Page 176 of The Overtime Kiss
I spin around as Sabrina delivers the send-off message, like she’s heave-ho-ing this pair of assholes and their moron henchmen off the plank.
And maybe I wasn’t making it up earlier about the teamescorts, since Rowan, and Ford, and Miles and Max, and Wesley and Asher are all right behind me, standing guard, just in case.
“We’ll see them out,” Miles says in that no-nonsense captain voice of his.
Like a hockey mafia, my teammates—who are pretty much family one way or another—escort them to the exit, while Leighton disappears down the hall, giving us space.
I’m alone with Sabrina in the tunnel before the game. Her lips are parted. Her eyes are shining. She’s…speechless, and I fucking love it.
“Did you hear everything?” I ask, my heart beating so fast.
“Every word,” she says, like she’s drunk on them.
Good. I think I am too. “I meant it all,” I say, including the three words I should have said a while ago, but no time like the present.
But the moment shatters before it starts when Everly races down the hall, beelining for me, her shoes clicking loudly. “Did you just kick out our VIPs?”
I can seemy player just caused a PR disasterin her big brown eyes.
I shrug. “I did, but one of them was a cheating asshole and the other was king of the assholes. So I don’t feel bad.”
“He was standing up for me,” Sabrina says, like she’s thrilled to back me up. Like we’re a team. “They were honestly pretty awful, and he did the right thing by getting rid of them.”
She sounds enchanted, and that’s what I was going for.
Everly winces, but then takes a deliberate long breath, as if calming herself. “It’ll be fine. I’ll spin it. I’ll say there was some history. I’ll explain that heated words were said, but no one was hurt. That sometimes emotions run high before games. I’ll handle it,” she says, cool and calm, taking over the potential PR mess.
“Thank you,” I say, genuinely grateful because I didn’t make it easy for her. “Because I need to handle something else?—”
“Time for warmups, boys. Let’s hit the ice.”
I groan at the sound of Coach’s voice and the herd of hockey players thundering behind me. My brother waggles my stick and helmet my way, a look in his eyes that saystime to hit the ice now.
I grab my gear from him, but turn back to Sabrina, still standing, pressed against the wall in the tunnel. Eyes still sparking with…possibility.
The same possibility I feel down to my marrow.
I’d planned to wait till later, but sometimes you have to shoot your shot when it comes your way.
“I love you, Sabrina Snow,” I say, then I hit the ice.
49
A NAIL-BITER
Sabrina
When the second period ends, I’m ready. But in a whole new way. I’ve never taken the ice with someone backing me up like that.
Someone throwing down for me so clearly, so deliberately.
And so deliciously.
It’s a brand-new feeling, this buzzing in my bones, this bubbling through my bloodstream.
When the team’s emcee heads onto the rink with her mic, I take a deep breath from my spot in the darkened tunnel. “We’re thrilled to have former women’s figure-skating national champion and beloved local skating coach Sabrina Snow join us during our intermission.”
My heart climbs up my throat at the wordbeloved. Tears threaten to fill my eyes, but I swallow them down, smiling from the center of my soul as I take the ice.
