Page 10 of Holiday Crush

“It’s not like I haven’t seen a guy lube up and—okay, never mind. Just…I’ll look away.”

I chuckled, amused in spite of the low-grade tinge of pain radiating from my skin. “Don’t bother. It’s cool. I mean…it’s actually hot, but it’s cooling down.”

The corner of Ivan’s lips curled in a tentative smile. Yeah, he was very cute. “It’s probably a good sign that you’re able to joke about it. Not to diminish the severity of your injury, but it could have been worse. I almost gagged at the pic online of a guy whose penis blistered and—”

“Whoa!” I scowled, shaking my head in mock dismay. “Too soon, latte man. Too soon.”

“Got it.” Ivan snickered and made a zipped-lips motion.

“I didn’t know Rise and Grind delivered. That’s a sweet perk.”

“We don’t, usually. I needed a break and itseemedlike an easy errand,” he replied, giving me a thorough once-over, his eyes lingering on my pecs for a beat.

Or maybe that was my imagination. I was a little off my game, and I had been for a few weeks now. And while there was no denying that Ivan was a sexy dude, there had to be a rule somewhere about flirting with guys in bathrooms at your new place of employment.

“It’s all good. I’m sorry if I overreacted. Like I said, this was my first day here, and I probably panicked. That’s on me.” I swiped my hand through my hair and shrugged.

Ivan pursed his lips and motioned to the mirror. “You must have Vaseline on your fingers still. You look well and truly singed now.”

Sure enough, my hair was literally standing on end. “Oh. Wow.”

And maybe it was stress relief after a harrowing minor medical issue, but once I started laughing, I couldn’t stop. Ivan joined in, and whatever tension remained between us vanished, along with any lingering awkwardness. Kind of a miracle under the circumstances. But I was grateful. I had enough tension in my life.

I didn’t know Ivan all that well, but I remembered liking him. He’d been quiet back then and kind of sweet.

He sobered first and reached up to flatten the spikiest clump of hair. “Better. So youworkhere now?”

I draped my ruined shirt over my arm. “Yeah, I’m one of the new coaches, at least through the holidays. Maybe not quite that long if I can get a new agent and…stuff.”

“And stuff,” Ivan repeated. “I guess that means you don’t play for the Charleston Sea Snappers anymore.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Did you retire from hockey?”

“I hope not, but it’s complicated and…stuff.”

“Got it.” He chuckled at my over-the-top austere expression. “Well, good luck to you and seriously…next latte is on me.”

“That’s not necessary, but thanks.”

Ivan smiled. “I insist.”

And then he was gone.

I snapped the lid shut on the first-aid kit, startling when the bathroom door opened again and Vinnie Kiminski bounded in.

“Hey, you okay in here? Your dick didn’t really get fried, did it?” Vinnie asked, his lips twisting in horror at the very idea.

“I don’t think it’s that gory, but I haven’t had a chance to examine the damage yet.”

“Maybe it’ll scab over or something?” he offered unhelpfully.

“Yeah, thanks. That sounds fucking awful, and now I’m officially done talking about my junk.”

“Gotcha.” He barked a laugh and leaned against the white-tiled wall with his arms crossed, looking like someone ready to settle in for a chat. “Listen, I want to talk to you about a couple of things.”

I eyed him warily. Vinnie was a big man—at least six five, two-hundred and fifty pounds with broad shoulders, thick muscles, and dark hair that needed a trim. He was the kind of guy who commanded attention and took up space. Great attributes on the ice, but not exactly ideal in the confines of a public restroom.