Maybe he’d talk to him, throw in a good word for this woman currently gazing up at him with adoring eyes. He couldn’t recall anyone ever looking at him like that, and he suppressed his urge to touch her. He’d be a goner if he did something that stupid. Touching her during their skating practice was torture enough.

“Marina, a word with you.” There was no mistaking the stern voice of Mina from near the corridor.

Marina jumped and skated backward a few steps. “Aunt Mina.” Guilt was written all over her face. Her aunt stood near the gate, her arms crossed over her chest and her dissecting gaze ripping Drew a new one. The entire team was afraid of Mina. She had Ethan’s ear, and it was public knowledge she had more power than her position suggested.

His face impassive, Drew skated behind Marina and halted when she stopped in front of her aunt.

Mina bestowed her disapproving scowl on him. “Don’t you have better things to do, Mr. Delacorte?”

He probably did, but he couldn’t think of anything right this moment. One more withering glare from Mina, and he was thinking harder. He cast an apologetic glance in Marina’s direction and hurried down the corridor.

The locker room was deserted, and Drew sat to unlace his black figure skates. He’d broken down and purchased a pair. Doing a pairs routine in hockey skates had been a challenge. He put them away and wandered into the players’ lounge to see what he could find to eat. The team kept the refrigerator stocked with all kinds of goodies for the players, and Drew was starved. He snagged a hefty ham sandwich and a water and sat down to enjoy his meal in solitude. Rarely did he have this room to himself.

The door opened, and Ice strolled in. He glanced around the room. Seeming satisfied they had the lounge to themselves, he walked across the room, grabbed his own water and sandwich from the fridge and dropped into the chair across the table from Drew.

“How’s it going?” Ice said, surprising Drew. His teammate wasn’t one to make small talk.

“Good.”

“Caught part of your routine. If you ever want to hang up your hockey skates, you might have a career as a pairs skater.”

Drew snorted. “I doubt that.”

“You were enjoying yourself.” Ice’s words weren’t accusatory, more like surprised.

Drew shrugged and refused to be sucked into telling more than necessary. “It’s fun.”

“More fun than hockey?”

Drew narrowed his eyes, but no one could intimidate Ice. The guy was unflappable, intense, and merciless on and off the ice. He shrugged. “A different kind of fun.”

“You don’t fool me.” Ice leaned back and took a swig from his water bottle, his gaze direct and almost smug. “I’ve been where you are. I know that look.”

“What look?”

“The look of a man who’s considering hanging up his skates for good and at the prime of his career.”

Drew concentrated on his sandwich. He bit off a mouthful and chewed thoughtfully as he ran through his options. The best choice was not to answer. Play dumb. Keep his cool.

“You considered hanging up your skates?”

“Yeah. I was playing hockey for all the wrong reasons. It was my escape, my ticket out of my shitty home situation. My dad was a brutal man, physically and emotionally. Nothing ever pleased him. He was sucking the joy out of anything I did.”

“But you didn’t quit.”

Ice smiled. “No, in the end, hockey was my lifeline. I needed hockey to survive.” He scrutinized Drew for a moment. “It’s not your lifeline, is it?”

Drew shook his head and answered honestly for once. “I don’t know what hockey is to me. My brother loved it. Lived and breathed it, just like Dad. Me, not so much. I’m good at it. It comes easily for me. The money is fantastic.”

Ice frowned, irritation creased his brow, and he set down his water. He leaned forward in his chair and pursed his lips. “Is your lack of commitment fair to your teammates who are busting their asses to kick it up a notch during the playoffs while you’re on cruise control?” Ice leaned forward. “What the fuck is it you want? Not what your father or mother wants. Or what your brother may have wanted. But what does Drew Delacorte want?”

“To be happy. To do something I love. To be with someone I love.”

“Now there’s the rub. I’m going to get a little sappy here. If you tell anyone, I’ll kick your ass. To love someone and have someone who loves you changes a guy’s entire worldview, especially a cynical guy like me. Maybe that’s your real problem. You don’t have that someone. In the time I’ve been on this team, I’ve seen you do plenty of partying and one-night stands, but I haven’t seen you have a serious relationship with anyone.”

“I’m not gay, if that’s what you’re thinking. That’s not what’s wrong here.”

“Then what is it?”

Drew looked down again. “Just going through some stuff. That’s all. This game is all I’ve ever known. It’s been my life for as long as I can remember.”

Ice didn’t look convinced. He didn’t believe a word Drew was spouting. He tossed his napkin into a nearby garbage can and stood. “You’re going to need to make some tough choices in the next few months. One of them will involve that little figure skater. Make the right choices for you. No one else.”

Ice stood and walked out of the room without another word, leaving Drew to wonder what had just happened. He’d never known Ice to talk that much in one sitting, for starters, let alone get personal. Secondly, Ice had noticed something between Drew and Marina. And thirdly, Drew wasn’t fooling him at all when it came to still loving hockey. Ice knew the truth about hockey and Marina. How many others had figured him out?

He thought he was being clever and hiding his feelings for Marina and hockey. Ice had probably noticed the hungry glances between the two and the way they purposely avoided each other. Maybe he was the only one in the room who didn’t realize he wasn’t hiding a damn thing.