BLAZE: Enemies to Lovers College Hockey Romance by Eddie Cleveland (ebook reader macos .txt) 📕

“I’ve got it. I always pay on a date.”

I’ve never felt a smile start on the inside of my body before. Blaze pays for the meal, and the waitress seems happy to escape us. We get our coats on and head back out into the snow.

“Is this a date?” I feel weird even asking.

Blaze slides his arm around me. “Feels like one to me. The only difference is, I’m not trying to fill you up with holiday goose babies,” he teases me.

I laugh and the happiness stays fixed on my face when he pulls me in a bit tighter. It feels like this entire city is ours. These snow globe flurries make this all feel dreamy and magical.

“You ever wonder what happened to Harry Douche-Nozzle?”

“Who?”

“The third.” He sounds like a pompous butler. “You know, your last date.”

I haven’t thought about Damon since that night. “That’s the perfect name for him.” I laugh.

“I’m glad I crashed your date.” Blaze gets serious for two seconds, and it makes my heart flutter. “I like that you’re my dirty little secret,” he murmurs. “Come on.” He grabs my hand, and we cross the empty city street.

The public park is a winter wonderland. This must be a crazy place on snow days. It’s like a kid’s paradise. The sliding hill curves down around the skating rink. The outdoor lights glitter against the ice sculptures and castle.

“It’s pretty.” I smile, soaking it in from a respectful distance.

Blaze walks us to the edge of the ice, but I stop short. “I can’t go on there.” I shake my head.

“Relax, we’re not breaking any rules.” Blaze sighs.

“No, that’s not the problem. I have a dirty secret too.” He listens to me attentively. “I can’t skate.”

“Is there a sexual reason you can’t skate?”

“No.” I squint. “Why would there be?”

“How is that a dirty secret?”

“I’m not going on the ice, Blaze.”

“What if I hold your hands? Come on.” He’s hard to resist. Especially since I don’t want to resist him.

Blaze holds me steady on the ice as I shuffle cautiously. We take it slow, but I find my balance and pick up our speed. It’s still a far cry from real skating, but even sliding over the ice in our boots, it’s like floating. It’s freeing.

Loud voices and laughter draw my attention to the guys walking down the sidewalk. If they weren’t being so rowdy, I wouldn’t have even noticed them.

“Wait, is that… Rookie? Canuck?”

Blaze immediately drops my hands and puts a bit of space between us. That should be my priority too, but I’m too angry to think about hiding this.

“What are you guys doing down here!” I twist too much, and I paw at the air as my feet slide out from under me. The guys freeze to the spot as I slip and fall on my ass.

20

Pulling a Blaze Blaze

“Oof!” Prissy hits the ice with all the dignity of a hockey bag being tossed on a locker room floor.

“Are you alright?” I help her up from the ice, holding her tightly until I’m sure she’s got her balance.

“Watch out, that ice is hella slippery.” Rookie states the obvious, trampling through the snow toward us.

Meanwhile, Canuck rushes over and contorts himself behind an ice sculpture of a figure skater. He doesn’t need a sobriety test. The way he’s trying to imitate her leg-up, arched-back pose tells me exactly how drunk he is. He keeps wobbling all over the place until he finally throws his arms around it and smooshes his face against the carving. Fucking braincells McGee.

Rookie doesn’t try to hide at all, he just stumbles toward us with the stability of a toddler that just learned to walk. It’s obvious the two of them are drunk.

“Are you hurt?” I’m careful to keep my concerns quiet. I search Prissy’s face for signs of pain, but when she meets my eyes, it’s all the reassurance I need. She gives me a stiff nod, steps off the ice and walks back onto snowy ground, putting more space between us before Rookie reaches the edge of the ice.

I guess our date is over.

“She’s okay, right?” Rookie stands inches away from Prissy. He scrutinizes her too closely and with too much concern etched into his young face. Alcohol has a way of popping personal bubbles.

“I’m fine.” She brushes her hands down, wiping the icy residue from her ass and thighs.

Rookie won’t stop staring at her, and it’s getting uncomfortable. I step between them and throw my arm around his shoulders, guiding him back a couple feet.

“You know, I thought an Ice Queen would be better on a rink. Isn’t this your natural environment?” I tease her. Prissy might melt this ice with that cute glare. I love working her up, but it’s not me she’s looking at or paying attention to. She’s zeroed in on the guys.

“Why are you downtown? You should be at the hotel,” she scolds Rookie, and he hangs his head.

“Is that Canuck?” Prissy squints over at the ice sculpture. With his arms locked around it and his forehead pressed against the ice, Canuck looks like he might be trying to make out with it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking aboot.” Canuck gives himself away with his distinctly Canadian fucking way of saying that word. He loses his balance and falls in the snow, face first.

“A-boot.” Rookie stretches out Canuck’s pronunciation and laughs. “You’re so busted, man.”

“Fuuuuck,” Canuck moans.

“Get your ass over here,” I call out.

Canuck stands up and takes slow steps over to us. Like a kid who just got threatened with a phone call to their parents, his shoulders are slumped, and his face is full of remorse.

“What are you guys doing down here? I said you could have a small celebration, at the hotel.” Prissy looks from Canuck to Rookie, but neither of them will meet her eyes. I’m surprised that the guys look so ashamed. Prissy’s frown is hard for me to take seriously.