Page 13

Leo

The Enforcers’ practice arena is quiet before the team gets on the ice.

It’s already a familiar routine, and being back with a team gives me a sense of purpose I didn’t have before.

Traveling back to Montreal is a chore. I never thought I’d resent my job with the Wolves.

I spent my entire career there and pictured myself announcing their games on camera until they deemed me too old, then I’d switch to a front office job.

But the black-and-purple logo is growing on me.

That’s not true. I laugh to myself as I sip my coffee and eye the Enforcers’ banners.

It’s the people. Ari Dimon is creating a family here.

It’s more than a job, and I’m only a consultant.

New York has welcomed me, and now that Mason has agreed to rebuild our relationship, it’s home.

“You and the kid are making good progress,” Liska says, helmet tipped back on his head.

“He’s not a kid,” I reply with more venom than necessary.

Liska raises an eyebrow. “No, but Caleb’s still learning.” He doesn’t wait for an answer and skates onto the ice.

He’s right, yet Caleb could start in goal for half the teams in the NHL. Once Caleb figures that out, he might not stay. My chest freezes with the thought. My place is with Mason, and whether his friend stays or goes isn’t my business.

“Ready when you are.” Caleb taps his stick on my calf and skates backward, giving me a wide grin.

The rest of the world dims in comparison to his megawatt smile. Only the sun can shine brighter, but on a cloudy day, the earth revolves around Caleb.

I sigh and bring my coffee with me on the ice. It feels like armor I can wield to keep my distance from him. A physical reminder that I can’t get emotionally invested in him. He’s not for me. Full stop.

Coach asked me to lace up today to ref an informal scrimmage to make sure the guys don’t actually hit each other.

When Caleb makes a hard-to-reach save, I high-five him. “Your extension and quick reflexes made the difference. Great job.”

The rest of practice is uneventful, and I maintain my professionalism, not letting my thoughts wander inappropriately to Caleb.

“Do you mind if we work a little longer?” Caleb asks with his big, expectant green eyes.

Liska’s doing agility drills at the other end of the rink, so we won’t be alone and I agree. Nothing on this earth scares me more than being alone with Caleb Benz.

“Thanks for all your help with my anxiety. You always know what to do to bring me back from the darkness.” He leans on his stick, and I’m awestruck by his candor.

“The last few years of my career, I worked with a sports psychologist. This position carries a mental weight that the rest of the team doesn’t bear.

We all need help sometimes, and I’m thankful I’ve been helpful to you.

” Telling him I wish I could be more than a mentor and cure for his anxiety is as useless as a fairytale.

“Wow. I would never have guessed. You seemed so confident and indestructible.”

“Now you know the truth behind the mask I wore.” He’s the first and only person who knows that fact, and to cover my discomfort, I redirect his practice.

We work through drills, and his hair’s sweaty. It makes his scent alluringly sharper. It draws me closer until I’m inhaling deeper and longer.

“You’ve got great flexibility, but with some specialized exercises, you could increase it. You’ll get into position faster, and sometimes a fraction of a second makes the save.”

His smile is shy as I talk him through the positions. I readjust the angle of his hips. “Do you feel that in your inner thighs?” I ask.

Caleb makes a strangled sound, and I release the pressure, pulling him up.

“It wasn’t too much.” With his back to my front, he breathlessly turns his head to look at me.

Painstakingly, I uncurl my fingers from his hips and let him go. A soft whimper whooshes out of him, and my cock likes the sound. I’m a grown man, blaming my attraction on my dick as if I’m out of control.

Because I am in control, I put space between us. “Try that again on your own.”

“You’re no fun,” he teases but drops down. The next exercise is standard, but an untrained hockey mind might think it looks like he’s fucking the ice. My mind defies me and drinks in the sight of Caleb thrusting and the way he obeys my instructions.

To distract myself, I swing my gaze to the opposite goal to watch Liska. But he’s gone. The arena shrinks in size, and Caleb fills every crevice of the space. If I still my heart, I can hear each breath and the sounds his mouth makes as he counts to himself.

His pads are off, and his base layer clings to the curves of his muscles. They extend and tighten under the halo of lights. I track each movement, licking my lips.

“Practice clearing the puck.” I line up a few pucks from different positions and hit them one after another. Caleb alternates between hitting them back to me and an imaginary teammate.

He misses a few and smacks them down the ice toward the opposite goal. “It…could…go…all…the…way!” One of the pucks slides into the goal, and he raises his arms in victory. “Score.”

I make sounds to mimic a cheering crowd.

Caleb twirls around me fluidly as if he’s part of the ice. “Skate with me.” His eyes implore me, and I’m stunned speechless. “I’m still amped up and…” He cuts himself off, turning a pretty pink, but finds his resolve. “A few laps, please.”

I reluctantly agree, concerned about all the aches and pains my forty-seven-year-old body experiences in comparison to his.

He takes a leisurely first lap, crossing his skates over one another as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. Suddenly it’s important to set aside all my fears and be in the moment with him.

“Race you.” He cocks his head, motioning down the length of the rink.

Laughter spills out of me, since I can’t remember the last time I raced someone. Decades. “No.”

“C’mon. Let me have this. I’ll be able to brag that I beat the Leo Griffin.” He skates backward ahead of me.

“Glad your confidence is at an all-time high.” We round behind the goal, and he doesn’t need to look where he’s going. Joy radiates out of him, even though he’s sure I won’t give him what he’s asked for. This is easy. Fun. There’s no reason to say no.

He makes a noise that may or may not be a chicken sound. Instead of responding, I tear down the ice and feel him at my back. He doesn’t complain that I’m cheating or try to play dirty and trip me. Which happens all the time between hockey players messing around.

“Best out of three,” he pants as he touches the wall a second behind me.

I nod and yell, “Go.”

He explodes into motion, and it takes my brain half a second to chase him instead of staring in amazement.

Caleb’s wavy hair swishes as he rockets away. His powerful thighs and glutes propel him faster. I haven’t used my speed in years but push my muscles to remember how to work in coordination. When I get close enough to touch him, he has another burst of speed.

My lungs burn, but I’m determined to catch him. Again, when I get close, his pace increases.

He doesn’t slow but turns, stopping instantly inches from the wall.

“You let me win the first time,” I accuse, but his smile takes over his entire face, wide enough to see the back of his mouth. His cheeks are rosy and his eyes bright.

“One more to find out. Ready?” he asks as I gulp for breath. I inhale deeply a few more times before I nod. “Alright.” He draws out the word, giving me another couple of seconds. “On your mark, get set, go!”

I push off the wall using every advantage I have, only to notice he’s given me a two-stride head start.

Complaining would waste precious breath, but I growl and his deep chuckle surrounds me.

It’s low and sounds like he’s having the time of his life.

As if there’s nowhere he’d rather be than right here, right now. Racing me.

The thought of such a simple act bringing him so much joy creates a burst of energy from my heart, extending to my limbs. Hearing his laughter helps me remember how to be carefree.

We’re only a few feet from the boards, and he’s at my back.

I don’t dare slow down. The moment my hand reaches for the wall, I spin to stop short, but he’s right there, preventing my collision with the boards.

I timed it so I’d hit but not hard. Instead, I slam into his body, pinning him between me and the wall.

“This race isn’t worth breaking a bone.” His legs are wide on the outside of my thighs, and his hands flex on my hips as if to make a point.

Caleb’s green eyes are endless pools of—the word happiness pops in my mind. That’s silly. But I can’t think of a better word, and I want to drown in them.

I should say something. Our bodies are still pressed together, but I’m not inclined to give him more space.

“You shouldn’t risk injury in season. I could’ve hurt you,” I say, standing my ground between his legs.

The one-inch difference in our height isn’t usually noticeable, but this close, he has to tip his face to look me in the eye. His tongue peeks out, and I track the movement like it’s a puck I’m intent on saving—or possessing.

“I had you in control. You won’t hurt me.” He tilts his head to the side as if he’s waiting.

“You might be faster, but I’m in control.” It doesn’t feel like we’re talking about the race.

“I like it that way—you in control.” His face is closer somehow, and we’re sharing the same breath of air.

His words stir the recklessness in me—a possessive need to exercise more control. Again, I should skate back, but he’s a magnet holding me in place. A place I’m tempted to explore and desperate to stay.

“You don’t mean that.” My voice is hoarse as the words are dragged from me.

“I do,” he whispers so softly that if we weren’t only an inch apart, I wouldn’t have heard him.

Primal instinct takes over, and our lips crash together. His are firm yet soft, sweet yet sinful. He whimpers into my mouth, and I swallow it down, aching for more.