Page 10 of Icing the Cougar (Hockey USA Collection #7)

Trinity

"Wear this for me tonight at my game," are the first words out of Jasper’s mouth as he walks into my dance studio a few days after our epic steak house date.

I take the jersey in my hand. It’s got his scent on it.

He must know this is how you mark your territory even more so than the passion marks he leaves on my body.

You leave your number, your sweat, your smell.

I can feel his breath on my neck, where the rest of him has been.

He’s got a grip on more than just my arms. It's soft, but it hits hard. I want to say yes. I want to say no. Yet, I want to want it less because he’s so much younger than me.

"I’m going to look like a groupie," I say, my voice almost a whisper.

"Looks good on you," he replies, stepping even closer, making the room feel like it’s shrinking around us.

I breathe in the sharp pine and musk of his cologne, and my pulse starts racing, half panic, half thrill.

Why am I this worked up about a hockey game?

The damn jersey is all soft and bright in my arms, and I swear it’s beating like a second heart.

My rational side is listing all the reasons to slow down, but the other side—the one that’s flushed and flustered and hopelessly turned on—knows exactly what it wants.

He doesn’t even say please.

"I want everyone to know you're there for me," he admits. It’s cocky and selfish and exactly why I’m doomed.

He turns, like he's going to leave me right here in this frenzy, but I catch his arm. "Jasper," I say. "You can’t just—"

"Can’t just what?" He’s got that infuriating grin, the one that makes me want to grab him and shove him away and then pull him back even closer.

"Expect me to sit alone at your game," I say. My voice is more breathless than I’d like it to be.

"So, don’t," he says. Like it’s that simple. Like everything with him isn’t an unpredictable, chaotic mess.

His fingers brush against mine, and I feel the electricity in the pit of my stomach. God, what am I getting myself into? Before I can finish a single rational thought, I hear myself say yes.

Jasper gives me a look that says he thinks he’s won, but I know this game is just getting started.

"I knew you wouldn’t deny me." He flashes that grin that could make any sane woman lose her mind.

Then he kisses me, hard and quick, his lips capturing more than my breath.

It’s a preview and a promise and a dare, all in one.

By the time I open my eyes, he’s already at the door, looking back at me with a confidence that sets every nerve ending on fire.

He’s leaving me standing here, the jersey limp in my hands, every part of me tangled up and pulsing.

“What’s going on, babe?” Nova asks as she walks into my studio room.

"What am I doing?" I say. Nova rolls her eyes, the kind of look that only comes from a decade of friendship.

"Trinity," she says, her voice an exasperated hug, "the only thing you're doing is living." Her words hang there, competing with the noise and my doubt.

"So, will you come with me?" I ask. "Moral support?"

Nova gives me a sly grin. "Can't leave you all alone, especially when there will be hot as fuck hockey boys to ogle over."

"I'm counting on you," I tell her.

"Can't wait to see this Jazz in action," Nova says. "I bet he’s worth the price of admission."

"He's definitely something," I say, feeling my cheeks heat up at just the thought of him and his relentless pursuit.

"So, do I get a jersey too?" Nova asks, her eyes glinting with mischief.

"Probably not," I say, rolling my eyes but unable to hide my smile. "However, I do need you there. I'm liable to freak out and bail."

"Not a chance," Nova says. "I’ll keep you in your seat, even if I have to glue you there."

I laugh, but it’s a nervous sound that doesn't quite match Nova's confidence.

"Maybe you're right," I say, even though I have no idea what I mean by that. Although Nova seems to understand anyway.

"You don't have to figure it all out," she says, shrugging. "Just enjoy it. It’s going to be fun. I promise."

***

I'm here in the jersey. Nova is by my side. Thank God because this is my first ever hockey game, and I’m lost as to what to do.

I don’t even have time to freak out because the stadium goes dark, and my pulse is suddenly in my throat.

The place shakes like it's about to fall apart, and I think I am too. Nova is shouting something I can’t hear.

I'm glad Jasper didn't sign me up to do this alone and provided an extra ticket for her.

We find our seats with pretzels in hand and enough canned wine to survive.

The lights flash, and my name is up there for everyone to see, in soft, white fabric. Or at least it feels that way. Nova is grinning at me like I'm the main attraction, not the guys skating onto the ice.

"This is insane!" she yells over the music. "I love this!"

"The game hasn't even started," I tell her, but I'm catching her excitement anyway. It’s contagious, almost like being with him.

"I mean this whole thing!" She waves a hand at the rink and crowd.

The first puck drops, and we grab our drinks. Then I try to slow down my drinking as we’re rapidly two minutes in and I can hardly breathe. Nova's already on her second wine, and she makes a face like I should be chugging mine if I'm going to keep up.

"There he is," Nova shouts, pointing at Jasper.

He looks impossibly fast, even among the blur of bodies on the ice. Nova has the app on her phone pulled up with the Chicago Blades roster checking off numbers and stats. "He's insane out there. How do you keep up?"

"I'm not sure I can," I say, but my eyes are glued to him. He's reckless and determined and a thousand other things that make me wonder if I can really handle it. The way he's moving, it's almost like he's dancing. I'm hypnotized by the rhythm of it all.

His focus is electric. He's there one second and gone the next, making plays and throwing himself into the fray with no regard for what it might do to him.

Watching from so close, I can see every muscle flex under his jersey.

The sight sends a thrill through me, followed by a ripple of anxiety.

I don't know how this is supposed to end.

Nova nudges me again. "This is the part where you tell me I'm right."

I laugh and take another swig. The can is cold in my hand, and the taste lingers. "So far," I admit.

A guy sitting a few rows back leans over. "You here for Jazz?" he asks. His words blend with the crowd noise and almost disappear.

Nova's quicker than me. "Yep, she is," she confirms. The guy just winks like he knows everything we’ve done together, even though I know that’s impossible.

It's easy to forget how public this is when I'm focused on Jasper. Easy to lose myself in the chaos and let it swallow my nerves. Maybe this is what he wants, to see me struggle with his world and wonder what I’ve gotten myself into.

"You like it rough, Trin?" Nova says as Jasper slams an opponent into the boards right in front of us. The thud is so loud it echoes inside my chest.

I take a moment too long to answer, distracted by the scene and by Nova's question. "What?"

"This hockey thing," she says, but her look tells me she means more.

"I'm here, aren't I?" I say, and it's as much a question as a statement. I keep watching as the action swirls around Jasper, thinking I might understand him better when I see him like this. Unrestrained and in control all at once.

I don’t realize I’ve been holding my breath until Nova taps my shoulder and brings me back to where I am, where we are. "God, you’ve got it bad," she says with a gleam in her eye.

I don’t deny it. I don’t think I can.

Jasper's intensity is something else entirely. It grips me in a way that's both exhilarating and terrifying.

"Do you think he’s always this brutal?" I ask Nova. She shrugs, sipping her wine.

The game moves fast, too fast for me to keep up with who has the puck, but I know where Jasper is. Always.

"In more ways than one, I bet," Nova says, laughing at the look I give her.

"I'm serious," I say. "Is it supposed to be this... physical?"

Nova leans back, crossing her arms and watching Jasper like she's sizing him up for me. "It’s hockey. Duh. You didn’t expect him to be gentle, did you?"

I almost say no. Instead, I say, "I didn’t expect to be this worried."

"Don't be. It's hot," she says, finishing off another canned wine. "You want wine? Maybe popcorn?"

Before I can answer, Jasper's in the thick of it again. He dodges and cuts and collides with another player, and I feel the impact in my bones. It's not pretty, but it's effective.

He shoves the guy, hard enough to send him sprawling, and I wonder if he’s going to stop. If he can stop. He plays like this is all there is. Like there's nothing else he knows how to do, or wants to do.

Nova stands up and cheers with the rest of the crowd. She fits right in, but all I can think about is how I don't.

"Sit down, come on!" I tug her sleeve as whistles blow, and the ref calls a penalty on Jasper.

"Oh, damn," Nova says, finally dropping back into her seat. "Two minutes, huh?"

"For what?" I ask. Jasper is skating to the penalty box, and even from here I can see the fury in his eyes.

"Interference," Nova answers. "Or maybe roughing. Whatever. It's not a big deal." She’s calm, too calm, while I’m a knot of tension, wound tight by everything I've seen and not knowing what’s to come.

I should take it as a sign that I can't keep up. That this isn't where I belong.

Instead, I watch him in the box, counting down the seconds. He’s trapped.

The other team scores, and it barely registers because I’m fixated on Jasper, watching his anger build.

Nova looks at me, then at him. "Wow, he's pissed," she says. "Think you're gonna need to console him later?"

"Or vice versa," I counter.

"Well, good thing you're up for it," Nova says. "You are, right?"

Her question lingers.

Jasper's back on the ice, but my mind is still in that box with him, wondering what this really means.

A minute later, the scuffle breaks out again. This time it's ugly, not just part of the game. I see it all happen, right in front of me, and I’m not sure I can handle it.

Jasper checks the same player into the boards, and they both go down, tangled and thrashing. It’s brutal. The crowd roars, and I lose sight of him in the scrum of jerseys and bodies.

I turn to Nova, but she’s already on her feet again, caught up in the energy that has me feeling like I’m about to unravel.

The whistle blows and the refs break it up.

Jasper is on his feet, glaring, furious, a raw nerve exposed for everyone to see.

For me to see, and I'm not sure what to make of it.

"He's crazy," Nova says, breathless. I can’t tell if she means it as a compliment or a warning.

"They're putting him back in the box," I say. It’s all happening so fast, but the look on his face when he catches my eye happens in slow motion. He’s daring me to flinch, and I don't. Not yet.

"Damn," Nova says again, settling into her seat. "You're in for it now."

Jasper slams the door shut and throws himself onto the bench. I wonder if he even notices the other guy sitting across from him, until they start yelling loud enough for me to hear.

"You think you can get away with that shit here?" the guy shouts, his words echoing and jumbled.

Jasper’s voice cuts through. "You're gonna cry about it?"

"It's not fucking Canada, man," the guy says, and I catch something in his tone. Anger, but more than that. Like there's a story here I'm missing, one I should know if I'm going to keep this up with him.

"Fucking A right it’s not," Jasper says, grinning like he's got the last word.

The refs are watching but not close enough to catch all of it. I wonder how much of this is a game to him, how much is for real. How much of it I’m willing to put up with.

Nova hands me another drink. She doesn’t ask if I heard them. She doesn't have to.

The time ticks down, slower than before, and I'm too caught up in everything to notice the score or the clock or anything else. The guy is back on the ice, and Jasper stays on the bench a moment longer, staring across the ice.

"Go Blades!" Nova shouts when Jasper’s finally free again, skating with all the energy he bottled up in the box.

"Yeah," I say, trying to go along with this newfound energy from Jasper. "Go Blades."

It’s a blowout in the end. I think it was 6 to 3, but the numbers didn’t really sink in.

The buzzer sounds, and the arena is so loud it’s impossible to think. Fans pour out, and I’m lost in the rush, not sure which way is up. Not sure if I’m okay with that or if I'm about to get swept away.

"Jasper’s coming out later, right?" Nova says as we hang back from the crowd, letting them file past.

"Maybe," I say. I don't know if I can face him after this. After what I've seen, after what I think it means.

We stand near the exit, watching the frenzy, watching me unravel, and Nova’s still got that same look she gave me at the start of the night. Like she thinks I'm the crazy one for getting so worked up over this.

The other fans filter out, leaving us alone in the cavernous space. The rink is empty, and I can't shake the chill.

"Trin?" Nova asks. She sounds concerned for once, and I almost laugh at how serious it’s gotten, at how seriously I'm taking this.

"I don't know," I say. "I don't know what I'm doing."