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Gerard leans in close to examine the window. His shoulder brushes against mine, sending a tingle down my spine. “That’s amazing. I never would have noticed all those details on my own.”

“I love learning about this kind of stuff. The history, the artistry, the symbolism—it’s all fascinating to me.”

We continue our impromptu tour, with me pointing out other notable features while Gerard listens intently, asks questions, and marvels at each discovery.

As we near my classroom, he turns to me with an impressed grin. “Elliot, you’re a walking encyclopedia. How do you fit all of this in that brain of yours?”

My blush deepens, and I fiddle with the hem of my hoodie. “I don’t know. I guess I’ve always been curious about the world around me.”

“That’s really cool. I wish I had that kind of passion for academics. Most of the time, I can barely remember if I zipped my fly or not.”

My eyes dart down to his crotch, only to remember he’s wearing mesh shorts, not jeans. “Trust me, I get it. But hey, at least you’ve got hockey. That’s your thing.”

He chuckles and rubs the back of his neck. “True. Skating and scoring goals—that’s about all my brain can handle most days.”

We come to a stop outside of my classroom. “This is me. Thanks again for all your help.”

Gerard’s smile grows wider, brightening his whole face. “Anytime, Elliot. I’m always happy to lend a hand. Or two, in this case.” He glances down at the stack of books still balanced in his arms. “Wait. Are all of these for today?”

“Yeah, I have a full course load.”

Gerard’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline. “That’s hardcore. When do you find thetime to eat?”

His question catches me off guard. No one has ever asked or cared about the minutiae of my daily life. I shrug, trying to play off my surprise. “I don’t. Usually, I’ll grab something from a vending machine.”

Gerard frowns, clearly not satisfied with my answer. “That’s not a proper meal, Elliot. You need actual food to fuel that big brain of yours.”

He carefully extracts the book I need for class, and I choose not to ask how he knows—some things are better left unsaid. I take it from him, and our fingers touch again. But this time, that static electricity zigzags its way right to my heart.

“Here,” Gerard says softly. “I’ll hold onto the rest of these and come back in an hour to walk you to your next class. This way, you don’t have to lug them around all day.”

I stare at him in disbelief. “Gerard, I can’t ask you to be late for more classes.”

“I only have the one today. I’ll be back later.” Then he adds, “With a hearty meal made just for you.”

He flashes me a wink, and this time, I swoon. Hard.

ICE QUEEN BLOG POST #4

Gerard Gunnarson’s Hands: A Study in Masculinity

Hey there, puck bunnies! Ice Queen here, your go-to gal for the coolest takes on all things Barracudas.

Today, we are diving deep into a topic that’s on everyone’s minds—or has it only been on mine?—Gerard Gunnarson’s hands! Let’s break it down, shall we?

1. Talk to the Hand

Regarding Gerard’s hands, one thing is clear—they’re big.We’re talking hands that could put King Kong’s to shame. They dwarf anything they hold and make even the largest objects appear tiny in comparison.

But it’s not only the size of Gerard’s hands that’s impressive; it’s his fingers, too. Each one is incredibly long and as thick as, dare I say, a penis?

2. Glove Love

We also need to talk aboutwhenGerard steps onto the ice, okay? Because that’s when you get to see them in action.

Whenever he slips on those thick, padded hockey gloves, his hands transform from simply massive to downright monstrous appendages. The gloves add bulk and heft, and when he grips that hockey stick, it’s like watching a bear clutch a twig.

But here’s the thing: even with all that added bulk, Gerard’s hands draw the eye, commanding attention and sparking awe in all who witness them. Everything else fades away, and all you can see are those massive gloves moving with a grace and dexterity that is impossible to describe.Believe me, I spent hours trying to!