Neve paused cinching herbreezers long enough to rub her hands together with glee. Her blood fizzed with excitement, possibly fueled by the coffee she’d been consuming after a mostly sleepless night. Her nerves were jumpy, her body supercharged. She couldn’t wait to blow off some steam.
The rules in their rec league dictated no checking, but Neve wouldn’t follow that rule today. Anger over being confronted by Reece’s ex-whatever continued on a slow boil inside her, and she was looking forward to venting that frustration. Maybe she was overreacting, but she didn’t care. She’d been dreaming of gunning for one particular player and leaving him sprawled out on the ice. One good hit, and the difference in their sizes wouldn’t matter.
“Ready?” said player called from the kitchen’s back door.
Oh, you bet I am!
“Coming.” Neve finished her lacing and hopped to her booted feet. Pearl whined and gave her a look that said, “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Oh, believe me, I do,” she hissed at the dog. “Don’t worry. He’s too big a lunk to really get hurt, but he’ll probably get a nice bruise out of it. And I’ll feelsomuch better. Let’s not forget this isallabout me.” She snickered at her own evil joke.
Reece cocked an eyebrow as Neve sailed past him. “What did you say?”
“Just talking to the dog.”
They arrived at the rink five minutes later. The ridiculous amount of gear they had to haul made walking there from Neve’s house completely impractical, though the exercise might have bled off some of her anger. Reece had started his truck minutes before, so the short ride wasa warm one. Why was he so damn thoughtful all the time? It kind of pissed her off, adding fuel to her fire.
The game began with the usual warm-ups while both sides chirped each other. Neve reserved her trash-talking for her “husband,” but Reece seemed oblivious that he was in her crosshairs.Good. He wouldn’t suspect a thing, and she needed that element of surprise if she was going to take him down.
Halfway through the second period, the Margaritas were up by one goal. They’d been holding their own against the Boys all game long, and the momentum was solidly on their side. Reece was heading up ice with the puck, and Neve saw her chance. She raced at him, slid in front of him, and stole the puck off his stick. Fired it at the net. It squirted wide.
Damn it!
Charlie corralled it and saucered it to Micky, who was blocked by Amy. Charlie dished it off to Reece, whose head was down.Now!Neve charged her target, leaving the ice to deliver the hit, packing every ounce of frustration behind it. Instead of leveling him, though, she bounced off.
Two things happened in a split second: She struck her head on the metal goal post and flew forward, landing on her face.
Jolting pain spiderwebbed from her chin to her cheekbones.
She saw stars as she slumped to the ice, vaguely registering Joy’s shriek. “What did you do to her?”
Reece felt more thansaw Neve go flying. As he was spinning to see what happened, Joy cried from the sidelines, “What did you do to her?”
“He didn’t do a damn thing,” he heard Charlie yell back from where he stood on the ice. “She took a run at him, fell down, and hit her chin.”
As soon as Reece had Neve in his sights, his already-elevated pulse skyrocketed with a spike of fear. He dropped his stick and slid on his knees toward her crumpled form. One of her teammates was bent over her, and he barked at the woman, “Don’t touch her!”
She let out a little cry of surprise and glided backward, pulling other Margaritas with her.
“Need to be careful with head injuries,” he muttered after her in a half-assed apology.
Reece’s gloves and helmet were off in an instant, and Neve rolled to her back, blood bathing her chin and throat. He held the sides of her head, careful not to jostle it. “Neve!”
Her eyes rolled up in their sockets.
He leaned over and listened. Her breathing was ragged, coming in truncated little pants, and a quiet sort of keening escaped her mouth—like a balloon being squeezed. He rose up on his knees. The color had drained from her face, and he quelled his growing panic. That pesky inner voice told him he was too close, that he was the wrong guy to be tending to her. But he wasn’t about to relinquish her care to anyone else.
“Neve! Can you hear me?”
When she didn’t respond, he looked up at the closest bystander: Charlie. His brother crouched down on her other side, and Reece ordered him to keep her head level while he yanked off his jersey, balled it up, and slid it under her head, placing a barrier between her and the ice. Both teams clustered around, and murmurs of “What happened?” and “Is she okay?” passed between them. Reece shut them out, his focus tunneling down to only Neve. Her limbs were akimbo, and he carefully straightened them.
Heart jolting in his chest, adrenaline surging through his veins, he leaned his ear down to her slack mouth. “Neve. Sweetheart, talk to me. Tell me you’re all right.”
She let out a little groan, and when he looked into her eyes again, they were open. Glassy slits, but they seemed to follow him. His heart soared, and he choked out a laugh.
“Hey, welcome back, toughie.”
“My face,” she moaned and tried to raise her head, but he held it in place.
