Page 94 of Puck Yes
I’m still in my uniform shorts and pads. My neck is covered in sweat. My hair is a mess. And my heart is beating too fast.
“We won,” Ivy says brightly. “It was the polar bear. That got everyone going, right?”
Oh, shit.
I know this Ivy.
This is Ivy’s wall. Like in the SUV in Vegas after the wedding when she was too cheery, too upbeat, too happy. She does this when she’s hiding something. Afraid of something. And I’m pretty sure I know what she’s afraid of now.
Me.
Or more specifically, how frosty I’ve been the last few days.
My bad behavior wallops me. I shut down. I ignored. I avoided. I was as cold as my ex-girlfriend had accused.
I don’t feel cold at all for this woman before me. I feel so much for Ivy it terrifies me. But I face down grown men on the ice who want to body check me, so I can do this. I cup Ivy’s cheeks and meet her deep blue eyes, full of the brightness that masks her hurt. “I’m sorry,” I say, full of contrition. I hope she hears all of it. “I’m so sorry.”
Her eyes swing briefly to Briar. “I just jammed my wrist, that’s all,” she says, like I’d be silly to think otherwise. “Kelsey was here, but she had to get back to the team. She iced it and gave me the good stuff. Ibuprofen. And Briar found the grape juice. If I’m a good girl, Kelsey said she’d give me goldfish crackers when she checks back in a few minutes. But now, Briar’s in charge of me. What do you think, B? Do I deserve crackers too?”
The perky yoga instructor winks at Ivy. “You can have crackers, but only if you send me that link.”
Ivy scoffs playfully. “Consider it done.”
“What link?” I ask, lost again in their girl talk.
“She needs a dress for a thing,” Ivy says.
“I hate shopping,” Briar adds with a shudder.
“And I don’t,” Ivy says. “It works out perfectly. Briar gave me the contraband grape juice, and I’m going to get her a dress for an event.”
Fuck.
She doesn’t believe me. She doesn’t trust me. I run my thumb along her jawline. “Let me take you home,” I whisper.
Shaking her head, she meets my gaze, her eyes sharp and shrewd. “I’m fine.” She’s not being too nice now. She’s drawing a line in the sand.
She slides carefully off the table, turning in a slow circle.
My jaw falls. “You should be lying down. Resting. Taking it easy,” I sputter.
She waggles her fingers and shows off the ACE bandage on her wrist. “They did an X-ray and nothing’s broken. I just need to rest it tonight. Kelsey took care of me, and now I’m literally hanging out with Briar,” she says, laying out the facts, crisp and cool. “And I can skate at the game in two days. It was just a fall, and the bear costume helped protect me.”
I growl at her. There are lines in the sand and there is also an injured woman I need to take care of. “We’re going home.Now.”
“I need to grab…my water bottle. Yes, that’s it,” Briar stammers, then exits the room swiftly.
It’s just us.
My wife glares at me. “You can’t just barge in here and tell me to go home when you’ve ignored me for three days. That’s not how this works.”
I reel, shocked at the bite in her words. The truth in them.
“And you can’t just come in here and demand to see your wife,” she adds.
I drag a hand down my face. I really fucked up.
“What can I do then?” I ask, feeling helpless but refusing to go.